USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, 1900-1901 > Part 61
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Leaving Buda-Pest at 1 A. M. by rail (steamers also are run all the way from here to Constantinople), I awoke the following morning at Belgrade; not a large town-probably 25,000 to 30,000 inhabitants-but the most important one in Servia. To a person who has made a trip to the Pacific coast over the Atch- ison, Topeka & Santa Fe railway I can describe Servia as seen from the rail- way cars by saying that it is very sim - ilar to the Arkansas valley about La Junta and along to Trinidad, Raton, etc. The general elevation is, of course. not so great; but such as it is, the hills rise much as they do near the places aamed, in Colorado and New Mexico. Moreover, the houses are of brick or adobe, usually one story, plastered out- side and whitewashed, and having red tile roofs. The people seen along the road do not look very different from natives of New Mexico, though the
railway employes and some others have a slightly official air which distinguishes them from the common run.
At Nisch the train was apparently reversed-the engine being attached to what had been the rear-and thus made its way up the canon of the Maritz: river, right along the stream, the cliffs or steep, rocky hills on either side rising to an elevation of about one thousand feet. After passing through several tunnels we emerged upon an open and comparatively level country - agricul- tural and grazing-resembling northern Nebraska or Dakota; and toward even- ing Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, was reached, a city much the same as Bel- grade in size and general appearance. Philippopolis, in Eastern Roumelia, was passed in the night; Adrianople, in the Turkish province of the same name, the following morning. Finally, we crossed the Golden Horn, and reached the Pera- Palace hotel, in Pera (that part of Con- stantinople lying mainly along the Bos- phorus) before noon-thirty-four hours en route from Buda-Pest to Constanti- nople-of which latter city my next Budget will treat.
@My Valentine
The Douglas spruce, or Douglas fir, as it is sometimes called, was first dis- covered by David Douglas, who was sent out by a London society. It was named after him because he found it. Mr. Douglas also discovered the variety known as the Luck pine. He found a seed in an Indian's bullet pouch. He was eager to know what it was. The Indian told him where there were some trees. Douglas traveled two days and found only three trees. The branches were so far from the ground that he thought it would be easier to shoot a cone from the branches than climb the tree. The discharge of his weapon brought three Indians to the spot, and when Douglas looked around he saw three arrows aimed at him. He jumped behind a tree and threw away his gun. n.
but kept his pistol. He parleyed with the Indians and finally bargained with them to get some cones for him. He then traveled leisurely until evening, when he built a fire and pretended to make preparations to camp. Instead of lying down and going to sleep, he trav- eled all that night and escaped from the Indians, who had followed him instead of getting the cones for him, as they had promised to do. After years of re- search and adventure, this most intrepid man came to a most untimely end. He was on one of the Hawaiian Islands and was walking through a forest looking up at the trees. He fell into a pit dug by natives for the purpose of capturing a wild ox. The ox was in the pit and gored poor Douglas to death. This ended the career of the man after whom the . Douglas fir was named. 'as nam
ยท TILLAMOOK ROCK.
Waist deep, by the Western ocean's brim Tillamook Rock stands, gray and grim; Stern-faced and steep, beetling and high, It rears its cliffs to the storm and sky ; The waves that beat and the surf that raves Tell the old story of wrecks and graves. Here came, long ago, Spain's caravel, Driven to fate by the typhoon's hell ;
TILLAMOOK ROCK AND LIGHT HOUSE. Courtesy "Evening Telegram."
Here, long before, when the silent ocean Answered no. pulse to the world's commotion, Wide lateen sails, from the Orient Land, Drifted to wreck on this farthest strand. But ever the ships of Old Spain found way The Tilamooks crept from their sheltered bay, Stealing to harbor, past cliffs high hewn, Where Columbia's flood leaves its drift far strewn. Facing the shores all their ocean front, High mountain walls stand the storm's worst brunt; While here and there comes a river through, Cleaving its rift through the mountain view.
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
Jagged and rough, on the ocean brim, The frowning shore line has sentinels grim, Where the sea crabs climb, and the vagrant seal Watch the swift salmon a-past them steal. Standing outside of the surf's white spray, Standing waist deep, as if daring the fray, Tillamook Rock, through the darksome night, Cheers the lone mariner with its light.
