USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, 1900-1901 > Part 54
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"Any security, sir?"
"I do not know a soul in the city," re -. plied the governor. "A pickpocket robbed me of $168, all the money I had, and here I am in a strange city without even enough money to get my shoes shined Now, if you will give me $200 it will take me home, and I will remit the mo- ment I reach Portland. I must have the money."
"This is indeed a singular case," re- plied the banker, gazing steadily into the governor's face. "However, you do not look like a man who would tell a false- hood for $200, and I will trust you for that amount. Here it is."
Governor Woods thanked his bene- factor and remitted the amount the mo- ment he reached home, and received in answer a very complimentary letter from the bank president. The governor told this story on himself several months be- fore his deatlı.
CROSSING THE PLAINS.
I continued in the business previously mentioned until October, 1861. when C. Hiner Miller, now known as Joaquin Miller, met me at Walla Walla with a letter of introduction to me from his uncle, Col. W. W. Chapman. Miller wanted to join me in the express busi- ness. He had one little pony, and $5 in cash, but he could ride well and was a hustler. I had at that time eighteen head of good saddle horses, so I gave him an interest in the business. Soon after that the Salmon river mines were dis- covered, and I put Miller on the route from Lewiston to Florence City, in the - Salmon river mines, while I rode between Walla Walla, Lewiston and the Oro Fino.
The "diggings" at Florence proved to be very rich. There was a great rush to them, and by December there were many hundreds of men in there at work, and gold dust was plentiful. About the Ioth of December I got. Miller to change off with me one trip. and I went to Florence, while he went to Walla Walla. I had fifty of the Sacramento Unions with me, and expected to get a good price for them. When I arrived at Slate creek at the foot of the Salmon river mountains, I found quite a camp of miners and packers. The notorious Mat Bledso had just shot and killed a packer named Harmon, better known as Pike. Bledso was taken to Walla Walla, where he had a preliminary examination before a justice and was discharged. He after- wards killed two other men. was in the penitentiary for several years, was par- doned out and was finally killed in Ari- zona over a game of cards.
Arriving at Florence I sold my news- papers for $2.50 each as fast as I could hand them out. I kept my horse under a shed two nights and one day. and fed him thirty pounds of oats, and when ready to leave. my bill was only $30-ȘI a pound for oats.
I was away from Walla Walla that trip sixteen days and cleared up $400. Be- tween Lewiston and Walla Walla I met hundreds of men on their way to Flor- ence, a great many of them with hand sleds loaded with grub and picks and blankets. Many men were frozen to death that winter. Bewildered in a snow storm, they would lose the trail, and then flounder about in the blinding snow and die.
I found a dead man in March between Pataha and the Snake river that had per- ished in the snow storm. He had a gold watch and $40 in money on his person. Letters and papers on him showed that his name was W. J. Boardman, from Sacramento, Cal. I sent his watch and money to his sister there. The remains of several miners were found near Camas prairie, where they had lost the trail and perished in the snow.
At Walla Walla that winter there was very severe and much suffering, and many cattle were frozen to death. On Dry creek the cattle were piled up in the willows, where they had crowded to get water, by the hundreds.
In Walla Walla, wood was so scarce that the French settlers hauled their rails in from their ranches and sold them for $30 a load and cut new rails in the spring to replace the old ones.
Times were so hard that many men lived on the pickings from the swill bar- rels of the hotels. Flour sold for $50 per 100 pounds; apples sold for $I apiece ; board and lodging was from $15 to $20 a week. The business houses were well represented by Dusenbury Bros., Cy and Dick Jacobs. Baldwin & Whitman, Bover & Baker. Kyger & Reese, Kohlauff & Guischard, Kady & Howard, Schwabacker Bros. Co., Neil and Jas. McAulliff. Saloons were numer- ous. The largest was kept by Ball. and one by Mostinchy, where gambling ta- bles were kept going day and night.
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Sporting men were numerous, and many thousands of dollars changed hands that winter. Early in the winter of '61-2. J. B. Robins opened a theater, his daugh- ter Sue being the star attraction. One night the theater was packed full of cit- izens and soldiers when a fight started, and revolvers cracked lively for awhile. Two soldiers were killed and two or three citizens were wounded. One of the citizens wounded was Dick Phillips, of Amity, Or.
