Ha I OG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE Columbia A TALE OF THE PIONEERS OF THE GREAT NORTHWEST BY HEZEKrAii Hi: rrKinvoKTii AL'TIIOK OP THE ZIO/.AU BOOKa ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK D. APPT.KTON A N I) COMI'ANY 1890 CoPYKKillT. KiOO, Dt d. ahpi.eton and company. 51^ PREFACE. A YEAR or more ago one of the librarians in charge of the young people's books in the Boston Public Library called my attention to the fact that there were few books of popular information in regard to the pioneers of the great Northwest. The librarian suggested that I should write a story that would give a view of the heroic lives of the pioneers of Oregon and Washington. Soon after this interview I met a distinguished educator who had lately returned from the Colum- bia River, who told me the legend of the old chief who died of grief in the grave of his son, somewhat in the manner described in this volume. The le- gend had those incidental qualities that haunt a susceptible imagination, and it was told to me in such a dramatic way that I could not put it out of my mind. A few weeks after hearing this haunting legend 4 PREFACE. 1 went over the Tlocky Mountains by the Canmh'an Pacitic Kailway, and visited the Cohunl)ia River and the scenes associated with tlie Indian story. I met in Washington, Yesler, Dehney, and Hon. El- wood Evans, the historian ; visited the daughter of Seattle, the chief, " Old Angeline " ; and gathered original stories in regard to the i)ioneers of the Puget Sound country from many sources. In this atmosphere the legend grew upon me, and the out- growth of it is this volume, whicli, amid a busy life of editorial and other work, has forced itself upon my experience. ^ II. B. 28 WoRCKSTER Street, Boston, July 4, 1890. CONTENTS. • • CIIAITKR I.— Gretchen's Violin .... II. — The Coief of the Cascades HI.— " Boston' TiLiruM " IV. — ^Iks. Woods's Tame 1'>ear, Lttti-e " Hon Over" V. — The Nest of the Fishino Eaole VI. — The Mountain Lion VII.— The "Smoke-Talk" VIII. — The Black EAOLffs Nest of the Falls of the Missouri IX. — Oretchen's Visit to the Old Chief of the Cascades X. — Mrs. Woods meets Little " Holl Over AGAIN XT. — Marlowe Manx's New IIobixson Crusoe . XII. — Old Joe Meek and Mr. Spauldino . XIII.— A Warning XIV. — The Potlatcii XV. — The Traumerei again .... VAOK 1) 27 4;} 86 95 114 127 14G 154 102 170 181 190 e CONTENTS. CIIAPTKB PAOR XVI,— A Silent Tribe 204 XVII.— A Desolate Home and a Desolate People . 215 XVIII. — The Lifted Cloud— Toe Indians come to the Schoolmaster 221 Historical Notes. I. Vancouver II. The Oregon Trail . III. Governor Stevens . IV. Seattle the Chief . V. Whitman's Ride for Oregon VI. Mount Saint Helens 229 282 23G 230 244 250 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE Gretchen at tho Potlatch Feast . . E. J. Aiiftten Frontispiece Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls 16 " Here were mountains grander than Olympus." The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma . . 88 In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared ut the door of the cabin A. E. Pope . . 72 Tho eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed after him in his talons . . . E, J. Austen . . 84 The mountain lion . . . . D. Carter Beard . 92 An Indian village on the Columbia . 130 Afar loomed Moimt Ilood ... 135 A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn 14S At the Cascatles of the Columbia . 183 Multnomah Falls in earlier years. Redrawn by Walter C. Greenough 205 The old chief stood stoical and silent . E. J. Austere . 209 Middle block-house at the Cascades . 242 THE LOG SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. CIIAPTEU I. GUKTCllEN 8 VIOLIX. An elderly woman and a German p^rl were walking along the old Indian trail that led from the northern mountains to the Columbia lliver. The river was at this time commonly called the Oregon, as in Bryant's poem : " Where rolls the Orepon, And no sound is heard save its own dashings." The girl had a light figure, a fair, open face, and a high forehead with width in the region of ideality, and she carried under her arm a long black case in which was a violin. The woman hud lived in one of the valleys of the Oregon for sev- eral years, but the German girl had recently arrived in one of the colonies that had lately come to the 10 THE LOG SCnOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. territory under the missionary agency of the Rev. Jason Lee. There came a break in the tall, cool pines that lined the trail and that covered the path with glim- mering shadows. Through the opening the high sunnnits of Mount St. Helens glittered like a city of pearl, far, far away in the clear, bright air. The girl's blue eyes opened wide, and her feet 8tunil)led. " There, there you go again down in the hol- low ! Haven't you any eyes ? I would think you had by the looks of them. AVell, Gretchen, they were placed right in the front of your head so as to look forward ; they would havv) been put in the top of your head if it had been meant that you should look up to the sky in that way. What is it you see ? " " Oh, mother, I wish I was — an author." " An author ! What jout that into your simple head ? You meant to say you would like to be a poet, but you didn't dare to, because you know I don't approve of such things. People who get such flighty ideas into their loose minds always find the world full of hollows. No, Gretchen, I am willing you should play on the violin, though some of the Methody do not approve of that ; and that you should finger the musical glasses in the evening GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN. IX — they have a religious sound and soothe me, like ; but the reading of poetry and novels I never did countenance, except JMethody hymns and the ' Fool of Quality,' and as for the writing of poetry, it is a Boston notion and an ornary habit. Nature is all full of poetry out here, and what this country needs is pioneers, not poets." There came into view another opening among the pines as the two went on. The sun was ascend- ing a cloudless sky, and far away in the cerulean arch of glimmering 8j)lendors the crystal peaks and domes of St. Helens a])peared again. The girl stopped. " Wliat now ? " said the woman, testily. " Look — yonder ! " " Look yonder — what for ? That's nothing but a mountain, a great waste of land all piled up to the sky, and covered with a lot of ice and snow. I don't see what they were made for, any way — just to make people go round, I suppose, so that the world will not be too easy for them." " Oh, mother, I do not see how you can feel so out here ! I never dreamed of anything so beau- tiful ! " " Feel so out here ! Wliat do yon mean ? Haven't I always been good to you ? Didn't I give 12 THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBL\. you a good home in Lynn after your father and mother died i Wasn't I a mother to you ? Didn't I nurse you tlirough the fever ? Didn't I send for you to come way out here witli the immigrants, and did you ever find a better friend in the world than I liave l)een to you ?" " Yes, mother, but — " " And don't I let you play the violin, which the Methody elder didn't much approve of ? " "Yes, mother, you have always been good to me, and I love you more than anybody else on earth." There swept into view a wild valley of giant trees, and rose clear above it, a scene of overwhehn- ing magnificence. " Oh, mother, I can hardly look at it — isn't it splendid ? It makes me feel like crying." The practical, resolute woman was about to say, "Well, look the other way then," but she checked the rude words. The girl had told her that she loved her more than any one else in the world, and the confession had touched her heart. " Well, Gretchen, that mountain used to make me feel so sometimes when I first came out here. I always thought that the mountains would look 2)eaJceder than they do. I didn't think that they GRETCUEN'S VIOLIN. 