Far more welcome than gleam of star, Seafarers watch for that ray from far ; And the lighthouse keeper is oft-times pent In storm-swept tower, till the gale is spent. Driving with wrath at the Rock's grim base The sprays that dash wash the lighthouse face, Lifting great rocks from depths of the sea To bombard the face of this enemy. There is no path up that rocky steep,
There is no shade there; the shadows creep As the day goes by, and the steep cliff-sides Throw into shadow the racing tides. Oft-times that Rock has, through nights of storm, Sent kindly gleanings to warn of harm. And never was greeting to sailor given, Storm-beaten long, and tempest-driven, Has filled his heart with so deep content As the light that Tillamook oft has sent. . -Samuel A. Clarke.
William Cannon, a Virginian, who came to the Pacific Northwest with the Astor expedition in 1810, is said to have been the first builder of a flouring mill on the Pacific coast, Vancouver, Wash., being the location where it was erected.
In 1839 he was there, and said to Dr. McLoughlin, chief factor of the Hud- son's Bay Company: "Governor, let me build you a flouring mill."
"A mill? A flour mill? Bless you. man, where will you get the burrs?" "Make them out of the granite in the hill back of the fort," said Cannon. "What power?"
"Cattle power."
The doctor consented, and Cannon went to work, constructing the frame of fir and the cogs and wheels of oak hard- ened by boiling the wood in seal oil, and cut the rough granite in proper shape and size with a cold chisel. When the mill was completed, oxen were yoked, and it was set to running, when the wheat was poured into the hopper, com- ing out as flour, the first of the genuine article of home manufacture to be milled. The people from far and near then in the country came to the fort to witness the event, and from that day forward the more primitive methods of grinding wheat was a thing of the past.
THE FUR TRADE IN THE PUGET SOUND COUNTRY AND THE "CHE-CHALES" COAST BETWEEN "SHOALWATER BAY" AND THE "QUENY-ULTH" RIVER.
A MAN was working for the com- pany, under me, in the year 1860, I think. He was an Irishman, an old discharged soldier, a Mexican vet- eran. He was strong and hearty, and about fifty-five years of age. He was a shepherd, and had taken the place of an Indian herd, who were not allowed to show themselves anywhere away from the reserves or forts since the Indian war commenced. This old shepherd was, as 'twas with most of his kind, very fond of anything of an alcoholic character, and one evening, having arrived home to his, generally, cheerless habitation, was, to his surprise and pleasure, of- fered a bottle of stuff by his wife, and was pressed and coaxed to drink. He was a little shy at first, because the donor of the delightful drink was an Indian, an old admirer of his wife, and who, report said, etc., etc.
He was, however, soon persuaded to taste, and afterwards he didn't require any persuasion, and was soon in a drunken condition, and fell upon the floor in a stupor, from which he was soon awakened by agonizing stomach cramps. Poor fellow! It wasn't long before his sufferings became terrible to witness, and he soon breathed his last A sort of a sham inquest was held. Coroner, jurors and doctor went out to the house of the tragedy, and all were satisfied that the poor man had been poisoned with strychnine, but nothing was ever done; in fact, if I recollect aright, the result of the inquest was never made known to the public. I knew of other similar cases. One in particular, which occurred in 1874. or 1875. Two men, Englishmen. and one the man Kingdom I had with me upon this trip, were drinking at the home of
one of them who was married to an In- dian woman, who was (the woman) said to be a "hard case," although the mother of several children. During the carouse, these men were taken suddenly, violently ill with cramps and terrible dis- tortion of the limbs, and it was plain to an intelligent man, one of the party present, that these men were suffering from strychnine poisoning. This man had once served as hospital steward at Fort Steillacoom, and he at once brought his knowledge of strychnine poisoning into play, and, administering antidotes, the sufferers were soon pronounced out of danger. It was, to the sober looker- on, quite amusing to see the movements, and listen to the words of these two men, when they were thought to be at death's door. "Kingdom," the runaway English sailor, made all manner of protestations of reform, and swore that he would never more touch the b-y stuff. "Gawd strike me blind if he would," and the other, who was an intensely ignorant man, who thought the state of Maine was in Ireland (a positive fact), said, between the spasms of pain, "He'd be danged if he'd quit. He'd have a dang sight more o' drinks yet afore he died," and, sure enough, he did: but two or three years after this happened he was, with his family, returning from Tacoma on the afternoon of the Fourth of July He was sitting at the end of the wagon, his legs hanging down, when the horses gave a jerk, pitched him out, and when he was picked up he was found to have sustained injuries about his neck which, in the course of two or three days. caused his death. The other man con- tinued his habits of dissipation until death brought him up with a round turn. He was one morning found dead
