USA > Washington > Douglas County > An illustrated history of the Big Bend country, embracing Lincoln, Douglas, Adams, and Franklin counties, state of Washington, pt 2 > Part 81
USA > Washington > Adams County > An illustrated history of the Big Bend country, embracing Lincoln, Douglas, Adams, and Franklin counties, state of Washington, pt 2 > Part 81
USA > Washington > Franklin County > An illustrated history of the Big Bend country, embracing Lincoln, Douglas, Adams, and Franklin counties, state of Washington, pt 2 > Part 81
USA > Washington > Lincoln County > An illustrated history of the Big Bend country, embracing Lincoln, Douglas, Adams, and Franklin counties, state of Washington, pt 2 > Part 81
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But something was wrong. Mr. Kellogg realized this so soon as he glanced at the forms to see what had transpired in the little city during his absence and, possibly, to correct any error that might have been made by the less experienced printer. The feeling grew on him that something was decidedly wrong. At first hec ould not make out what it was. Then it dawned on him. In setting the type Mr. Od- gers had begun at the opposite end of the com- posing stick from which he should, although the nicks on the type were placed outward, as was proper. This, of course made the type read as does a printed page, instead of negatively as it should. Just what Mr. Kellogg said when he realized that not only would the forms have to be reset, but that the type already set would have to first be distributed on account of the scarcity of the little metals will never be printed. Matters were finally adjusted, however, and the Empire came out only a few days late.
This was James Odger's first newspaper. But he has printed a lot of most excellent ones since that time.
A. L. ROGERS' GOLD MINE.
"All is not gold that glitters," is a very old saying, but it was not until a few years ago that A. L. Rogers, of Waterville, Douglas county, found this to be true. The story is told by the Big Bend Empire:
"When A. L. Rogers entered the field as a
perpetrator of practical jokes he probably did not think the joker would so soon become the victim. He had a sample of ore from the Entiat. Peter Friesinger offered to test it for him. While pulverizing it Peter added a lib- eral supply of gold paint and prepared 'amal- gam' to separate the gold. When water was turned upon the mass it looked like a panful of gold. Mr. Rogers dipped his finger in, with- drew it covered with glittering wealth, and yelled at Milt Mowe:
" 'My God, Milt, there's millions in it!'
"The Klondike looked like thirty cents badly stacked. He plunged his hands in, and as he held them up there floated through his mind visions of a financial revolution. His thumb represented the eclipse of J. P. Morgan. A glimpse of his forefinger made him decide to offer Rockefeller a job as special manager. Before the revelations of his middle finger the steel trust faded into inoccuous desuetude. The other two retired all the greenbacks. The drippings on his palms drove the Bank of Eng- land out of business. Another plunge brought him back to earth with a sensation of pity for the comparative failure of Napoleon, Cecil Rhodes, and the Czar of Russia. For about an hour he founded empires and, like Alexander, was sighing for more worlds to buy. Just as he was about to light his cigar with a note for $1,000 drawing twelve per cent. interest with first class real estate security, H. B. Creel tried to call his attention to their horse deal. This was too small to consider till Creel handed him an open envelope of the dry paint. One glance at that, another at the brilliant mass in the pan, and the spell was broken. Could the poet Milton have a resurrection his pen might do justice to a modern 'Paradise Lost.' But no other can. Still, Rogers says he will yet get even with Friesinger and Creel."
CHURCH SERVICES IN A SALOON.
The Big Bend Empire of March 1, 1888,
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tells of an interesting religious meeting held in a saloon in Waterville, as follows :
"To the average eastern person there is a horror of the rough society of the frontier. But as an illustration of the hospitality and liberality of the 'Wild West,' Waterville furn- ishes a good instance. Elder F. White arrived in town a few days ago and proposed holding a series of religious meetings. For some rea- son the usual place for such services was oc- cupied, and Josh Clary, our enterprising and liberal merchant and liquor dealer, offered his place as a house of worship, which offer was readily accepted and services announced. At the appointed time the house was as full as could be seated on hurriedly improvised benches. The congregation was not such as ordinarly finds its way to the cushioned sanctu- ary, but were mostly weatherbeaten men with a goodly sprinkling of cowboys as could be detected from their clanking spurs and som- brero hats. When services commenced heads were uncovered, smoking ceased and the most respectful attention was paid until the conclu- sion, when one arose and in a few telling words proposed 'that we rustle the old man a few dollars.' Nearly every man went into his pocket for a two or a four bit piece with a grace that prompted the mental conviction that after all, true christianity is not wholly confined to edifices with the tallest steeples, and that be- neath the roughest garment there may throb the noblest heart."