Miller and I were together until the spring of 1862, when he decided to quit business to go to Port Orford, Or., and be married. He was to marry a lady known as Minnie Myrtle. but whose cor- rect name was Minnie Dver. So I paid him $600 over and above his profits, and presented him with a fine horse, saddled and bridled. He went to Portland and from there to Port Orford, where he was married.
I wish to say here, in justice to myself, that in all Joaquin Miller's writings he has never mentioned my name in con- nection with the express business. but has always taken the credit to himself of doing it all. In his writings he calls Florence, Idaho, Milleysbury, but no one of the old cradle-rockers of that day will recognize the place by that name, and all of the old-timers at Walla Walla and Lewiston know who was the pioneer ex- pressman in that country.
The company was generally known as Mossman's Express, although for a short time it was actually Mossman & Miller's Express. When Miller left. I took in as partners, J. C. Franklin, Thos. Paulson, Put Smith and one John McBride. We did a good business. For some time Franklin stayed in Portland. bought gold lust and spent money freely on himself and wife. McBride rode as messenger between Florence and Lewiston. One night he gambled off $2000 of the com- pany's money and then skipped to Mon- tana. One disaster after another over- took me, and in June, 1863, two years after my first trip into Oro Fino, I was forced to close ont to Wells. Fargo & Co. Afterwards I made a few trips to Granite Creek, Elk City and Auburn, on
Powder river : but in the spring of 1863 I quit the express business only about $1000 ahead for my two years' work. In June, 1863, Geo. E. Cole ran for del- egate to congress, and as it required a long time to secure the returns from outside counties, he employed me to go to Fort Colville, in Stevens county, and bring in the official returns. He paid me $5 a day and expenses, and furnished me with a good horse. I carried the mail bag also to Fort Colville, as the regular mail was only carried once a month. As houses along my route were few and far between, I "toted" a pair of blankets with me. It was 250 miles to Colville. and my time to make the trip was lim- ited to six days. I left Walla Walla at I o'clock in the afternoon, went to Mc- Whik's ferry on Snake river and stayed over night, leaving there early the next morning with a cold lunch in my pocket, and riding out to Cow creek valley, where I stopped to bait my horse and eat a bite. As my horse was very warm, I pulled the saddle off. and he lay down to roll on the grass, as horses always do. While rolling over he was bitten by a big rattlesnake, and as I had no med- icine with me I saddled up as quickly as possible and started ahead to find help. I knew a man by the name of Hosteter had left Snake river a half day ahead of me with a wagon. I kept on going until late at night without seeing a soul. By that time my poor horse was swollen up so badly that he could travel no farther, and I had to leave him by the roadside to die. I took off my sad- dle and blankets and left them by the roadside, too. With my mail bag over my shoulder I started on to overtake the wagon aliead of me. I was suffering badly from thirst, and, though traveling in sight of Medical lake, could not drink its bitter waters. About II o'clock at night, when completely exhausted, I overtook the man camped at some springs. He gave me some water, but only a little at a time ; then he prepared something to eat, which he dealt out to me very sparingly at first. The next morning lie let me have one of his horses and I went back where I had left mine.
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CROSSING THE PLAINS.
Finding the latter dead, I secured my saddle and blankets and returned to my friend, and went forward with him to the ferry on the Spokane river, where I hired a horse and proceeded to Col- ville, secured the election returns and started back. When I had returned as far as Walker's prairie I saw a large corral full of horses and eight or ten men standing around among them. Among the band I recognized two horses that had been stolen from me at Walla Walla two months previous. I rode up to the corral and spoke to the men pleasantly. and told them that I saw "two of mv horses among their stock which had 'strayed' away from Walla Walla." They replied, with an oath, that they "owned all of the horses," but after a long palaver they concluded to give me a pony worth about $25. As my horses had cost me SIoo each, I did not want to accept any such a proposition, but an argument supported by only one gun against a dozen could not be expected to avail very much, and fearing that they would change their minds and not give me any- thing, I accepted the offer with a pro- fusion of thanks.