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in his bed from the effects of heart dis- ease, brought about, no doubt, by his habits of intemperance. The other man referred to was the subject of some re- markable adventures, the most promi- nent of which was being the recipient of a pistol shot, an attempt to murder him. He had just left my house (he was working for me at the time) and was sitting upon the side of his own bed when a drunken half - breed, with whom he had quarreled slightly, came into the house, and without saying a word fired downwards at him, the bullet entering his chest, between the nipples, passed obliquely through his body and lodged against the backbone, near its end (the tail end), and it could plainly be felt there with the finger. He was carried to a neighbor's house, and I tel- egraphed to Olympia for a doctor, but we all present expected to see him breathe his last every minute, the wound seemed to us to be so certainly fatal, but he was alive when the doctor arrived, hur- riedly, and after turning the patient upon his stomach, he pressed the skin near the end of his backbone, which made the bullet show very plainly. He then made a light cut with his knife, causing the bullet to pop right out, after a little manipulation with the fingers The doc- tor, an old army surgeon, told me to watch the man, and if blood appeared, he would surely die. The next morning I rode to see the patient (about five miles from my house) and I certainly expected to find him dead, but, to my intense surprise, he was sitting up in bed, smoking a pipe, and he said he felt very well! No blood had appeared, and he soon was in a condition to resume his drunken habits, but it wasn't long be- fore he met with the fatal accident I have before described. The wound this man received was the most wonderful ever recorded in this part of the country, and its recipient fortunate to escape death so easily; that's what skilled men said. It ploughed obliquely right through his body, and how it escaped wounding vital organs, was a wonder to all who saw the patient immediately after he was shot. The would-be mur-
derer was arrested and confined in the old Steillacoom jail, but before his trial, I think, he made his escape, and never more was heard of. I have occupied some time and space in telling this true story, but the act was of such an ex- traordinary character, and its results so unexpected, that I though it worthy of telling.
Returning to my story: With the as- sistance of my men I got the goods all opened and laid out in my temporary. store to show to the best advantage, and as is usual with Indians. the first few days were devoted to looking at and pricing the goods, and before doing ac- tive business, which I fully expected to do, I determined to take a trip up the beach, and made arrangements with old John, who resided at the point, on the opposite side of the river (the north point), I think its American name is Damon's point, named after a mian who formerly took a pre-emption or home- stead claim, taking within its boundaries the point and its surroundings. Da- mon was not living there at that time. John owned several horses (Indian ponies) and I arranged with him to have one ready for myself the next day at about 2 P. M., and a horse each the next day for my two men, who were to follow me the next day and take care of the furs I expected to trade with the In- dians at the Que-ny-ulth reservation. I ought to have mentioned that in conse- quence of these coast Indians having be- come very saucy and suspected of hav- ing murdered a white settler residing near the harbor, a detachment of about twenty United States soldiers from Fort Steillacoom, commanded by Lieutenant De Jester, were located on the Que-ny- ulth reservation, and had constructed there, at the mouth of the river, a block- house for protection from the Indians should they show any pugnacious signs, and a house for the soldiers to live in. The next afternoon John was on hand with his canoe, well manned, and the tide being favorable, we went across and arrived safely on the other side. Tlie river at its mouth is about six miles in width, and sometimes crossing is dan-