LOST BETWEEN THE COULEES.
1
The following account of a trip through Douglas county during the winter of 1889-90 was written by Luther P. Query two years after the experience narrated :
Winter before last there were two of us, my friend Randall and myself. Our outfit consisted of a light buggy and two horses, or I should say, cayuses: Despite the gently fall- ing snow that morning when we struck out
from near the present site of Coulee City, the atmosphere was in a manner speaking quite clear, and we expected the storm would cease entirely as the day advanced. But when he reached the top of the hill it showed no sign of abating, having increased, if anything, and it became foggy. At that time the stage peo- ple had not erected their monumental sentinels of rock along the road and so with difficulty we began picking our way.
My companion said he knew the lay of the land and was confident we could make it across Moses Coulee shortly after noon safely enough. The storm increased. There were already about ten inches of snow on the ground, much more than lay in the coulee when we started. The ponies kept pulling to one side ot avoid the storm and as the wheels struck the rough bunch grass Randall would pull them back again. For a time after one of these attempts everything seemed to go smoothly, then sud- denly the jolting recommenced. Randall pulled one way and another, but no use. Then he got out and searched about, and still he could find no trace of the furrowed tracks. We had, evidently, been out of them for Sol .!? distance. We had lost the road. Meanwhile the snow was falling more heavily and the wind had become stronger and uncertain. We turned on our back track.
"It may clear up after this," remarked Ran- dall.
I thought it was a queer prospect, but I hoped it would, for to me the situation was becoming dubious and entirely uninviting. We followed back for, perhaps, a quarter of a mile or more. The wind continued whipping around fitfully, now destroying our tracks al- most as rapidly as they were made. We could find nothing of the road.
"What now?" I asked, shivering.
"We must be half way over, and will be apt to strike the road directly," said Randall. "Let's head west and go on."
We did so, at least as best we could find
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HISTORY OF THE BIG BEND COUNTRY.
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out. I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past eleven. So dense and blinding was the snow that the lay of the land over which we were traveling could hardly be dis- tinguished a rod ahead of the team. Anyone who has been out in such weather knows how it is. You can't tell which is up and which is down hill, only as you pass over it. Sometimes the wheeling was quite smooth and sometimes we bumped up against rocks or sage brush and had to back off to avoid and get around them. Once, in passing over a sharp and unforseen declevity the buggy tipped so far over that I was thrown out. Then the team plunged into a deep snow drift and came near breaking the tongue in floundering about.
Thus for three hours we kept going, walk- ing and riding by turns. At a quarter of two we stopped long enough to feed the ponies a small measure of oats we happened to have along. We had nothing for ourselves, so we trotted about and swung our arms vigorously to keep warm. Then we started again. Three oclock, half-past three and four o'clock came on, and soon night and murky darkness. I was worn out walking but I dared not ride much because of the cold. The horses made attempts to break away and run, then to stop, neigh un- easily and tremble. This failed to add to spirits, especially mine, in the least. I don't know how Randall felt, but I began to feel that by another day all would be over with us. I was losing hope. The storm increased in fury and the cold became more stinging and intense. My overcoat felt to me like a sheet of ice and Randall looked like a walking icicle. I dreaded to part with the horses, but suggested that we unhitch and let them go for themselves.
"No, let us both get in and go a little fur- ther," replied Randall.
We patted the horses encouragingly, then got in and started. The gloom of night, the raging storm, and the cold was awful-terrible. The horses wanted to trot: Randall allowed them. We had, evidently, struck where the
snow had been blown off and was shallower. They increased to a gallop. Suddenly-and how suddenly ! Great horrors! To stop was im- possible! A chasm of black, fathomless dark- ness yawned beneath us.
"My God!" gasped Randall, "the coulee walls !"
Over, downward we plunged! Death was my only thought. Crash! Chug! And we seemed buried in snow. Then a ray of light flashed over and upon us. I thought it was the light of another world. A vision appeared- an angel. Yes, an angel in night shirt-or night robes-what a sight! Then I began to realize. My senses were returning.