13 would take lip so miicli of the kiid. I suppose that they are all well eiioupjh in their way, but a i)ioneer woman has no time for sentiments, except hymns. I don't feel like you now, and I don't think that 1 ever did. I couldn't learn to play the violin and the musical glasses if I were to try, and I am sure that I should never go out into the woodshed to try to rhyme sun with fun^ no, Gretchen, all such follies as these I should shun. "What difference does it make whether a word rhymes with one word or another ? " To the eye of the poetic and musical German girl the dead volcano, with its green base and frozen rivers and dark, glimmering lines of carbon, seemed like a fairy tale, a celestial vision, an ascent to some city of crystal and pearl in the sky. To her foster mother the stupendous scene was merely a worthless waste, as to "Wordsworth's unspiritual wanderer : " A primrose by the river's brim, A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more." She was secretly pleased at Gretchen's wonder and surprise at the new country, but somehow she felt it her duty to talk queruh>usly, and to check the flow, of the girl's emotions, which she did much to 14 TnE LOG SCHOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. excite. Her own life liad been so circumscribed and liard tbat the day seemed to be too briglit to be speaking the truth. She peered into tlie sky for a cloud, but there was none, on this dazzling Oregon morning. The trail now opened for a long way before the eyes of the travelers. Far ahead gleamed the i)ellucid waters of the Colmnbia, or Oregon. Half-way between them and the broad, rolling river a dark, tall figure appeared. "Gretchen?" " What, mother ? " "Gretchen, look! There goes the Yankee schoolmaster. Came way out here over the mount- ains to teach the people of the wilderness, and all for nothing, too. That shows that people have souls — some people have. Walk right along beside me, proper-like. You needn't ever tell any one that I ain't your true mother. If I ain't ashamed of you, you needn't be ashamed of me. I wish that you were my own girl, now that you have said that you love me more than anybody else in the world. That remark kind o' touched me. I know that I some- times talk hard, but I mean well, and I have to tell you the plain truth so as to do my duty by you, and then I won't have anything to reflect upon. " Just look at him ! Straight as an arrow ! ORETCIIEN'S VIOLIN. 15 They say that his folks are rich. Come out here way over the mountains, and is just going to teacli scho(jl in a log school-house — all made of logs and sods and mud-plaster, adobe they call it — a graduate of Harvard College, too." A long, dark object appeared in the trees cov- ered with bark and moss. Behind these trees was a waterfall, over which hung the crowns of pines. The sunlight sifted through the odorous canopy, and fell upon the strange, dark object that lay across the branching limbs of two ancient trees. Gretchen stopped again. " Mother, what is that ? " " A grave — an Indian grave." The Indians bury their dead in the trees out here, or used to do so. A brown hawk arose from the mossy coffin and winged its way wildly into the sunny heights of the air. It had made its nest on the covering of the body. These jiew scenes were all very strange to the young Ger- man girl. The trail was bordered with young ferns ; wild violets lay in beds of purple along the running streams, and the mountain phlox with its kindling buds carpeted the shelving ways under the murmur- ing pines. The woman and girl came at last to a 10 THE LOO SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON TUE COLUMBIA. V ild, open space ; before them rolled tlie Oregon, beyond It ntretched a great treeless plain, and over it towered a gigantic mountain, in whose crown, like a jewel, .shone a resplendent glacier. Just before them, on the bluffs of the river, under three gigantic evergreens, each of which was more than two hundred feet high, stood an odd structure of logs and sods, which the builders called the Sod School-house. It was not a sod school- liouse in the sense in which the term has been aj)- plicd to more recent structures in the treeless prairie districts of certain mid-ocean Sttites ; it was rudely framed of pine, and was furnished with a pine desk and benches. Along the river lay a ]->latcau full of flowers, birds, and butterflies, and over the great river and flowering plain the clear air glimmered. Like some sun-god's abode in the shadow of ages, St. Helens still lifted her silver tents in the far sky. Eagles and mountain birds wheeled, shrieking joyously, here and there. Below the bluffs the silent salmon-fish- ers awaited their prey, and dow^n the river M'ith pad- dles apeak drifted the bark canoes of Cayuses and Umatillas. A group of children were gathered abont the open door of the new school-honse, and among them •s ^ 5 5 GIIKTCIIEN'S VIOLIN. 17 rose the tall form of ^^Farlowc ^rann, the Yankee Kchoolinaster. lie had come over the mouiitaius 8omo years before in the early exjK'ditions or«j;anized and di- rected by Dr. ^larcuK Whitman, of the American l>oard of Missions. AVhether the misHion to the Cayuses and "NVallu AVallas, which Dr. AVhitnian established on the bend of the Cohnnbia, was then regarded as a home or foreign field of work, we can not say. The doctor's .'Solitary ride of fonr thon- sfmd miles, in order to save the great Korthwest territory to the United States, is one of the most poeti(! and dramatic episodes of American history. It has ])roved to be worth to onr country more than all the money that has been given to missionary enterprises. Shonld the Pnget Sound cities ])ec(»me the great ports of Asia, and the ships of commerce drift from Seattle and Tacoma over the Japan cur- rent to the Flowery Isles and China; should the lumber, coal, minerals, and wheat-fields of "Washing- ton, Oregon, Montana, and Idaho at last compel these cities to rival New York and Boston, the populous empire will owe to the patriotic mission- ary zeal of Dr. AVhitman a debt M'hicli it can only pay in honor and love. Dr. "Whitman was mur- dered by the Indians soon after the settlement of 18 TITK LOO SCnOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. tho "Walla Walla country by the pioneers from the Eastern States. Mr. Mann'H inspiration to hoconu' i: missionary pioneer on tho Oregon had been derived from a lioston schoolmaster whose name also the North- west should honor. An inspired soul with a proph- et's vision usually goes before the great movements of life; solitary men summon the march of prog- ress, then decrease while others increase. Hall J. Kelley was a teacher of the olden time, well known in lioston almost a century ago. lie became pos- sessed with the idea that Oregon was destined to become a great empire. He collected all possible information about the territory, and organized emi- gration schemes, the first of which started from St. Louis in 1828, and failed. He talked of Oregon continually. The subject haunted liim day and night. It was he who inspired Rev. Jason Lee, the pioneer of the Willamette Valley. Lee inter- ested Senator Linn, of ]\Iissouri, in Oregon, and this senator, on December 11, 1838, introduced the bill into Congress which organized the Territory. Some of the richly endowed new schools of Oregon would honor history by a monumental rec- ognition of the name of Hall J. Kelley, the old schoolmaster, whose dreams were of the Columbia, ORBTCIIEN'S VIOLIN. 