I left the horse I had hired at the ferry and by traveling day and night arrived back on time with the election returns. and the Hon. Geo. E. Cole was elected delegate to congress from Washington territory. After resting a few days at my home, one mile from Walla Walla. John F. Abbott. the poneer stage pro- prietor of Walla Walla, employed me to drive one of his stages to Boise City. Idaho, until we should meet .one of his other stages coming down. Abbott had agreed to take sixteen gamblers and "toughs" to Boise City, and had to send two stages, eight men and their baggage for each stage. They paid him $50 each, and they were to board themselves, he taking their provisions along We left Walla Walla after dinner and drove to the Umatilla crossing, near where the town of Pendleton is now located. We camped there, and it would have made a wooden Indian smile to see those gamblers try to cook their first meal. Instead of forming into a mess and cook-
ing at two fires, each man had a fire of his own, and the cuss words they used were fearful. Myself and the other driver had provided ourselves with a lunch, and were eating it quietly when one big tough ordered us to help cook. We told him we were hired as stage drivers, not as cooks. He then tried to run a bluff, but it would not work. Next morning we drove to Meacham's Sta- tion, where I was well acquainted, get- ting there at noon, and as the fellows had some money, we stayed there all night. The next day we proceeded as far as La Grande, and here the toughs hired a woman to cook supper and breakfast. After eating the latter we hitched up and drove on to the Powder river, where we stopped for lunch and to feed our horses. It happened that there was a flock of ducks on the river, and our passengers were shooting at them, but without effect. I carried an old Colt's pistol along that had not been fired in six months, but I walked out among them and said: "Look here, boys, I will show you how to kill a duck." I aimed with a sort of elegance, and fired, cutting a duck's head. I was more surprised than they were when I saw the execution I had made. In fact. I was not sure I aimed at the duck I killed. but I never let on but what such shooting was common. It was one shot in a thousand, and after that those fel- lows were very nice to me. We went on as far as Brownlie's ferry on Snake river, where we met the other stages, ex- changed passengers, and then returned to Walla Walla.
In the Blue mountains between La Grande and the Grand Ronde river we had a narrow escape in descending a long hill. The Jacob's staff on the Con- cord coach I was driving broke, and the heavy coach ran against the horses. All that could be done was to give the horses the whip and keep them on the run until we reached the bottom of the hill, a half mile ahead. When we struck the level of the ground we were "running away." After another half mile, however, the team was brought under control. We camped one night under some pine trees
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
not far from where Baker City is now located, and there was plenty of fine- looking quartz scattered around, so we discussed the question of locating a ledge there, but having no tools, our resolu- tions ended in nothing done. That fall the celebrated Virtue mine was located at this same spot, and millions of dollars have been taken out of it since. We ar- rived at Walla Walla two days later. That fall I moved to Albany and lived there six months, and went to Salem in 1864, and the September following I bought out a hotel, which I ran until June, 1867. From there I moved to . Olympia, Wash.
During my career as a mail-carrier in Oregon the country was' thinly settled and the stores were few and far between, and as the mail-carrier was supposed to be accommodating, the commissions he - had to look after were numerous. Old ladies would come from both sides of my route to have errands done. One would want a paper of pins, another a flatiron, another a broom. One wanted a pair of shoes, another a pair of hose ("stockings" they called them). Some- times an old lady would stop me to ask the day of the month or what day of the week it was. Of course, I had to be po- lite and answer all of these questions, but it was rather trying at times when I was hurrying to make up lost time.
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One hot day while driving along in the timber upon the Long Tom coun- try I was overtaken by a horseless carriage. It was a man and his wife in a wagon drawn by a yoke of cattle. He and his wife were on the seat of the wagon and the woman held a baby in her lap, and the wagon box was half full of straw on which were six little white- headed children, from two to seven years of age, all of them bareheaded. One of the hind wheels of the wagon had dropped into a chuckhole, and one of
the kids rolled out in the dust, but the man did not miss him, and drove on totally unconcerned as to what had hap- pened. . I yelled to him that he had lost one of his children. He stopped his oxen and got out and picked it up. Then the old lady opened upon him. She said: "Bill Jones, you dod gasted old fool. vou wil jist lose half of these yongins before we get home." I drove on and left them settling it in their own way.
The Long Tom country in those days was a "wild and wooly west." One family would own 640 acres of land and from 50 to 200 head of cattle, with no butter in the house, and hardly ever a bite of fresh beef ; bacon, bacon all the time. All the victuals would swim in grease. Plenty of fiddlers and hound dogs, but no fresh meat. At every house a dance? Well, I should say so. A dance ould start at 4 in the afternoon and last until 10 the next day. Plenty of grub and lots of whisky. Every fellow would try to see how hard he could dance and how high he could swing his partner. Buckskin suits and blue jeans were the costumes for the men. A dandy who came to one of the dances dressed in broadcloth was in great demand. One young matron told a young girl sitting by to "hold my baby while I take a turn with that 'hoss' with the store clothes on.'