"Maria," I heard the spectre say, "I'll be blessed if somebody ain't went an' driv plum over our house."
And sure enough, so we had. It was a dugout in the bank of a small draw. The yawning chasm was a ten foot spot in front of the cabin, and our team and buggy plunged clean over it into a huge snow drift. We were six miles from the top of the Grand Coulee hill and perhaps three from where we lost the road so many hours before.
CASTLE ROCK.
A person who has made him home on the prairies of Minnesota, says the Coulee City Re- victo, as he stands on the brink of the precipice a short distance from Castle Rock, just south of Coulee City, and looks down is filled with awe and admiration at the beauties of nature that are spread out far below him. There he sees a huge basin bounded on all sides by per- pendicular walls of rock several hundred feet high, so straight and even that it is hard to believe they were not fashioned by the hand of man.
Two little lakes, reflecting the colorings of the sky, appear to be just below one. And off a little farther, near one side of the basin, is Castle Rock, grand and majestic, towering
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HISTORY OF THE BIG BEND COUNTRY.
above the highest walls that bound the basin. Castle Rock viewed from this point looks like a picture of one of Sir Walter Scott's castles of the olden time, and seems to be guarding the little kingdom in which it is situated. Some one has built a pile of rocks on top for a chimney, and this adds to the illusion. As one stands above the little lake he is seized with a desire to toss a rock over and see it splash in the water below. He picks up a rock as large as his fist and gives it a toss. It apparently startes for the center of the lake, but as it descends it appears to be drawing in toward the wall, and when it strikes it is not near the lake. The body of water which seems to be just below one, is in reality several hundred feet away.
GRAND COULEE.
Wilbur Register: Indian legends are num- erous in the great state of Washington and the Grand Coulee country has its share of these stories. Many years ago, according to a story told by an Indian brave, the lakes in the Grand Coulee contained monster sea animals which sported around in the water all seasons of the year. This old liar of an Indian tells that his great-grandfather at one time had an en- counter with these sea monsters and during the battle, which lasted three days, no less than thirteen stalwart sons of the tribe lost their lives. The water was colored a deep red with the blood of the luckless warriors and the slaughtered sea monsters, and remained in that state for years and years. In fact, the shore of the lake in question was dyed a beautiful carmine and in many places remains in that condition to this day.
Of course this story is the result of an imaginative and superstitious brain. However, it is claimed by several army officers who in the early days used to hunt in the coulee, that the bones of strange animals were occasionally found in the mire along certain lakes in the Grand Coulee.
THE BLOOD-THIRSTY COYOTE.
Any one who has lived in the Big Bend country of Eastern Washington for any length of time knows more or less of that much de- spised (but never feared) animal, the coyote. A new-comer from the east, even at this late day, might be freely excused for not feeling exactly comfortable should he find himself alone on the prairie some dark night, and, ap- parently, surrounded by a howling pack of wild animals, which one could imagine bear- ing down on him, as he might have read of the terrible Russian wolf doing. That is, to qual- ify the statement, he might be excused had he not been enlightened concerning the habits of the coyote.
But we are credibly informed that in the early days of the Big Bend's history these animals were far more numerous than at pres- ent, and the nights were, certainly, made hideous by the howling "varmints." In the then unsettled condition of the country a stranger might be readily excused for enter- taining fears if placed in the condition of the gentleman described in the following remin- iscence by Mrs. James Gordon Bennett, of Ritzville :
"As we have no Indian story to relate, perhaps Mr. Schuler's introduction to coyotes will not be out of place. In early days Messrs. Schuler, Smith and another gentleman whose name we have forgotten (they were recently from Pennsylvania). started out from Ritzville one morning in search of land. They wandered around all day. Night came on and they made the discovery that they did not know where they were. They were both tired and hungry, having had no food nor anything to drink throughout the day. Their feet were blistered, heads aching, and hearts longing for the green fields of Pennsylvania, far away. In this condition they were about to surrender to the inevitable and pass the long night on the prairie, when one of the party espied a light
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in the distance. Mr. Smith and his friend thought that by heroic effort they might walk to the light, but Mr. Schuler said, 'No, I never can walk there; I'll tell you what to do. Go to the house, get a wagon and come back for. me. If it was to save my life I could not walk there. I am completely exhausted.'