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gerous, as the current when running out is very strong, and if a boat or canoe is caught in the middle of the river when the tide is ebbing, the cliances are that the boat with its crew will be carried across the bar and all hands drowned. I was told that such cases have happened more than once, and not many years ago a scow, laden with lumber, in at- tempting to cross was carried into the breakers, where the scow was capsized, and its crew of three hands were drowned. I went to John's lodge and got my horse, which I mounted and started off. The little brute was lazy and rough paced, and the saddle was a verit- able instrument of torture. The road, as I have before stated, is across the sandy beach, and is one of the finest in the world until a few miles beyond the Copalis river, when it changes, and is. I think, one of the worst roads in the world. It is rocky and covered with large stones and gravel. In crossing the Copalis, which is about half the size of the Puyallup, I escaped, almost, getting a wetting, but in the middle I went into a hole and my horse almost had to swim for it. The middle bottom was V- shaped, but it was deep for only a short distance. If course, I got a wetting, but I soon made Copalis Jim's lodge. where I rested awhile and dried my clothes partially. Jim then was a dirty- looking fellow, and not very young, and in his lodge was an Indian squaw, and I have often wondered if she is the pretty girl "Nawanda" Mr. Bashford so prettily sings about in his poem about "Copalis Jim," sitting day .after day in his iron cage fastened to a rock some distance from the shore hunting sea otter and lamenting the loss of "Na- wanda." Jim had no cage in my day, but did his shooting from the shore, and it was very, very seldom that the poor fellow killed an otter. The roof poles of his lodge were hung around with sea lion bladders and stomachs (it looked to be that), containing seal and other kinds of fish oil, which the Indians on that coast used for food. The lodge was awfuly rank smelling, and I was very glad to get a whiff of fresh-smelling air
outside. Jim was not a very talkative fellow, and I could not get much out of him about otter hunting, but after a good deal of talking I prevailed upon him to show me his sea otter skins. He had two, very fair skins, and I got him to promise to bring them to me at the point in the course of a few days, when I would give him a good price, either in money or goods for his skins. I always found it much harder work to trade furs from coast Indians than from white men. I left Jim's lodge, as the sun was get- ting rather low, and I expected to soon see the cabin of one of the white hunters which was upon the beach, but I rode some distance without finding it, and I began to fear that I would have to camp upon the beach or else ride back and beg a night's lodging of Jim; but I hated the idea of doing this, and another cause of anxiety was I had money on my person, and I thought the white hun- ters would guess that I had it, because a man on a sea otten buying trip must necessarily have money to enable him to buy skins. I well knew that some of these men bore rather hard reputations, and I thought how easy it would be for one or more of them to waylay me, and after making me helpless, before show- ing him or themselves, rob me of the money. Some three or four years prior to my visit a prominent man residing on the harbor or up the river had been murdered, and one of the otter hunters had been suspected as having committed the deed, but the murderer was never discovered. I thought of all these things, and just as I was seriously thinking of returning as far as Jim Copalis, I es- pied a light in the distance, and, whip- ping up my poor old horse, I soon came to a log house upon the beach at high- water mark, and knocking at the door, it was soon opened and I was kindly in- vited to enter, and, to my delight, I found the owner of the shack to be an acquaintance, an otter hunter named or nicknamed "Yank." There were two otlier nien in the house, who were also hunters, and one was the man referred to above as being suspected, etc. I will say here about these men, the hunters I
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had heard so much about, that I found them all to be decent and apparently re- spectable fellows. They were kind- hearted and generous, and they were pleased to see strangers and treated them to the best they had. Of course, they were always bent upon getting the best of a trade, and didn't think it a sin to sell or give an Indian liquor There were many other reputably good people in the country who were of the same way of thinking. "Yank" was quite an old man, apparently about sixty years of age, not at all large, but wiry and strong-looking. He had been a hunter nearly all his life, and devoted these last years of his life to hunting sea otter. He had lived for many years on the coast of California, near Crescent City, where he said sea otter were more plentiful than they were here, but the fur. he said, was not so good and brought a lower price in the market. He had eight skins now ready for me, if we agreed as to price, and he was only waiting to conclude the trade, get the money from me and be off to the (to him) much bet- ter country in every respect-California -the superiority of which he was never tired of talking about. After a good supper of venison steak, grouse and good coffee, to which we all did ample justice, Yank produced his skins, which proved to be a very fine lot, and we soon made a trade. I only made one offer- $40 each-which he at once accepted, and he insisted that I should buy his old rifle, one of the old-fashioned, heavy sort, which I gave him $10 for, and soon sold for double that amount to a connoisseur of ancient things. The other two men said they had twelve otters and a lot of smaller skins, which they agreed to take to the point and trade them there. We agreed to all meet at the point, John's lodge, on a certain day and hour, and all cross over together After con- cluding our trade talk, the three men filled their pipes and proceeded to tell hunting lies, and I acted the greenhorn so true to life that they were carried away and told such varns. such. extra- ordinary lies, that Baron Munchausen was a truthful "James" alongside of
