USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, Vol. I > Part 25
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When the Great Spirit heard this he was so glad that he ran down the moun- Main side on the south so fast and strong that the snow was melted off in places, and the tokens of his steps remain to this day. The grizzlies went out to meet him My thousands ; and as he approached they found apart in two great lines, with their hils under their arms, and so opened a
lane by which he passed in great state to the lodge where his daughter sat with her children.
But when he saw the children, and learned how the grizzlies that he had cre- ated had betrayed him into the creation of a new race, he was very wroth, and frowned on the old mother grizzly till she died on the spot. At this the griz- zlies all set up a dreadful howl; but he took his daughter on his shoulder, and turning to all the grizzlies, bade them hold their tongues, get down on their hands and knees, and so remain till he returned. They did as they were bid, and he closed the door of the lodge after him, drove all the children out into the world, passed out and up the mountain, and never returned to the timber any more.
So the grizzlies could not rise up any more, or use their clubs, but have ever since had to go on all fours, much like other beasts, except when they have to fight for their lives, when the Great Spirit permits them to stand up and fight with their fists like men.
That is why the Indians about Mount Shasta will never kill or interfere in any way with a grizzly. Whenever one of their number is killed by one of these kings of the forests, he is burned on the spot, and all who pass that way for years cast a stone on the place till a great pile is thrown up. Fortunately, however, grizzlies are not plentiful about the mountain.
In proof of the truth of the story that the grizzly once walked and stood erect, and was much like a man, they show that he has scarcely any tail, and that his arms are a great deal shorter than his legs, and that they are more like a man than any other animal.
This quaint and charming legend was first told by Joaquin Miller in his inter- esting narrative "Paquita," originally published as "Life Among the Modocs." Of all the traditions of the simple and lowly red man there is probably none more picturesquely vivid or that will live longer in the folklore of his vanishing people.
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
Photo by Davies. PROF. A. P. ARMSTRONG, President Abernethy's Cabin.
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Photo by Burns. SAMUEL L. BEARY, Financial Secretary Abernethy's Cabin.
Photo by Abel-Herrin Co. HICKS C. FENTON, M. D ..
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Photo by Tollman. FRED H. SAYLOR.
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
man is bewildered by the vastness of space, the depths of which no telescope can penetrate, from which thousands of years are required for a flash of light to travel to this earth. Throughout all this bewildering field of worlds, moving like a vast army through space, every atom is surrounded by myriads of laws which guard, guide and maintain it. Every planet moves with such precision that a thousand years ago an astronomer said to his friends, 'In a thousand years and a day the sun will be in eclipse at 4 o'clock in the afternoon,' and today the sun was darkened. Is there· not a com-
mon center for all these laws to emana: from? If so, then must not that center be not only infinitely powerful, but it: finitely wise?"
"Yes, I believe in that."
"Well, what do you call it?"
"I call it nature."
"Very well; you call it nature; the Chinaman calls it Joss; the Indian call- it the Great Spirit, and the Christian calls it God. Call it what you will. the fact remains that you' worship the same God as the Jew, the Christian, and the idolator. There is but one God, and He is the Supreme Being."
W. G. STEEL.
TO LADY FRANKLIN. Said to have been written by Colonel E. D. Baker.
Fold thy hands; thy work is over; Cool thy watchful eyes with tears; Let thy poor heart, over-wearied, Rest alike from hopes and fears.
For thy brave one, for thy lost one, Truest heart of woman, weep; Owning still the love that granted Unto thy beloved sleep.
Not ior him that hours of anguish, When the long ice-battle o'er, Through the sunless day his comrades Deathward trod the polar shore.
Spared the cruel cold and famine. Spared the fainting heart despair; What but this could mercy grant him: What but this has been thy prayer.
Sad it is the English yew tree O'er his slumber may not wave: Sad it is the English daisy May not blossom o'er his grave;
Yet his tomb shall storm and winter Shape and fashion year by year; Pile his mighty mausoleum Block by block and tier by tier.
Guardian of its gleaming portal Shall his stainless honor be; While thy love, a sweet immortal, Hovers o'er the winter's sea.
A NATIVE SON.