"So they left him with the understanding that about the time he thought they might be returning he would call occasionally to them, as they were fearful they might not be able to locate his whereabouts in the darkness. On their arrival at the house they found the family sitting down to supper. They related their tale of woe, and the man of the house in- formed them that he would accompany them so soon as he had finished his meal. Imagine their surprise when, going to the barn they discovered Mr. Schuler in the yard. The gen- eral exclamation was, 'You here! How did you get here ?'
"'Well,' replied Mr. Schuler, 'after you left me the wolves began to howl; they were all around me; I thought they would devour me; I forgot all about my feet and ran as fast as I could. I tell you I thought my time had come.' "
JIM'S REPORT.
Many good stories are told of the early days in Eastern Washington when the cowboy was in his glory. A good one was related to the Washtucna Enterprise, some few years ago, by Judge Joseph Thomas, of Walla Walla. In the early days he was a cowboy foreman on the Big Bend range. Now, one of the most serious labors of a foreman was connected with the quarterly report. Here is one, which Judge Thomas avers he received from the Big Bend range in palmy days before any railroads had reached the country, and when the settlers were few and far between; when the cattle men had dominion over the land :
"Deer Sur :- We have branded 800 caves this round-up We have made sum hay, Potatos
is a fare crop. That Inglishman you left in charge at the other camp got to fresh and we had to kil him. Nuthin much has happen since yu left yours truly Jim."
FIRST ADAMS COUNTY STRAWBERRIES.
A. S. Elder told the following in regard to early days in Adams county to the Washtucna Enterprise, in January, 1903 :
"If I am not mistaken the first furrow plowed on Rattlesnake Flat, and in fact in this section of the country, was plowed by myself. It was 18 years ago, and I remember very dis- tinctly about my first crop. I had in between four and five acres of wheat, and during the summer I went over in the Dayton country to get a grub stake for the winter. Russell Brake- field made a proposition to me that he should harvest my wheat on shares, and I willingly took him up, giving one-half. There was no machinery here then, not even a scythe, and he pulled the wheat up by the roots. My share, straw, roots and all, amounted to eleven sacks.
"It was about this time that the first exper- iment was made trying to raise strawberries. Uncle Will Martin and I lived near each other and we each had a patch of strawberries. After the berries began to ripen, and there was about a quart in all on my vines, my wife and I walked over one Sunday afternoon to call on Uncle Will and wife. Of course he took us out to view his strawberries. There was, per- haps, a pint on all of his vines and Uncle Will carefully removed the leaves under which he kept his berries concealed and discoursed glow- ingly upon their size and beauty, but his hos- pitality did not go to the extent of offering any of these berries. A sample all around would have stripped his vines. After spending a very pleasant afternoon with Uncle Will and his amiable wife we all walked back to my place, and of course I had to show him my strawber- ries. I knew where everyone of them was lo- cated, and could have picked out the exact rest-
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ing spot of all the large ones in the dark. I picked several of the largest and ripest berries and offered them to Uncle Will to sample. My liberality almost staggered him.
"'Why, surely, you don't have enough to eat ?' he exclaimed in astonishment. 'Certainly, I said, 'We have had them until we are tired of them.'
"His astonishment was beyond all descrip- tion, and he made no attempt to conceal it. After silently meditating a few minutes he remarked, 'Well, Al, your ground was plowed a year earlier than mine.'
"After he found out how I had lied to him, and that we hadn't even tasted a strawberry, to say nothing of having them for table use, it was sometime before I had anything to say to him about my strawberry crop."
RECESSIONAL.
Written by A. T. GREENE, of Waterville, Washı.
The moon shines bright 'round the old house tonight Standing all alone upon the hill ;
And if you'll hearken you'll find it has a voice Though it seems so silent and so still.
Oh, it's lonesome now in these old deserted rooms Erstwhile so cheerful and so bright,
And on the winds that are sighing through the halls Comes a voice to you all tonight.
CHORUS :
Goodbye, Oh, my children, As you go on your way
We will sing one song for the pleasant times we've had Together for many, many a day.
Some four years ago you came to live with me; Only boys and girls were you then.
I used to laugh at your stern and wrinkled brows O'er some problem far beyond your ken. Many hard knocks I have seen you take since then, And many sad hours you have passed, Many bright hopes looking forward to the day That has come to you all at last.
CHORUS.