them. Old Yank soon showed his su- periority, and the other two soon gave it up, and listened to the old and more seasoned liar with astonishment and in- credulity plainly marked upon their faces. Notwithstanding the yarns these men told, I learned from them more about sea otters, their habits, and meth- od of hunting, and hunting and trapping in general than in my long trading ex- perience. These animals are getting to be scarcer and harder to get every year, and from being shot at so much keep a long distance from the shore, and it is useless for any man to attempt to hunt them unless he is a good shot and able to hit the mark at a distance of from two hundred to one thousand yards, and at that distance (the longer) the mark of- fered is so small and so much hidden by the surf that many shots are fired before one brings success. The hunter seldom can tell at once whether he has killed or not, as the poor brutes always sink to the bottom if killed, and the hunters are al- ways patrolling the beach to be on hand when a dead carcass is washed on shore. and sometimes the carcasses are dam- aged by sharks and other savage fishes. oftentimes making the skin almost worthless and only fit to be cut and sold in strips. I recollect an occurrence which happened on one of my trading trips. I was alone and making the journey on horseback from the Que-ny-ulth reserva- tion to Peterson's point, and when within a few miles of the Copalis river I saw something in the distance lying at just about high-water mark which I took for a piece of driftwood, and I thought no more of it and continued to jog along. my mind full of sea otters, Copalis Jim and Miss Nawanda, when looking up. I saw in the distance a man running as fast as he could towards the dark ob-
ject upon the beach. It immediately occurred to me then that it was the dead body of an otter which had been washed ashore after being shot dead in the surf. I could easily have beaten the foot- runner and become the owner of the, perhaps, valuable skin, but I didn't want to. My business was to encourage these men to hunt, and I didn't for a moment
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wish to deprive this man of the fruit of his daily and often unprofitable toil, so I allowed him to possess himself of the animal, which he had almost denuded of its skin by the time I rode up. The skin appeared to be in good condition, and had not been dead very long. I could not judge very well as to its real value until it had been stretched and dried, and the man, appreciating my action in allowing him to get ahead of me, prom- ised to take the skin, with two or three others he had, to the point, which he did, and I gave him $40 in coin for it. Sea otters are to be found only in a few . places upon the coast. I don't know any- thing about the coast north of Cape
Flattery, but these animals are only found in two places south of Cape Flattery, from Point Greenville to Gray's Harbor, a distance of about twenty - five miles, and down south off the coast of Crescent City. It
is very seldom ~ that otters are killed south of the harbor and north of Point Greenville. This is very strange, but it is true, and there must be some- thing between the two points partic- ularly attractive to these animals and which prevents them from straying either above or below these points. The otter seems to be fond of playing in the surf, and when riding along the beach I have seen them playing like puppy dogs.
EDWARD HUGGINS.
1
The Indian name of the location upon which Salem stands was Chemekete. The meaning of the word has been va- riously interpreted. Some say "here we rest"; others "place of peace"; and again "council ground." It is known that the tribes visiting the location met each other there and that there was a cessa- tion of any hostilities among them dur- ing the time. The Methodist mission- aries who settled there in 1844 doubtless understood that it was a "place of peace," and to this interpretation was due the selection of the name of "Salem," which also has the same meaning.
In the fifties an effort was made to change the name again. Corvallis, meaning "heart of the valley," seeming to have the preference over. other names being proposed, among the latter being Woronoco, Chemawa, Multnomah and Chemekete. About this date the pro- prietors of the townsite of Marysville were endeavoring to have the capital re- moved to their city, and thinking that the name of Corvallis more euphionious than Marysville, stole a march on Salem and secured the passage of a bill incor- porating their place as Corvallis. Since then no move has been made to bring about a change of name.
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