The people were all free-hearted, and nothing was too good for a stranger. He was always welcome to the best in the house, free of charge.
There are no 640-acre farms now ; all are divided up.
We laugh at many incidents of the old-timers, but way down in the corner of our hearts there is a soft spot for those old - timers, whose open - handed hospitality may have been equaled, but never excelled anywhere in the world. not even by the knights of the table round. ISAAC V. MOSSMAN.
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STOCK WHITLEY.
Stock Whitley, war chief of the Warm Springs, commonly spoken of as "Old Stock" Whitley, was the most noble- looking Indian I ever saw. He was a large and portly man, of commanding presence, and always. proffered the hand of friendship on meeting you. He seemed to be an admirer of the white race ; when some of his men in 1860 or 1861 murdered some white men near Tygh Valley, Stock surrendered them, and they were hanged at The Dalles. Stock went out with a squad of Warm Springs Indian scouts and did good serv- ice with the soldiers. He lost his life in the same action in which Lieutenant Watson was killed. I have been told that Stock requested to be buried with Watson, but do not know whether this was done or not. It seems to me that an account in detail of the action in which Lieutenant Watson and Stock Whitley lost their lives, written by some one who was present, would make a very reada- ble article, as well as a valuable acquisi- tion to history, and it is in the hope to stir up some of the survivors to action that I. write this article.
Way-sike-nee-kum was war chief of the John Day and Rock Creek Indians.
Kolwash was an old Indian living at Tumwater, near Celilo. Paulina was head chief of the Snakes. Nathan Olney, at one time sheriff of Wasco county, was a brother-in-law of Old Stock Whitley, and was reputed to be the best Indian fighter in Eastern Oregon.
The Columbias and John Days lived in constant dread of the Snakes, and for a long time kept scouts out to guard against a surprise. The Snakes had cor- raled a large number of them on "On- wa-wie illahee" (Des Chutes island, in the Columbia, now known as Miller's island), and almost annihilated them. . From the best data obtainable, I should say that this battle was fought some- where about 1820 to 1830. There were many copper vessels, flint-lock guns and such relics there in 1864, and it was in that year that I saw one of the Columbia scouts coming in from the direction of Cross Hollows (Shaniko) on a badly wearied cayuse, and with voice and man- ner indicating great terror told us the Snakes were coming. Chityke is the Indian name for Warm Springs. So much in explanation of the Chinook verses that follow.
KLOSE NESIKA ILLAHEE.
Klose nesika illahee mitlite copa Onwawie, Konaway nika tillacum mitlite yawa o'coke sun,
Lalie nika nanich siwash hyack clatawa copa Kolwash.
Mitlite tumwater skookum chuck, iskum sammon copa chuck.
Wawa Snake chaco memaloose konaway tollicum nika house.
Hyack mamook teouit copa siwash Oahut, Skookum wawa klatwaman hyas til nika cuitan.
Nika clootchman hyas klose. wake tika Snake copa nika house,
Hyas quass nika tenas-man, Spose halo mitlite cuitan.
Nika cumtux ole Stock Whitley, siwash tyee Chityke city,
Hi-you polally iskum ancutty Nathan Olney la Dalles City.
Siwash tyee Way-sike-nee-kum skookum tumtum mitlite chikem
Klonas kleminiwhit ocoke man, klonas cul- tus wawa kankan.
Nika snowhoose wake nanich Snake, klonas memoloose, klonas wake;
Paulina sullux mamook poo Memaloose Whitley, Watson, too.
Hi-you soldier Oahut hyack mamook teouit, Hi-you soldier mamook poo hi-you pil pil chaco too,
Oleaman nika o'coke sun halo masasce sul- lux gun,
Lalie mitlite Onwawie, klose nesika illahee.
CARSON C. MAASIKER.
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一
THE FUR TRADE IN THE PUGET SOUND COUNTRY AND THE "CHE-CHALES" COAST BETWEEN "SHOALWATER BAY" AND THE "QUENY-ULTH" RIVER.
