USA > Washington > Chelan County > Illustrated history of Stevens, Ferry, Okanogan and Chelan counties, state of Washington > Part 144
USA > Washington > Ferry County > Illustrated history of Stevens, Ferry, Okanogan and Chelan counties, state of Washington > Part 144
USA > Washington > Okanogan County > Illustrated history of Stevens, Ferry, Okanogan and Chelan counties, state of Washington > Part 144
USA > Washington > Stevens County > Illustrated history of Stevens, Ferry, Okanogan and Chelan counties, state of Washington > Part 144
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LEGEND OF THE COLUMBIA.
Long ago when earth was young, the area lying between the Cascade range and the Blue Mountains was covered by a vast inland sea. Often the winds, sweeping down these heights in contrary directions, lashed the waves into furious commotion.
Now Manitou, ruler of the affairs of na- ture, dwelt upon the lofty summit of Mount Hood. Chancing one day to part the cloudy curtains of his abode, he looked out upon the sea in one of its terrific aspects. His anger was aroused and stamping his foot until the mountains trembled, he exclaimed : "The Great Spirit Manitou is weary of strife and tumult among the elements! This ceaseless beating of the waves! Go to, now! I will let loose these seething waters, and they shall be- come a noble river."
Hastily he descended the mountain. With gigantic force he rent huge rocks asunder,
piling them on each side in frowning cliffs and beetling crags. He uprooted the towering trees tossing them aside in an intricate tangle of roots and stumps. Then he speedily tore away the mountain barriers. The hitherto impris- oned waves surged through the rocky chasm, here in lovely cascades, there in foaming rapids. At last of the great sea eastward there was left only a gentle stream falling from the bosom of a quiet lake on the slope of the Rocky Mountains in the far north, trailing like a silver ribbon through the rocky gorges and narrow defiles, and across the level plains that had arisen from the sea. Westward from the Cascade range the great Manitou guided the whirling waters into a channel growing wider and deeper until a majestic river, which should some day bear on its swelling tide the ships of a world's commerce and pleasure swept over its sandy bar and was lost in the boundless depths of the Pacific.
BATTLE AT THE MOUTH OF THE OKANOGAN. !
"The reluctance of the Indians to part with that portion of the great Okanogan reservation lying at the mouth of the Okanogan river," says the Okanogan Outlook, "was owing to the fact that a great burying place was located on the river bottom on the site of the old town of Swansea, a fact that is well authenticated by the large number of human bones found in making excavations for foundations, cellars, etc. It is said by the old Indians living along the Columbia that many years ago when old Fort Okanogan was destroyed by the Indians and the Hudson's Bay Company's employes massacred, the Indians thought they had settled the hated King George's men forever, but they reckoned without thinking of the long arm of the old company. When the news of the mas- sacre reached headquarters at Victoria orders were soon speeding by special courier to tough old Alexander Ross, who commanded the com- pany's post at Vancouver, now a United States
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1 military post in this state, to take instant meas- ures to punish the Indians and rebuild the post. "With his usual energy Ross gathered his forces and with a well-equipped party of voy- ageurs and a flotilla of bateaux carrying a few brass four-pounders the outfit started on their long voyage up the Columbia. After the weary portage around the Cascades they finally ar- rived at Rock Island, where now the Great Northern railroad crosses the Columbia, where they had their first encounter with the Indians, who were soon driven off, and the party, after another portage around the rapids, commenced the last stage of their journey to the ruins of Fort Okanogan. The Indians made great preparations to drive back the invaders of their hunting grounds. With all the canoes that could be gathered from the Methow, Okanogan and upper Columbia rivers, the fighting strength of all the tribes lay concealed in the backwater of the Okanogan, where it joins the Columbia, awaiting the arrival of the hated King George's men, when they would sweep out and utterly annihilate the unsuspecting enemy, but Ross, being a cunning leader, was not to be taken by surprise. A close watch was kept as the outfit proceeded up the river, and they finally arrived opposite the mouth of the Okanogan, where they beheld the swarm of Indians issuing from their place of hiding, and in answer to the clouds of arrows from the Indian a well-directed fire of musketry soon turned the tide of battle in favor of the whites, while the crash of the shots from the four- pounders told of broken canoes and swimming Indians.
"Eager to inflict much merited punishment on the Indians who were thus, providentially, placed almost within their grasp, the Hudson Bay men pursued the flying Indians who, now anxious for nothing but to escape, made what haste they could to reach the foothills and safety. The whites with their artillery and musketry shot down all who could be reached, without mercy. Ross, in his report of the oc-
currence, says with the brevity of our own Preble : 'I met the Indians at the Okanogan and buried 118 on the spot where they fell. Those who were not buried floated down the river.' While working on the grade at Swansea, re- cently, a much rusted sphere of iron was turned up on the hillside facing the site of the battle and burial place. This bit of old iron, which is undoubtedly one of the cannon balls fired at the Indians, is in possession of A. E. Baird, who intends to present it to the state historical society."
THE LEGEND OF PAULINE.
She was of the tribe of Wenatchee. Long years before the advent of white men into the valley of Wenatchee, there stood upon the banks of this beautiful stream an Indian vil- lage. The scene was more picturesque then than now, for in those days the country was in its wildest grandeur-no plowed fields, no mod- ern dwellings, or irrigation ditches were in existence to mar the beauty of nature's own. Yet there were human beings who made it their home-who fished the streams and hunted in the majestic mountains that surround the val- ley, while their herds of ponies grazed upon the luxuriant bunch grass on the plateaus. Such was the condition of things when the red man ruled supreme, and when the Indian village was: built upon the north bank of the Wenatchee river near its mouth some fifty years ago.