19 iind wlio inspired some of Lis pupils to hccomc reso- lute pioneers, lioston wjus always a friend to Wash- ington and Oregon. Where the old eehoolinaster now rests wo do not know. J'rohahly in a neg- lected grave amid the hriers and mosses of some old cemetery on the Atlantic coast. When ]\rarlowc Miinn came to the Northwest ho found the Indian tribes uiupiiet and suspicious of tlio new settlements. One of the pioneers liad caused a sickness among some thievish Indians hy putting emetic ])oisou in watermelons. The Indians helleved these melons to have been conjured by the wiiite doctor, and when other sicikness catnc among tliem, they attributed it to the same cause. The massacre at Waiilaptu and the murder of Wliitman grew in part out of these events. Mr. Mann settled near the old Chief of the Cas- cades. He sought thii Indian friendship of this chief, and asked him for his protection. " People fullill the expectation of the tnist put in tliem— Indians as well as children," he used to say. "A boy fulfills the ideals of his mother— what the mother believes the boy will be, that he will become. Treat a thief as though he were hon- est, and he will be honest with you. We help peo- ple to be better by behoving in what is good in 20 THE LOG SCIIOOI^IIOUSE ON THE COLUMHIA. tlicMn. I am going to trust tho frieiulHliip of tlio old ('liief «)f tlie CaHcaclcs, and ho will novor bc- tniy it." It was Kinniner, and there wiw to he a great In- dian Putlatch feartt under the autinnn moon. The I'otlateh in a fea«t of giftH. It is unually a peaceful gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances ; hut it bodes war and nuissacre and danger if it end with the dance of the evil spirits, or the devil dance, as it has been known — a dance which the Englisli Government has recently for- bidden among the Northwestern tribes. The Indians were demanding tliat the great fall Potlatch should end with this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of bloos in his early years. There 28 THE LOG SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUxMBIA. was an eiitliusiasm for missions in the churclius of Boston then, and he began to dream of Oregon and the mysterious empire of the great Northwest, as pictured by the old selioohnaster, Kelley ; just at this time came Dr. Whitnum to the East, half frozen from his long ride, and asked to lead au emigration to Walla Walla, to save the Northern empire to the territory of the States. He heard the doctor's thrilling story of how he had unfurled the flag over the open Bible on the crags that looked down on the valleys of the Oregon, and his resolution was made. He did not follow Dr. Whit- man on the first expedition of colonists, but joined him a year or two afterward. He built him a log- cabin on the Columbia, and gave his whole soul to teaching, missionary work among the Indians, and to bringing emigrants from the East. The country thrilled him — its magnificent scen- ery, the grandeur of the Columbia, the vastness of the territory, and the fertility of the soil. Here were mountains grander than OljTiipus, and harbors and water-courses as wonderful as the ^o-ean. He was almost afraid to map the truth in his extensive correspondence with the East, lest it should seem so incredible as to defeat his purpose. When the log school-house was building, Mr. ^ THE CHIEF OP THK CASCADES. 29 Mann Imd gone to the old Chief of tlio Ciisctules and had invited him to send his Indian hoy to the school, lie had shown him what an advantage it would be to the young chief to understand more thoroughly Chinook and English, lie was wise and j)olitic in the matter as well as large-hearted, for he felt that the school might need the friendli- ness of the old chief, and in no way could it be better secured. " The world treats you as you treat the world," he said ; "• and what you are to the world, the world is to you. Tell me only what kind of a neighbor- hood you come from, and I will tell you what kind of a neighborhood you are going to ; we all see the world in ourselves. I will educate the boy, and his father will protect the school. The Indian heart is hot and revengeful, but it is honest and true. I intend to be honest with the Indians in all things, and if there should occur a dance of the evil spirits at the Potlatch, no harm will ever come to the log school -house; and I do not believe that such a dance with evil intent to the settlers will ever take place. Human nature is all one book everywhere." As he stood there that morning, with uncovered head, an unexpected event happened. The children suddenly said : 30 TIIR LOO SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA " Look 1 " and " Umatilla ! " Out of tlio forcHt wuno an aged Indian, of gi- gantic Ktuturu — Umatilla, one of the chiefs of tlie Ca.s(^ade.s ; and bchside him walked his only son, tlio IJght of the Eagle's Tlunie, or, as lie had been named by the English, lien jamin. Umatilla, like Massasoit, of tlie early colonial liist(M*y of IMymouth, was a remarkable person. Surrounded by warlike tribes, lie liad been a man of peace. He was a lover of Nature, and every shining cloud to Ids eye was a chariot. He per- soniiied everything, like the ancient (ireeks. He talked in ])()etic figures; to him the sky was alive, every event liad a soul, and his mind had dwelt npon the great truths of Nature until he had be- come more of a philosoj)her than a ruler. He liad been the father of a large family, but six of his sons had died of the plagne, or rather of the treatment which tlie medicine-men liad nsed in the disease, which was to sweat the victims in hot earthen ovens, and then plunge them into the Co- lumbia. His whole heart in his old age was fixed upon his only son, Benjamin. The two were seldom separated. To make the boy happy was the end of the old chiefs life. TIIK ClIIKF OF TIIK CASCADES. 