I have been a resident of Puget Sound for upwards of fifty years, and for twen- ty years of that time was in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company at Fort Nisqually, near Steillacoom, in the state of Washington. Almost all of this time my services were transferred to the Puget Sound Agricultural Company, an Eng- lish corporation, which was altogether distinct from the Hudson's Bay Com- pany, as is the Tacoma Land Company · from the Northern Pacific Railroad Company . In one or more of my arti- cles lately published in the Sunday Ore- gonian, I have endeavored to show how this company stood with the Hudson's Bay Company, so I shall not now devote much time to it, but simply say that some of the members of the one company were stockholders in the other, and vice versa, and shareholders in the Hudson's Bay Company, who had no interest in the Puget Sound Company were generally impressed with the idea that the latter company were getting more favors than they were entitled to. thus making it very unpleasant to the Hudson's Bay Company's officers, whose services were transferred to the Puget Sound Agricul- tural Company.
Leaving this part of the subject, which, if persisted in, would involve a great deal of writing, I will now try to say some- thing about the fur trade, and especially about sea otters, which latter are becom- ing very scarce and valuable. The last ten years of my connection with the company I was agent in charge of the Puget Sound Agricultural Company's af- fairs at Fort Nisqually, and pending the settlement of the company's claim for compensation for certain rights they con- sidered they were entitled to. under the treaty of 1846, between Great Britain and the United States of America. I de-
voted a good portion of my time to the fur trade, making trips to the coast be- tween Shoalwater Bay and the Que-ny- ulth river and down the Sound and up the principal rivers, which latter I made in a large and commodious boat, with a strong, muscular crew of five or six hands. The fur trade was very different after 1860 to what it was prior to that date. There was little or no competi- tion then, and the company never gave an Indian money in exchange for his furs, but always goods. After 1860 or soon after, this was all changed. Compe- tition became great, and we had to break through with out old customs, and adopt the tactics of rival American traders, and give money or anything except spirituous liquor to get possession of the furs. Dur- ing all my intercourse with Indians. which was, I suppose, as extensive as was that of any other man or men in the Puget Sound country. I never once gave or sold an Indian spirituous or al- coholic liquors of any kind. I have seen so much blood shed and injury done from the effects of drinking to excess spirit- uous liquors, both by Indians and white men, that I have always been very care- ful not to give any to Indians, and if I could help it, not to allow any one else to do so. I used to make periodical trips to the different towns and cities on Puget Sound and trade most of the furs obtained by merchants or retail dealers. I found it a difficult matter to get the retail dealers to learn to tell the different qualities of some of the furs, especially bear and beaver skins. It was much easier to distinguish the summer from the winter skin, because the summer skin was dry. dull-looking and very thinly furred. Then, another safeguard in those days. we always bought beaver by weight, and that made it a protection for
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FUR TRADE ON PUGET SOUND.
the merchant buyer, i. e., if he understood the difference between a summer and a winter skin. Land otter depended en- tirely upon its quality. If large, thick- furred and glossy, it would, naturally, be called a No. I skin, and so on. according to size and quality. We seldom traded martens, and those we did get were of little value. Mink were not plentiful, and we rarely got a No. I skin; in fact, the mink we got here were of inferior qual- ity. I was, for a few years, very success- ful in obtaining sea otter skins, but had to work rather hard to get them. I went to the hunting grounds and sometimes got them direct from the hunters on the coast between Shoalwater Bay and Point Greenville, which is three or four miles south of the Que-ny-ulth river. I will, before I close this paper, try to tell the story of one or more of my trading trips to the coast for furs, and sea otter skins in particular.
The fishers skins obtained in this sec- tion of the country when in season are very good, but very few are killed ; also but few fur seals are obtained. and those obtained here are small and of not much value. I had more trouble in teaching dealers the difference in the quality and value of bear skins. Many of them would trade anything in the shape of a bear skin. Twenty years ago, when I was in the trade, a No. I black bear skin was worth from $5 to $Io. middling skins from $2 to $5. and summer skins were really worthless, but I would often give 25 cents each for them to use as outside coverings to bales of furs, and sold them sometimes to the tanner, but such skins made very inferior leather.
At times I would refuse to give any- thing for staged or summer bear skins, and more than once I have had these same rejected skins offered to me again by a retail dealer amongst a lot of otlier kind of furs, and to secure the lot of- fered I would have to allow him some- thing for them, but they were a dead loss to me, and I have often destroyed them to prevent them from perhaps get- ting into some one's hands and being again offered for sale to me.
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