The subjects of the beautiful picture to which no word-painting can do justice, are the only relatives of Pauline, daughter of the once famous Indian chief, Wenatchee, who ruled his tribe with an iron hand. Yet, he was as pliable as putty in the hands of his fair daughter, and in reality she it was who ruled. She was much sought after and admired, but to all her heart. was as stone. But, as she was only human,. there came a time when her heart was set flut -. tering, and as the gods willed, was her fate. The following is the story of her tragic end :
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About this time there appeared upon the scene a handsome young Canadian, who was in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company, and who had come down the mighty Columbia from the far north to trade with the Indians. He was known among the tribe as "Doc," but what his real name was is only to be surmised. as there are no records to inspect for the real facts.
It did not take "Doc" long to guess that the fair Indian maiden was in love with him, and he determined that he would steal her away from the Indian chief at whatever cost.
Although the Indians were peaceable, he knew that to steal the chief's daughter was cer- tain death if he should be caught. But, knight of old, he knew not what the future had in store, and cared less.
One dark, stormy night they met and per- fected their plans. They were to take two of the chief's best ponies and a few days' pro- visions, and ride as fast as horse flesh could carry them to the north until they reached the Hudson's Bay Company's post on the Okano- gan ; there they were to be married by a Cath- olic missionary.
The night of departure was at hand and all went well. The old chief slumbered and knew not that his fair daughter was flying from him. The couple mounted their horses and rode away, taking the trail along the river. "Doc" was armed to the teeth, and knew how to use his guns to advantage when in close quarters.
All went well until they were nearing Kockschut mountain, where they met a band of Indians returning from a hunt, and among them was a former lover of Pauline. The Indian realized at once that he had been outdone, and he decided upon the spot to get revenge. He opened fire upon his rival, calling upon his braves to help him. "Doc" was not slow, and before his would-be captors were aware of it, six good Indians had bitten the dust. The battle raged for over an hour, but the lovers were finally captured and taken back to the
Indian village, where "Doc" was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be burned at the stake, Pauline being forced to witness the scene.
The torch was applied to the faggots, and as the flames leaped up around their victim, gaily painted Siwashes danced merrily around, in- dulging in war whoops.
Poor Pauline! She could not stand the awful sight. After exhausting every means in her power to save her lover she decided to die with him. Breaking away from her captors she flung herself into the flames and was burned so horribly before being rescued that she died the following day.
All that remains is a rough stone slab, upon a little knoll near where the Indian village stood, to mark the resting place of Pauline, and to this day the Indians in passing by stop and murmur, "Poor Pauline! Good girl!"
BATTLE OF MCLAUGHLIN'S CANYON.
Mr. James McLaughlin, one of the earliest pioneers of the northwest, relating his experi- ence of the battle of Mclaughlin's canyon, in Okanogan county, said, as reported in the Spo- kane Review of 1891 :
"It came near being a massacre. We start- ed for Wallula the latter part of June, 1858, with a pack train and one hundred and forty- nine men for the Fraser River country. The outfit comprised a representation from nearly all the states, and quite a number of half breeds. We got along peaceably with an occasional quarrel among the different sets of our men (which, of course, didn't count), until we ar- rived at Moses Canyon, where we were attacked by Red Jacket, chief of the Palouse Indians. In the fight we lost one man killed (Evans, of Portland), and several wounded, besides some of our pack animals. The reason we got off so lightly was that the Indians were anxious to stampede the stock, especially the pack animals, instead of hunting scalps. We knew to a cer- tainty that we were in for it for the rest of the
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journey and kept a bright lookout, and we were not disappointed. We had reached a point four miles above the mouth of the Okanogan, where we found the Indians reinforced by the Colum- bias, or Rock Island tribe, under Chief Moses, who took command of the combined Indian forces and tried to prevent our crossing. Old Frenchway, as he was called, allowed us to take his canoes, and I crossed in the evening with twenty-one men to watch the movements of the Indians. I tell you there was no talk- ing or sleeping that night. The next day we crossed the entire outfit and although we could see hundreds of painted devils, we were not attacked, and we camped that night at the mouth of Chlowist Creek.
"The next day Wilson, of Portland, took command of the advance guard and we started along the east bank of the Okanogan river, keeping a bright lookout for ambushes, for the very quietness of the savages looked more dangerous to me than if they had been whoop- ing and shooting at us. That night we were not molested and only one attempt was made to stampede the stock; but the next morning after we had climbed the first hill, before en- tering a canyon, not seeing any signs of In- dians, I became suspicious and called a halt. while I rode forward with one man. I had not proceeded two hundred yards when I noticed bushes piled against rocks, and my eyes being
pretty sharp, I noticed that the leaves were wilted. Telling my companion to stop where he was I started to investigate the suspicious circumstance, and had got within thirty yards when I noticed a painted buck behind a little stone fort, or breastwork, and before I could investigate any further or bring my gun to my shoulder, he fired, the ball taking effect in the neck of my horse, killing him instantly. The fight immediately became general, and lasted from 10 o'clock a. m., until 5 p. m .. when we retreated to the river under a steady fire from the Indians. We remained awake that night expecting an attack every moment. Several attempts were made during the night to stam- pede the stock, but as each attempt cost the reds some of their best braves, they desisted toward morning. We lost in the fight four killed and twenty wounded. The killed were McGrew and Wright, of Cass Valley, California; one Irishman and one Englishman, whose names I have forgotten, also twenty-five pack animals. Remember these events happened (1891) thirty-three years ago.
"The next morning we built a raft of drift- wood and crossed to the west side of the river. That is what they call the 'massacre of Mc- Laughlin's canyon,' and it was hot for awhile. We were followed by the Indians all the way to Rock Creek, occasionally getting a crack at some thoughtless straggler."
HECKMAN BINDERY INC.
MAY 87 N. MANCHESTER, INDIANA 46962
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