U'nder the great blue spur, putting out Tom the Coast Range mountains, and -dering the Grand Ronde Indian res- ervation, there resides, in a little 10x12
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Photo by I. N. Hobbs, MeMinnville. PETER UMPQUA,
log cabin, a Native Son, whose span of hic has reached the ninetieth milestone. His name is Peter Umpaqua. At least you will find it so recorded on the pen- ion list at Washington, D. C. Peter is a Mexican War veteran, and so far as nown, he is the only Indian throughout ': State of Oregon drawing a pension. Peter came by his pension both honestly und honorably. How? Why, by prov- why himself a true and trusted friend dur- ag the troublesome times of pioneer days. How Peter thus proved himself !! « staunch friend that he has always Inen. and also gained his $8 pension, which the government was at first loth woo grant, is best told from extracts of a 'tter now in the possession of Captain H. S. Maloney, of MeMinnville, from Hon. C. H. Burch, of Amity, to Hon. J. 1. MeLane. Indian agent at Grand Konde, who was instrumental in placing
the name of the aged scout where it rightly belonged-on the government pension list:
"Umpaqua Peter. bearer, has called on me with a note from Hon. S. C. Black, ad- dressed to you, in which it says that his (Peter's) name 'is not borne on the rolls of Captain Ford, or on any of the companies of Fremont's battalion. This would seem to settle the matter. But in. justice to Peter, and at his request, I submit the following statements of facts: Mr. Andrew Baker and myself were members of Cameron's company en route for California in 1846; and when at South Umpqua, I think about the Ist of June, Peter, then a wild savage, with others of his tribe came into our camp, and on our march next morning he (Peter) and ten others joined our company and went through to California with us (our company was made up of Americans. Canadian-French and half- breeds.) Shortly after our arrival in Cali- fornia Baker and myself enlisted in the serv- ice, and in October, 1846, when we took up our line of march under Fremont, going south, I there found Peter with the command: he remained with us on our march and until the troops were discharged at San Gabriel, Cal. But I do not know as to whether he was enlisted or not, or, if so. whether he was honorably discharged. In fact, I do not know as to the character of his services, but certainly believe that he was enlisted and honorably discharged. Besides Peter there were other Indians. probably a dozen Walla Wallas and two Delawares, whom I saw mar- shaled in battle array. and know that they were there for other purposes than sight- seeing or their health: and I presume Peter was similarly circumstanced. I have known Peter since the date. towit, 1846. Sir. Peter desires that you embody this statement in a letter to the honorable commission, and if such testimony as herein indicated will be of avail. then he will move in the matter: other- wise it would be useless. Trusting that you will do the friendly office of writing to the honorable commission. I subscribe myself, ever. Your friend,
C. H. BURCH.
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
Many things are told of Peter. On his return to Oregon from California he again enlisted his services with the whites, and was instrumental in whip- ping the Rogue Rivers into subjection. He also assisted in bringing the Rogue River and Umpaqua Indians north and placing them on the Siletz and Grand Ronde agencies. While on the way north Peter again proved himself a true . friend. One dark, stormy night, while the command was camped in the foot- hills near Dallas, it was planned among the redskins to seize the arms of the sol -. diers while they lay sleeping, and put the company to death. Peter got wind of the affair. Stepping into the firelit cir- cle, his eyes blazing with anger, he raised an accusing finger and pointed first to one tribe and then the other, saying in a voice of scorn:
"Dogs! Dogs of the Umpaquas! Dogs of the Rogue Rivers !- you whose fath- ers and fathers before them were old and pilton (foolish), this shall never be! I, Peter Umpaqua," and he smote his breast, "I, Peter Umpaqua, who have clatawaed to far off illahees, have seen! I have seen the white man; I have seen his children; I have seen his children's children! They are like the flowers of the plains-the sands of the sea-the
grasses of the sweet illahee of plenty Wah! By the bones of Kamlich, in great ancestor, this shall never be! Yo would be swept away like the grasshop per before a storm! I have spoken."
The scorn in Peter's eyes, his simple straightforward dignity had its effect and the insurrection came to an end there and then. It is also said of Pete that while in the employ of the govern ment, while the command was on its way south, that the battalion came to the banks of a deep, turbulent river, swollen to overflowing by a recent freshet. was necessary for the pack train to crost this river; there was no way around it A call was made for volunteers to take the bell mule across. Peter at once stepped forward and offered his services, After taking this mule across he returned for another, and yet another, until he had swum and re-swum the river twenty eight times, landing fourteen pack-laden mules on the opposite bank, nothing the worse for his watery bath. These facts together with Mr. Burch's letter. were laid before the proper authorities at Washington and acted upon. Thus it came about that the name of poor old Peter of the sunset land was inscribed on the pages of the pension record.