81 Tlic two ji^jproiiclit'd tlio courtly schoolmaster. *' White master," said the old chief, "I have l)roii«,dit to you the Lij^ht (»f the Eaj^le's Plume, lie is my heart, and will he the lieart of my [)eo|)le when mv suns are all jjassed over and my stars gone out. AVill you tea<'h him to he a good chiefs I want him to know English, and how to worship the ^[aster of Life. Will you take him to your school lodge ?" The tall master bowed low, and took the Indian boy by the hand. The boy was a princely youth. His figure would have held the eye of a scul[)tor in long ad- miration. The chisel of a Phidias could hardly have exceeded such a form. His features were like the Koman, his eye quick and lustnnis, and his lips noble and kindly, lie wore a blanket over his shoulders, gathered in a long sash, ornamented with shells, about bis loins, and a crest of eagle plumes and shells on his head indicated his rank and dignity. He could speak some words of Chi- nook, and English imperfectly. He had mingled much with the officers of the Hudson I>ay Com- pany, and so Imd learned many of the customs of civilization. " I am honored," said the courtly, tall school- 32 THE LOO SCIIOOL-nOUSE ON TIIK COLUMniA. muHter, " in Imviii'^ kucIi u youth for my [ni[n\. (Jliiof of tlui IJiimtilluH, I tlumk tlufc. All tluit in good in 1110 will I give to your noble boy. I live with my eye upon the future; the work of my life irt to lend j)eoi)le to follow their better natures and to bo true to their best selves. There is a good angel in all men here" — he put his luind on liis heart — " it leads men away from evil ; it seeks the way of life ; its end is yonder with the Inlinite. Chief of the ITmatillas, I will try to tcacli the young man to follow it. Do you understand ? " Tho aged chief bowed. lie euught the meaning of tho thouglit, if not of the rather formal words. lie comprehended the idea that the tall school- nuister believed goodness to be immortal. Tho regions of the Cascades w'cre indeed beautiful with their ancient forests and gleaming mountain walls, but he had been taught to believe that tho great Master of Life had provided eternal scenes that transcended these for tlioso who were worthy to receive them. An unexpected turn camo to this stately and pacific interview\ Mrs. Woods was piqued at tho deference that the tall schoolmaster had shown to tho chief and his son. She walked about restlessly, cut a rod from one of the trees with a large knife TIIK C'HIKF OF TIIK CASCADRS. 83 which hIio always carried witli her, and at lust called the iiuiHter aside a^niiii. "Say, mister, hero. You ain't g<>in^ t«> tako that y(»un^ Injun into your school, arc you? There'll he trouhle, now, if you do. Know Injuns — you don't. You are youn^, hut 'tain't hest for you to eat all your apples green. I've always heen very particular ahout the company I keep, if T was born poor and have had to work hard, and never studied no foreign languages. I warn you!" She raised her voice, and I*enjaniin heard what she had said. He suspected her ill-will toward him from lier manner, hut lie com2)rehendtd the mean- ing of her last words. He at first looked puzzled and grieved, then suddenly liis thin 14ps were pressed together; the passion of anger was possessing him, soon to be fol- lowed by the purpose of revenge. Mrs. Woods saw that she had gone too far in • the matter, and that her spirit and meaning had been discovered by the son of the chief. TI e dan- ger to which she had exposed herself mrde her nervous. But she began to act on her old princi[)lo never to show fear in the presence of an Indian. " Here, mister, I must go now," she said, in a loud voice. "Take this rod, and govern your 34 THE LOG SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. Kcliool like a man. If I were a teacher, I'd make my scholars smart in more "svays than one." She hold out the rod to the master. There was a movement in tlie air like a flush. Benjamin, with noiseless feet, had sli^iped up he- liind her. He had conceived the idea that the offer of the rod somehow meant enmity to him. He seized the rod from behind the woman, and, sweep- ing it through the air, with kindled eye and glow- ing cheeks, wheeled before the master. " Boston tilicum, don't you dare ! " "Boston tilicum" was the Chinook for an American, and the Chinook or trade language had become common to all the tribes on the Columbia. The early American traders on the Northern Pa- cific coast were from Boston, He raised the rod aloft defiantly like a young champion, and presented a heroic figure, which excited the tremulous admiration and wonder of the little group. He then pointed it toward Mrs. Woods, and said contemptuously in Chinook : " Cloochman ! " (woman). The scene changed to the comical. Mrs. "Woods ' snatched off her broad sun-bonnet, revealing her gray hair, and assumed an apjiearance of defiance, though her heart was really trembling with fear. THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES, 85 " I ain't afraid of no Injuns," she said, " and I don't take any impudence from anybody. I've had to light the wliole world all my life, and I've always conquered. There — now — there ! " She whipped the rod out of the young Indian's hand. Benjamin's eyes blazed. " Closche nanitch " (look out), he said. " I am an Umatilla. Siwash (Indian) will remember. There are hawks in the sky." "Kamooks" (dog), returned Mrs. Woods, defi- antly. " Kamooks." She would have said "cultus" had she dared. " Cultus " is the most insulting word that can be applied to an Indian, and, when it is used, it invites the most deadly revenge. The word had come to her lips, but she had not the courage to invoke the consequences of such a taunt. But the young Indian further excited her. lie shook the rod at her, and her passion mastered her prudence. She struggled with herself, and was silent for a few moments. But, suddenly catching the young Indian's eye, which had in it a savage triumph, she exclaimed : " Cultus Umatilla—" The old chief stepped forward and lifted his hands. 8 36 THE LOG SCIIOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. "Pil-pil" (blood), said Benjamin. "There are liawks in the air — " " Be still ! " said the chief. " — they whet their beaks," continued Benjamin. " Potlatch I " The whole company were filled with excitement or terror. Gretchen trembled, and began to cry. Three Indians were seen coming down the trail, and the sight seemed to fill Benjamin with a mys- terious delight. Mrs. "Woods saw them with secret fear, and the master with apprehension. Several of the children began to cry, and there was a look of pain, terror, or distress on all the faces. Suddenly Gretchen stepped apart from the group and lifted to her shoulder her violin. A hunting strain rose on the bright morning air. It seemed like the flight of a singing bird. The chief's arms dropped. The music arose like a sweet memory of all that is good and beautiful. The three Indians stopped to listen. The music became more sweet and entrancing. The anger went out of Benjamin's face, and there came better fee. 'ngs into his soul. The music breathed of the Ehine, of \dneyard8 and festivals, but he understood it not ; to him it recalled tlie mysterious legends of the Umatillas, TnE CUIEF OF THE CASCADES. 