As you go forth to join the moving throng That's ever toiling up life's road,
With hearts and hands then do your duty well, And so cheerfully bear your load.
That when by and by the summons comes to join The class that has passed over the way, May you hear the Master say "Well done," Upon the grand commencement day.
CHORUS.
COMMENCEMENT HYMN.
Dedicated to Class 1904, Waterville High School, BY A. T. GREENE. Alter Alteri, Omnes Deo.
To Thee, O God, our youth we bring- Our choicest gift, our greatest prize, And unto Thee, our Lord and King We pray accept our sacrifice.
May they remember Thee, their God, Now in the joyous days of youth, Grow strong beneath life's chastening rod, In ardent, holy zeal for truth.
Grant them of manhood's high emprise To follow where the truth may lead, And by its altar stairs to rise, On stepping stones of thought and deed.
Grant them a woman's gentle hand, To calm the fevered brow of care,
Dispel the sadness of the land, And plant the Rose of Sharon there.
So may they live to bless their kind, With helpful deeds, with graces rare, Come to these lives, Oh, love, divine, And set thy royal signet there.
ACROSS THE BIG BEND IN 1856.
George W. Miller, who took part in the Indian war of 1856-6, as a member of Com- pany H, of the First Regiment of Oregon Mounted Volunteers, and who has been a resi- dent of Columbia and Garfield counties since August, 1860, gives a very interesting account of a march across a portion of the Big Bend country in the campaign of 1856. Mr. Miller says :
"I well recollect the surroundings of the Oregon Mounted Volunteers' camp on Mill creek, at the place where the city of Walla Walla now stands, at the beginning of the year 1856. At that time it was a bleak, cold, dreary
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looking place, with but little timber or brush near. The snow was eight inches deep and the mercury twenty degrees below zero.
"The principal part of our diet during the winter was meat and potatoes. This was good enough and we had no complaint to make until our potatoes were gone and our beef began to get blue. Then we began to feel blue and would have kicked had we been in kicking distance of the authorities who sent us there; but we were not. Our famous march was made from Pa- louse Falls to Priest Rapids, under a scorching sun, a distance of 90 miles, with only twowater- ing places and these were springs so thorough- ly impregnated with alkali that our horses would not drink the water that flowed from them. Our food was horse meat with a hand- ful of flour to make an occasional pot of horse soup. Arriving at the second alkali spring we pulled out a few dead horses, and then when the hair quit boiling up it was ready for use.
Here my first pot of horse soup was made from the shank of a horse boiled in alkali water half an hour, then a handful of flour stirred in to thicken. it. But this soup wasn't good; we re- ceived no nourishment from it.
"By the time we reached Priest Rapids most of the boys were afoot, some carrying their guns, saddles and blankets on their backs, hoping to find a cayuse pony on which they could ride. From here we took up our line of march for Walla Walla, hoping there to find something better to eat. This campaign was made through a country that had not a thing to forage for, but the cayuse horses, and most of them too poor to skin. When we found plenty of them we shot them down and took their liver and heart to eat, that being more easily masticated than the flesh of the poor animals; and then it did not have that dirty, sweaty, saddle blanket taste that the poor horse had.
CHAPTER III.
LIEU-LAND LITIGATION.
Allusion has been made in another portion of this part of the History of the Big Bend to what are technically known as the "lieu-lands." Perhaps Whitman county was the most vitally interested in this important question, but it practically affected all the counties traversed by the Northern Pacific railway, and occa- sionally some not reached by that road. Thus it chances that Lincoln, Adams and Franklin counties become interested sections in the liti- gation which followed the passage of the lieu- land act.
Briefly the conditions were these: July 2, 1864. the original grant was passed by con- gress providing for a statutory withdrawal from sale or from homestead entry all odd sec-
tions within defined limits so soon as a railway line of general route had been determined. In Washington Territory this provision became effective when the map of July 30, 1870, was filed and approved. This map showed the line as entering the Territory of Washington near the southeast corner, about ten miles north of the Oregon line; thence running nearly due west to the confluence of the Walla Walla and Columbia rivers ; thence along the course of the Columbia to about the first range line west of the Willamette principal meridian; thence north to the point where the international boun- dary line first touches the tide waters of the Pacific ocean.
Another map was filed February 16, 1872,
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HISTORY OF THE BIG BEND COUNTRY.
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