THOMAS HESPERIAN ROGERS.
The following table will give some idea of the many Klondikes at home. Only the leading products are included, and they represent the yearly yield:
Hay
$11, 144,330
1,364.407 Potatoes
Oats
3,197.434
Barley and rye
2,164,429
Wheat
16,000,000
Fisheries
1.962.471
Gold
4.993.500
Fruit
1.000,000
Butter and cheese
206,623
Hops
1,200,000
Wool
1,990.000
Poultry
100,000
Lumber
4.548,762
Total
$50,055.956
This material exhibit, fragmentary and inadequate as it is, ought to convince thoughtful men of the great future be- fore the Pacific coast. In the words of . William H. Seward, spoken before the United States senate in 1852, "Hence- forth European commerce, European politics, European thought and Euro- pean activity, although actually gaining force, and European connections, al- though actually becoming more inti- mate, will nevertheless relatively sink in importance, while the Pacific ocean, its shores, its islands and the vast regions «beyond will become the chief theater oi events in the world's great hereafter."
MOUNTAIN LORE.
HEIGHT OF MOUNT HOOD.
It a regular meeting of the California Academy of Natural Sciences, held Sep- 'ember 16, 1867, Lieutenant-Colonel Williamson read the following interest- ng paper:
Having recently formed a party and visited Mount Hood for the purpose of ascertaining its altitude, and as my de- Formination of its height is much less :han previous parties have made it, I think it proper to state somewhat in de- tail the nature of the observations and the method I have pursued to arrive at the number I adopt as a close approxi- mation to its true height. . ;
By the kindness of General F. Steele, commanding the department of the Co- Ambia, the necessary transportation was furnished for the party, consisting of 12 persons, of whom my two assistants, Lieutenant W. H. Heuer. United States engineer, and Mr. John T. Best, were especially charged with the observations on the summit.
We left Portland, Or., August 20, and on the evening of the 22d arrived at a Hace on the slope of the mountain, where we camped, and from which, the next day, the ascent was made: seven of the party attempting to reach and six fraching the summit, where they re- mained from one and a half to three hours.
From this camp to the summit and back to hours were occupied, starting " 7:30 A. M. The day was clear and Brasant, and had been so for several days before, and was so for several days siter.
The instruments used at all the sta- tions were made by James Green, of New York, were in perfect order and
most of them new. They consisted of cistern barometers, reading to two-thou- sandths of an inch. with attached ther- mometers and open-air thermometer (dry and wet), with large divisions, so that they were easily read to tenths of a degree. All the barometers had been adjusted or compared with the standard, and all agreed with them except the one at Astoria, which required a plus correc- tion of three-thousandths of an inch.
The stations used were Astoria. Fort Vancouver, Fort Dalles, camp on slope of Mount Hood and summit of Mount Hood. Observations had been taken for several years at Astoria for me by Louis Wilson, United States tidal ob- server, at 7 A. M., 2 P. M. and 9 P. M. of every day. besides hourly obser- vations for 10 days or more of each month. The cistern of this barometer is 53 feet above mean low tide.
At Fort Vancouver observations of the same character were commenced July I of this year, and are still going on. At Fort Dalles similar observations have been made since Tuly 10. The ob- servations at the camp on the mountain slope were commenced at 7 P. M. on August 22, and continued hourly (with few omissions) until 8 A. M. on the 24th. The barometer at the summit was hung up at 1:30 P. M., August 23, and al- lowed to stand a half hour in free air, but protected from the direct rays of the sun. It was then adjusted and observed at 2 P. M., 2:15 P. M. and 2:30 P. M. by Mr. Heuer and Mr. Best independ- ently, and the two records as shown to me-were essentially the same. The mean reading of the barometer reduced to 32 degrees Fahr. was 19.941 inches, with an
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
. JOHN M. BRECK. JR ..
Photo by Moore. WILLIAM E. HARRIS.
Photo by Tollman. CAPTAIN ORIN KELLOGG. A Pioneer of INis.
Photo by Watson. CAPTAIN CHARLES H. KELLOGG. A Pioneer of 184S.
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MOUNTAIN LORE.
Served temperature of 41 degrees 7 grees and 43-7 degrees, or nearly 20 de- nunutes and wet bulb of 31 degrees 3 minutes.