87 the mysteries of life, and the glory of the heroes who slept on the island of the dead or amid the sweetly sighing branches of the trees. Tlie air was the Traimierei. When the music ceased there w^as a long silence. In it Mrs. Woods turned away slowly, with a word of advice to Gretchen that under other circiun- stances would have appeared amusing : "Behave yourself like a lady," she said, "and remember your bringing up. Good-morning to ye all." The little group watched her as she moved safely away. A little black bear crossed her path as she was entering the wood, and stopped on the way. But her steps were growing rapid, and, as she did not seem to regard him as a matter of any consequence, he turned and ran. The company smiled, and so the peril of the morning seemed to pass away. The scene would have been comical but for the painful look in the kindly face of the old Chief of the Cascades. lie had come toward the school- house with high hopes, and what had happened caused him pain. The word " Potlatch," spoken by the Indian boy, liad caused his brow to cloud and his face to turn dark. 38 THE LOG SCIIOOL-riOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. " We will all go into the house," said the mas- ter. " Umatilla, will you not honor us with a visit this morning?" " No— me come this afternoon for the boy ; me wait for him outside. Boston tilicuni, let me speak to you a little. I am a father." " Yes, and a good father." " I am a father — you no understand — Boston tilicum — father. I want you to teach him like a father — not you understand ? " " Yes, I understand." " Father — teacher — you, Boston tilicum." "Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin." " I die some day. You understand ? " " Yes, I understand." "You understand, Boston tilicum, you under- stand. "Wliat I want my boy to become that I am for my boy. That you be." " Yes, Umatilla, I believe an Indian's word — you may trust mine. I will be to your boy what you may have him become. The Indian is true to his friends. I believe in you. I will be true." The old chief drew his blanket round him proudly. THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES. 89 " Boston tiliciiin," said lie, " If ever tlie day of trouble comes, I will protect you and the log school-house. You may trust my word. Indian speak true.-' The tall schoolmaster bowed. " Nika atte cepa " (I like you much), said the chief. " Totlatch shall no harm you. Klahyam klahhye — am ! " (Good-by). Mrs. Woods hurried homeward and tried to calm her excited mind by singing a very heroic old hymn : " Come on, my partners In distress, My comnules in the wilderness. Who still your bodies feel." The blue skies gleamed before her, and over- head wheeled a golden eagle. To lier it was an emblem, a good omen, and lier spirit became quiet and happy amid all the contradictions of her rough life. She sat down at last on the log before her door, with the somewhat strange remark : " I do hate Injims ; nevertheless — " Mrs. "Woods wafj accustomed to correct the wrong tendencies of her heart and tongue by this word " nevertheless," which she used as an incom- plete sentence. This " nevertheless " seemed to ex- press her better self ; to correct the rude tendencies 40 THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. of her nature. Had she heen educated in her oarly days, this tendency to self-correction would liave made her an ideal woman, but she owed nearly all lier intellectual training to the sermons of the Kev. Jason Lee, which she had heard in some obscure corner of a room, or in Methodist chapel, or under the trees. Her early ex])erience with the Indians had not made her a friend to the native races, notwithstand- ing the missionary labors of the Kev. Jason Lee. The first Indian that made her a visit on the dona- tion claim did not leave a favorable impression on her mind. This Indian had come to her door while she was engaged in the very hard work of sawing wood. He had never seen a saw before, and, as it seemed to him to be a part of the woman lierself, he approached her with awe and wonder. That the saw should eat through the wood appeared to him a veritable miracle. Mrs. Woods, unaware of her visitor, paused to take breath, looked up, beheld the tall form with staring eyes, and started back. " Medicine-woman — conjure ! " said the Indian, in Chinook. Mrs. Woods was filled with terror, but a mo- TOE CniEP OP THE CASCADES. 41 ment's thought recalled her resolution. She lifted her hand, and, ])ointing to the saw in the wood, she said, with a coinnuinding tone : " Saw ! " The Indian obeyed awkwardly, and wondering at the progress of the teeth of the saw through the wood. It was a hot day ; the poor Indian soon became tired, and stoi)ped work with a beating heart and bursting veins. " Saw — saw ! " said Mrs. "Woods, with a sweep of her hands, as though some mysterious fate de- pended n])on the order. The saw went very hard now, for he did not know how to use it, and the wood was hard, and the Indian's only thought seemed to be how to escape. Mrs. Woods held him in her power by a kind of mental magnetism, like that which Queen Margaret exercised over the robber. " "Water ! " at last gasped the Indian. " Saw — saw ! " said Mrs. "Woods ; then turned away to bring him water. "Wlien she looked around again, an unexpected sight met her eyes. The Indian was flying away, taking the saw with him. She never beheld either again, and it was a long time before any Indian appeared at the clearing after this odd event, 42 THE LOO SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. tliough Mrs. Woods ultimately had many advent- ures among the wandering Siwashes. A saw was no connnon loss in these times of but few mechanical implements in Oregon, and Mrs. Woods did not soon forgive the Indian for taking away what he probably regarded as an in- strument of torture. " I do hate Injuns ! " she would often say ; but quite likely would soon after be heard singing one of the hymns of the missionaries at the Dalles : " O'er Columbia's wide-spread forests Haste, ye heralds of the Lamb ; Teach the red man, wildly roaming, Faith in Imraanuel's name," which, if poor poetry, was very inspiring. CHAPTER III. BOSTON TILICUM. Marlowe Mann — " Boston tilicum," as tlie Si- waslies called all the iiiissionaries, teachers, and traders from the East — sat down upon a bench of split log and leaned upon his desk, which consisted of two split logs in a rongli frame. A curious school confronted him. His pupils numbered fif- teen, representing Germany, England, Sweden, New England, and the Indian race. " The world will some day come to the Yankee schoolmaster," he used to say to the bowery halls of old Cambridge ; and this prophecy, whicli had come to him on the banks of the Charles, seemed indeed to be beginning to be fulfilled on the Co- lumbia. He opened the school in the same serene and scholarly manner as he would have done in a school in Cambridge. " He is not a true gentleman who is not one 44 THE LOO SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. iiiider all coiulitions and circumstances," was one of his views of a well-clothed character ; and this nioniinii^ he addressed the school with the courtesy of an old college professor. "I have como here," he said, "with but one purpose, and that is to try to teach you things which will do you the most good in life. That is always the best which will do the most good ; all else is inferior. I shall first teacli you to obey your sense of right in all tilings. This is the first prin- ciple of a true education. You will always know the way of life if you have this principle for your guide. "Conscience is the first education. A man's spiritual nature is his highest nature, and his spir- itual concerns transcend all others. If a man is spiritually right, he is the master of all things. I would impress these truths on your minds, and teacli them at the beginning. I have become will- ing to be poor, and to walk life's ways alone. The })ilot of the Argo never returned from Colchis, but the Argo itself returned with the Golden Fleece. It may be so with my work ; if so, I wnll be con- tent. I have selected for our Scripture lesson the ' incorruptible seed.' " He rose and 6]3oke like one before an august BOSTON TILICUM. 45 ft8soml)ly; and so it was to liiin, with liis views of tlio I'uturo of the j^reat empire of the Northwest. A part of the pupils could not comprehend all that ho said any more than they had understood the allusion to the pilot of the Argo ; hut his manner was so gracious, so earnest, so ins[)ired, that they all felt tlie spirit of it, and some had come to re- gard themselves as the students of some greai: des- tiny. " Older domes than the pyramids are looking down upon you," he said, " and you are horn to a higher destiny than were ever the children of the Pharaohs." With the exception of Grctchcn, not one of the pupils fully understood the picturesque allusion. Like the reference to the pilot of the Argo, it was poetic mystery to them ; and yet it filled them witli a noble curiosity to know much and a desire to study hard, and to live hopefully and worthily. Like the outline of some unknown mountain range, it allured them to higher outlooks and wider dis- tances. " He talked to us so grandly," said Gretchen to Mrs. Woods one evening, " that I did not know half that he was saying ; but it made me feel that I might be somebody, and I do intend to be. It 40 THE LOO SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUAIBLV. is a ^(K)(l thing to luivc a teaclier witli great ex- j)ectatioiiH." " Yes," said Mrs. Woods, " wlien tlicrc is so little to expect. IVojde don't take a lot (»f nothing and make a heap of Honiething in thiH world. It is all like a lot of feathers thrown againist the wind. Neverthelem it makes one happier to have pros- jiccts, if they are far away. I used to ; hut tliey never came to nothing, unless it was to bring me way out here." The log school-house was a curious place. The cliildrcn's benches consisted of sj)lit logs on pegs, without backs. The sides of the building were logs and sods, and the roof was constructed of logs and pine boughs. All of the children were bare- footed, and several had but poor and scanty clothing. Yet the very simplicity of the place had a charm. Benjamin sat alone, apart from the rest. It was plain to be seen that he was brooding over the painful event of the morning. Gretchen had grown cheerful again, but the bitter expression on the young Indian's face seemed to deepen in intensity. Mr. Mann saw it. To quiet his agitation, he began his teaching by going to him and sitting down beside him on the rude bench and opening to him the primer. BOSTON TILICUM. 47 "You underfituiul Kn«^lisli T' wii wah-wah. She no good. Potlatch come ; dance. She wah-wah no more. I wah-wah." Mr. IMann was pained to see the revengeful BOSTON TILICUM. 49 trend of the Indian's tlioiight. Tlie liints of the evil intention of tlie Potlatch troubled him, but his faith in the old chief and the influence of liis own integrity did not falter. Gretchen was the most advanced scholar in the school. Her real mother had been an accomplished woman, and had taken great pains with her educa- tion. She was well instructed in the English branches, and had read five books of Virgil in Latin. Iler reading had not been extensive, but it had embraced some of the best books in the Enc:- lish language. Her musical education had been received from a German uncle, who had been in- structed by Ilerr "Wieck, the father of Clara Schu- mann. He had been a great lover of Schumann's dreamy and spiritual music, and had taught her the young composer's pieces for children, and among them Romance and the Traumerei. He had taught her to play the two tone poems together in chang- ing keys, beginning with the Traumerei and return- ing again to its beautiful and haunting strains. Gretchen interpreted these poems with all the color of true feeling, and under her bow they became enchantment to a musical ear and a delight to even as unmusical a soul as Mrs. Woods. Gretchen's chief literary pleasure had been the 50 THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. study of the German poetR. She had a poetic mind, and had learned to produce good rhymes. The songs of Uhland, Heine, and Schiller delighted her She had loved to read the strange stories of Hoffman, and the imaginative works of Baron Fouqu^. She used to aspire to be an author or poet, but these aspirations had received no counte- nance from Mrs. Woods, and yet the latter seemed rather proud to regard her ward as possessing a superior order of mind. " If there is anything that I do despise," Mrs. "Woods used to say, " it is books spun out of the air> all about nothin' ! Dreams were made for sleep, and the day was made for work. I haven't much to be proud of in this world. I've always been a terror to lazy people and to Injuns, and if any one were to write my life they'd have some pretty stir- ring stories to tell. I have no doubt that I was made for something." Although Mrs. Woods boasted that she was a terror to Indians, she had been very apprehensive of danger sinco the Wliitman colony massacre. She talked bravely and acted bravely according to her view of moral courage, but with a fearful heart. She dreaded the approaching Potlatch, and the frenzy that calls for dark deeds if the dance of BOSTON TILICUM. 51 the evil is})irits should conclude the approaching There was a sullen look in Benjamin's face as lie silently took his seat in the log school-house the next morning. Mr. Mann saw it, and instinctively felt the dark and mysterious atmosphere of it He went to him innnediately after the opening exer- cises, and said : " You haven't spoken to me this morning ; what troubles you ? " The boy's face met the sympathetic eye of the master, and he said : " I was happy on the morning M'hen I came — sun ; f^/te hate Indian, talk against him to you ; make me unhappy — shade ; think I will have my reviiiv^G—jnl-j}/! / then music nuike me hajipy ; you make mc happy ; night come, and I think of her — she hate Indian — shade. Mo will have my revenge — -pil-pil. She say I have no right here ; she have no right here ; the land all belong to Uma- tilla ; then to me ; I no have her liere. Look out for the October moon — Potlatch — dance— ^;//-/>^7." " I will be a friend to you, Benjamin." "Yes, Boston tilicum, we will be friends." "And I will teach you how to be noble — like a king. You felt good when I was kind to you ? " 52 THE LOG SCllOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. " Yes, Boston tilicuni." " And wlien the music played ?" " Yes, Boston tilicuni." " Then you nuist be good to her ; that will nuike her feel good toward you. Do you see i " There came a painful look into the younj^ In- dian's face. '' I good to her, make her good i She good to me make nie good ? She no good to me. She say I no right here. The land belong to Umatilla. She must go. You stay. Look out for the October moon. She wah-wah no more." " It is nol)le to l)e good ; it makes others good." " Then why isn't she good ? She make me ugly ; you make me good. I think I will punish her — -jnl-j)U • then you speak kind, and the music play, then I think I will punish her not. Then dark thoughts come back again ; clouds come again ; hawks fly. AVhat me do ? IMe am two selves ; one self when I think of you, one when I think of her. She say I have no right. She have no right. All right after Potlatch. I wah-wah; she wah-wah no more." " Be good yourself, Benjamin. Be kind to her ; make her kind. You do right." The young Indian hesitated, then answered : BObTON TILICUM. 53 " I do as you say. You are friciRl. 