The height of Fort Vancouver above Istoria was computed from the mean of the simultaneous observations taken during the months of July and August. The height of The Dalles above Fort Vancouver was deducted from the cor- responding observations during 21 days, July, together with those for the month vi .August. The height of the camp on the mountain slope above Fort Vancou- wer. and also the height of that camp above Fort Dalles were then separately computed from the daily means of the observations taken at the three stations during August 23. The difference be- tween the two should give the same re- sult as by the direct calculations between Fort Vancouver and Fort Dalles, but on account of the short period observed on the mountain camp, a plus correction of a little over eight feet was found nec- ossary to the estimated height of that camp to make the three results agree.
It then only remained to calculate the height of the summit of Mount Hood above the mountain camp. The m:can of the three observations of the barometer was assumed as the nearest approximations we can have to the mean pressure for that day, as the horary os- villation at the summit is unknown.
With regard to the mean temperature for that day, we have no positive data to determine it. We cannot take the observed temperature. as the observa- tions were taken during the hottest part oi the day.
By consulting the hourly observa- tions of the thermometer at the camp. I find the range there is between: 63 de-
grees, and supposing nearly as great a range of temperature on the summit. I have assumed the mean temperature there, for the day, to be 34 degrees.
The following is the final results of the computations :
Alt. Inter. Above Alt. Sea Line.
Stations.
Sea level at mean low tide
0
Astoria
Fort Vancouver. 53
53
79 132
Camp on mountain slope . 5,820 5.952
Summit of Mount Hood . 5,273
11,225
The Harriman scientific expedition re- turned from Alaska on August I, and during the evening the members were entertained at the residence of Mr. Hen- ry L. Pittock by the Mazamas, at which time Henry Villard and wife, their son and wife and Mr. Gregory were present. as also a very few invited guests from Portland. The expedition left for the East via Denver and Salt Lake in Mr. Harriman's special train on the 2d inst.
One of the most successful outings in the history of Mazamas was taken this year on Lake Chelan and in the valley of the Stehekin, where the scenery is universally acknowledged to be superior to anything heretofore seen by mem- bers of the club. In a later issue we will have an illustrated article on the subject.
Henry L. Pittock and wife have in- vited the Mazamas to spend an evening on their spacious grounds, and the club has accepted the invitation for a camp- fire and reunion, Monday, October 2.
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THE MILLER FAMILY IN LITERATURE.
By John B. Horner, A. M., Litt. D., Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature in the State Agri- cultural College of Oregon.
JOAQUIN MILLER, BARD OF THE SIERRAS.
There is no standard by which talent can be measured except by the ever- changing standard of public opinion. They who write of the every-day affairs of life-things familiar to all-may be appreciated; but they who catch a · glimpse of the above and beyond and tell what they see, must be content to
Photo by Davies.
JOAQUIN MILLER, A Pioneer of 1854.
wait. Poets and prophets must look to the fulfillment of their prophecies for rec- ognition: like artists, they must wait for the dull eyes of the multitude to become familiar with their delicate tints or gor- geous coloring; like advance guards oi an army, they must await the victory for their share of praise. More than sixty years ago Tennyson, with prophetic vis- ion, saw the time
"When the war drum throbbed no longer and the battle flags were furled
In the parliament of men, the federation of the world."
This prophecy will surely be fulfilled. but the poet's beautiful vision will be looked upon as a chimera of the brain for thousands of years. Shakespeare was almost unknown at the time he was introducing the greatest dramas that delight the world. Homer begged his bread while he recited verses which are now read in all languages and loved by all peoples. Of the latter-day poets whose works have become famous. the New World has produced its full share. Whittier, Bryant, Longfellow, Holmes. Lowell and a score of others represent the East, while Bret Harte, Joaquin Miller, Sam. L. Simpson, Minnie Myrtle Miller, Ella Higginson and many others have caught and fixed the brightest tints of the Western sunset. and sung sweet melodies along the golden shores of the Pacific. Among the first of the Western poets in Oregon's adopted son, the sub- ject of this sketch. He has attracted more attention and provoked more dis- cussion than any other one of them all. Adverse criticism, no less than the praise he has won, marks him as a poet of no ordinary talent, and insures him a lasting place in literature. Today he can surely say to those who derided his early ef- forts, as Joseph said to his brethren, "Ye thought evil against me, but God meant it for good." They had sold Joseph into slavery, but when they were hungry he gave them bread, and they were recon- ciled unto each other; the poet, like Jo- seph, has given his brethren bread when they were hungry. Will they not be rec- onciled unto him?