1*11 do as I feel when the music play. I try. So you say." The cloud passed. The teacher paid the In- dian boy S2)ecial attention that morning. At noon Gretchen played Yon "VVeljer's Wild Hunt of Lutzow, which drove Xapoleon over the llhine. The rhythm of the music picturing the heroic cav- alry enchanted Benjamin, and he said : " Play it over again." After the music came a foot-race among the boys, which Benjamin easily won. The afternoon passed quietly, until in the cool, length- ening shadows of the trail the resolute form of Mrs. lYoods appeared. Benjamin saw her, and his calm mood fled. He looked up at the master. " I is come back again — my old self again. She say I no business here ; she no business here. She wall-wall." The master laid his hand on the boy's slujulder kindly and bent his face on his. " I do as you say," the boy continued. " I will not speak till my good self come again. I be still. No wall-wall." He dropped his eyes ujion a page in the book, and sat immovable. He was a noble picture of a 54 THE LOQ SCIIOOL-UOUSE ON THE COLUiMBIA. Htruggle for self-control in a savage and untutored heart. IVrrs. Woods asked for (iretelien at the door, and the master excused the girl, thanking lier for the music that had (! "lighted the school at the noon- hour. As she was turning to go, Mrs. Woods cast a glance toward IJenjamin, and said to the master in an midertone : " He's tame now — quiet as a pur- ring cat. The cat don't lick cream when the folks are around. But he'll make trouble yet. An In- jun is a Injun. I hate Injuns, though Parson Lee says I am all wrong. When you have seen as many of 'em as I have, you'll know more than you do now." Benjamin did not comprehend the words, but he felt that the woman had said something injurious to him. The suspicion cut him to the quick. His black eye sparkled antl his cheek burned. The scholars all seemed to be sorry at the impression that Mrs. Woods's muttered words had left in his mind. He had struggled for two days to do his best — to follow his best self. School closed. Benjamin rose like a statue. He stood silent for a time and looked at the slant- ing sun and the dreamy afternoon glories of the glaciers, then moved silently out of the door. The BOSTON TILICUM. 55 old chief met liiiii in tlie opening, and saw the hurt and tronhled look in his face. " What have you been doing to my boy i " he said to the master. Has he not been good ?" " Very good ; I like liim,'' said Mr. IVfann. " lie is trying to be good here," pointing to his heart. " The good in him will grow. I will help him." The old chief and the boy walked away slowly out of the shadows of the great trees and np the cool trail. The tall master followed them with his eye. In the departing forms lie saw a picture of the disappearing race. He knew history well, and how it would repeat itself on the great plateau and amid the giant forests of the Oregon. He felt that the old man waa probably one of the hist great chiefs of the Umatillas. On one of the peninsulas of the Oregon, the so- called Islands of the Dead, the old warriors of the tribes were being gatliered by the plagues that had come to the territories and tribal regions ever since the Hudson Bay Company established its posts on tlie west of the mountains, and Astoria had l)een planted on the great river, and settlers had gathered in the mountain-domed valley of the Willamette. Wlierever the white sail went in the glorious riv- 50 THE LOO SCIIOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMIHA. ers, pestilencu eiiine to tlio native tribes. The In- dian race \vm perceptibly vanishin*!^. Only one son of Beven was left to Umatilla. AVliat would be tlie fate of this boy ? The master went home troubled over the event of the afternoon. He was asking the Indian to be better than his opponent, and she was a well-mean- ing woman and nominally a Christian. His lirst thought was to go to ]\[rs. AVoods and ask her to wlujlly change her sj)irit and manners, and, in fact, preacli to her the same simple doctrine of following only one's better self that he liad taught to the young prince. But he well knew that she had not a teachable mind. He resolved to try to reach the same result through Gretchen, whom she nj^braided with her tongue but loved in her heart. Mrs. Woods had come to regard it as her aj)- pointed mission to abuse people for their good. She thought it tended toward their sj^iritual prog- ress and development. She often said that she felt " called to set things right, and not let two or three peo])le have their own way in everything " — a view of life not nncommon among peoj^le of larger op- portunities and better education. Benjamin came to school the next morning si- BOSTON TILICUM. 57 lout iiiid sullon, and the master went to hlni ai^ain in the same H})irit as before. " Slie say I no ri<;ht here," he said. " She suf- fer for it. Slie wah-wah. Look out fur the Octo- ber moon." " No, you are a better Indian now." " Yes ; sometimes." "The better Indian harms no one — one's good self never does evil. You are to be your good self, and please me." The young Indian was silent for a time. lie at last said, slowly : " But me know who will." " Do what, Benjamin ? " " Make her sulfer — punish." "Who?" " I know a bad Indian who will. He say so." " You must not let him. You are son of a chief." " I will try. I no wah-wali now." At noon Benjamin was light-hearted, and led the sports and games. He was very strong, and one of his lively feats was to let three or four chil- dren clind) upon his l)ack and run away with them until they tumbled off. He seemed perfectly bappy when be was making the others hap])y, and nothing 58 THE LOa SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. so delighted him as to be coiimiuiided. llo loii<^ud to bo popular, not from any sellitih reatjoii, l)Ut because to be liked by otliers was bis atmospliere of contentment. lie was kindly above most In- dians, a trait for which his father was famous. lie was even kindly ai)ove many of the white people. The next morniii," Buid the boy on liis roturn ; and tlio si)irit of tlie iiicidt'ut wna good and ediu'iitionid in the liuirts of tlie scliool. Tho I'luirni of hi.s life was (fretchen'H violin. It tran8ii«!;ured him ; it changed the world to him. Ilis father was a forest philosopher; the boy caught a like 8i)irit, and often said things that were a reve- lation to A[r. IVIann. " Why do you like the violin so much ? " said the latter to him one day. " It brings to me the thing longed for— the thing I long to know." ^' Why, what is that?" "I can't tell it— I feel it here— I fiense it— I shall know — something better— yonder— the thing we lone for, but do not know. Don't you long for it? Don't you feel it?" The tall schoolmaster said "Yes," and was thoughtful. The po(M' Indian had tried to express that something beyond his self of which he could only now have a dim conception, and about which even science is dumb. i\[r. Mann understood it, but he could hardly have expressed it better. The boy learned the alphabet quickly, and began to demand constant attention in his eagerness to learn. Mr. Mann found that die was giving more 00 THE LOO SCIIOOI^IIOl'SE ON THE COLUMniA. than the ullottcd time to liini. Tu nieet tlie case, ho appointed from time to time members of tlie M'ljool " monitors," a.H he called ^'lem, to sit beside liim and lielp liim. One ok for liim, and the rest of the scholars dispersed to their homes. Tliat evening, after a long, vivid twilight, such as throws its splendor over the mountain ranges in these northern latitudes, l^Frs. "Woods and Gretchen were sitting in their log-house just within the open door. Mr. "Woods was at the block-house at AValla "Walla, and the cabin was unprotected. The light was fading in the tall pines of the valleys, and there M'as a deep silence everywhere, undisturbed by so nmcli as a whisper of the Chinook winds. Mrs. AVoods's thoughts seemed far away — (hjubtless among the old meadows, orchards, and farm-iields 62 THE LOG SCHOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. of New England. Gretclieii was playing the musi- cal glasses. Suddenly IVIrs. AVoods's thoughts came back from their far-away journeys. 