While traveling in California recently. I could not resist the temptation offered
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THE MILLER FAMILY IN LITERATURE.
to visit the recluse poet in his home at Oakland Heights, where he dwells, as Walt. Whitman and all true children of nature love to dwell, surrounded by rural scenes, in close communion with nature. The drive from East Oakland to the Heights, a distance of two miles, is beau- tiful in the extreme. Broad and smooth, the road skirts a ravine and winds about the hill; it is cool and refreshing, being shaded on either side by Monterey cy- prus. eucalyptus, and acacia trees. On arriving at the poet's home, the first sight one gets of the man is furnished by the home he has built-for his mother. His father long since dead, with loving hand the poet has drawn his mother away from the more active struggles of life to spend her remaining days with him on the mountain near the clouds. Then the conservatory filled with choice flowers speaks of him as a lover of na- ture, but the man-the lover of nature- the poet himself-was found in bed. in a little cell whose dimensions and primi- tive simplicity forcibly suggested the early settlement of the coast. Although only 3 o'clock in the afternoon, he had retired to rest, but received us most gra- ciously without rising. I was invited to a seat on the bed at his feet, while my wife occupied the only chair in the room. Here was a man who had received the hospitality of the most polished men and women of Europe, a man who had been a welcome guest in the most magnificent dwellings in the Old World, a man whose attainments now entitle him to a welcome to any society he may enter, a man who had abandoned all to follow the bent of his genius and to live with the primitive surroundings of a pioneer, with wants as simple as those of a child.
A survey of the apartment revealed a pair of trousers and high-heeled boots suspended from nails driven in the wall, an ancient bureau in one corner, a horse- hide rug on the floor, and a straw hat
banded with a scarlet ribbon ornament- ing one of the high posts of the bed. Then the eye catches a number of folded papers tacked to the wall above the poet's head (these are letters received from distinguished literary persons). And, last, we are shown the photograph of an Indian maiden, daughter of -Old John, chief of the Rogue Rivers, whose subjugation in 1856 cost many lives and two million dollars. There were no lamps, candles, or books to be seen. The poet rises with the birds, and with them he retires. He never burns "the mid- night oil," and complains that there are too many books. He declares that men rely too much on books; and that they are valued by the number of books that they carry with them, whether or not . they know anything of nature or of na- ture's God, of whom books should speak.
Everything about the man is quaint, everything around him is curious. The rug on the floor is said to be the skin of a faithful steed which carried General Fremont across the plains in 1843. It has been related, though we saw no evi- dence of it, that he has a hose attached to a pipe from a spring above the house in such a manner that he can cause the water to fall in a shower on the roof when he wants to write. If this be true, it must be intended as a compliment to Oregon, where it rains so much, and where the poet's boyhood days were spent. There seems to be nothing in him like other men except his care for flowers and his love for his mother. But the poet-it is he of whom we now speak -once his lips move, and the little room with its quaint furniture, bare floor, walls and ceiling, disappear: and we stand with bared brows beneath the broad can- opy above, while our ears are filled with the murmuring of gurgling streams whose surface gives back to heaven the light of countless stars. Old words take
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OREGON NATIVE SON.
on new meaning; old thoughts stand forth new born, and living waters follow every stroke. We were interested in all he said, but time admonished us to tres- pass no longer on his resting hours. Re- luctantly we said "good-bye" and were glad our road wound lingeringly around the hill so the transition was less abrupt from the poet's ideal world to the busy, bustling scenes of every-day city life on the plain below; yet our thoughts were still of the poet on the mountain where he is keeping vigil, his ear filled with the low, sweet music of nature, while his eye catches visions from the clouds which pass over his head ...
His numerous works and particularly his recently published volume-of poems. "The Songs of the Soul." show him to be no idler. His spindle and distaff are ever in his hand; he spins the flax God sends, handing the threads down to his fellows on the plain. May we not weave some of them into the woof or warp of our lives?
On our return home, Hon. George A. Waggoner, an old schoolmate and friend of the poet, handed me a sketch pub- lished in a Corvallis paper ten years ago. In this, Mr. Waggoner, who has written a volume that may yet add luster to Or- egon lore, speaks so beautifully and kindly of Joaquin Miller as known among his associates before he attempt- ed to write, that we obtained permission to insert the following extract:
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