8he had seen something that disturbed her. She sat peering into a tract of trees which were some three hundred feet high — one of the great tree cathedrals of the Korth west- ern forests. Suddenly she said : " Gretchen, there are Injuns in the pines. Watch ! " Gretchen looked out, but saw nothing. The shadows deepened. " I have twice seen Injuns passing from tree to tree and hiding. Why are they f'.cre ? There — look ! " A sinewy form in the shadows of the pines ap- peared and disappeared. Gretchen saw it. " They mean evil, or they would not hide. Gretchen, what shall we do ? " Mrs. Woods closed the door and barred it, took dowTi the rifle from the side of the room, and looked out through a crevice in the split shutter. There was a silence for a time ; then Mrs. Woods moved and said : " They are coming toward the house, passing from one tree to another. They BOSTON TILICUM. 68 mean revenge — I feel it — revenge on nic, and Ben- jamin — lie is the leader of it." The Hitting of shadowy forms among the pines grew alarming. Xearer and nearer they came, and more and more excited became Mrs. Woods's ap- ]jrehensions. Gretchen began to cry, through nerv- ous excitement, and with the first rush of tears came to her, as usual, the thought of her violin. She took up the instrument, tuned it with nerv- ous fingers, and drew the l)ow across the strings, making them shriek as with pain, and then drifted into the air the music of the Traumerei. " Fiddling, Gretchen — fiddling in the shadow of death ? I don't know but what you are right — that tune, too ! " The music trembled ; the haunting strain quiv- ered, rose and descended, and was repeated over and over again. " There is no movement in the i)ines," said Mrs. "Woods. " It is growing darker. Play on. It does seem as though that strain was stolen from heaven to overcome evil with." Gretchen played. An hour passed, and the moon rose. Then she laid down the violin and listened. " Oh, Gretchen, he is coming ! I know that 04 THE LOG SCUOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. form. It is Benjaiuin. lie is coining alone. AVliat shall we do ? He is — right before the door ! " Gretchen's eye fell upon the musical glasses, which were among the few things that she had brought from the East and which had belonged to her old German home. She had tuned them early in the evening by pouring water into them, as she had been taught to do in her old German village, and she wet her fingers and touched them to the tender forest hymn : " Now the woods are all sleeping." " He has stopped," said Mrs. AVoods. " He is listening — play." The music filled the cabin. 'No tones can equal in sweetness the musical glasses, and the trembling nerves of Gretchen's fingers gave a spirit of pa- thetic pleading to the old German forest hymn. Over and over again she played the air, waiting for the word of Mrs. Woods to cease. " lie is going," said Mrs. AYoods, slowly. " He is moving back toward the pines. He has changed his mind, or has gone for his band. You may stop now." IMrs. "Woods watched by the split shutter until BOSTON TILICUM. 66 past midiiiglit. Then slie laid down on tlie bed, and Gretclien watched, and one listened while the other dept, by turns, during the night. But no footstep was heard. The niidsunnner sun l)lazed over the pines in the early morning ; l)irds sang gayly in the dewy air, and Gretelien prepared the morning meal as usual, then made her way to the log school-house. She found Benjamin there. lie met her with a happy face. " Bad Indian come to your cabin last night," said he. " He mean evil ; he hate old woman. She wall-wall too much, and he hate. Bad Indian hear music — violin ; he be pleased — evil hawks fly out of him. Good Indian come back. One is tied to the other. One no let the other go. "What was that low music I hear? Baby music! Chinook wind in the bushes! Quail— motlor-bird singing to her nest ! I love that nnisic. " Say, you play at Potlatch, frighten away the hawks ; mother-birds sing. Ts'o devil dance. Say, I have been good ; no harm old wah-wali. Will you — will you play — play that tin-tin at Potlatch under the bilo pupil t)f the herry dish, and Mrs. Woods was soon ahle to say : " Tliere it is, just as good as a kitten, and I would rather have it than to have a kitten. It belongs to these parts." Poor I^frs. AVoods! She soon found that her pet did " belong to these parts," and that its native instincts were strong, despite her moral training. Slie lost her bear in a most disappointing way, and after she supposed that it had become wholly de- voted to her. She had taught it to "roll over" for its din- ner, and it had grown to think that all the good things of this world came to bears by their willing- ness to roll over. AVhenever any member of the family appeared at the door, the cub would roll over like a ball, and expect to be fed, petted, and rewarded for the feat. "I taught it that," Mrs. Woods used to say. " I could teach it anything. It is just as know- ing as it is running, and lots of company for me out here in the mountains. It thinks more of me than of its old mother. You can educate any- thing." As the cub grew, Mrs. AVoods's attachment to MRS. WOODS'S TAMK IJKAll. 71 it increased. 81ie could not beiir to see its free- dom restrained by the strap and f«trin^, and so she untied the string from the log and let it drag it about during the day, only fastening it at night. " There is no danger of its running away," said she; "it thinks too much of me and the l)erry dish. I've tamed it comi»letely ; it's as faith- ful to its home as a liouse-cat, and a great deal more comi)anv than a cat or do«r or any other dunil> ani- mal. The nicest bird to tame is a blue-jay, and the best animal for company is a cub. I do believe that I could tame the whole race of bears if I oidy had 'em." IVIrs. Woods had a pet blue-jay that she had taken when voimo; from its nest, and it would do many comical things. It seemed to have a sense of humor, like a magi)ie, and to enjoy a theft like that bird. She finally gave it the freedom of the air, but it would return at her call for fol again for several davs, and when he came back it seemed to be with a sense of humiliation, lie seemed to feel somehow that he ought not to have fallen from the tree. The fourth of July came, and blaster ^Mann had invited the school to come togctlier on the holiday for patriotic exercises. lie had one of the pupils read the Declaration of TucK'pendence on the occasion, and Gretchen played the President's March on the violin. lie himself made an histori- cal address, and then joined in some games out of doors under the trees. lie brought to the school-house that day an Amer- ican flag, which he hung over the desk during the ex- ercises. "When the school went out to ])lay he said : " I wish I could hang the flag from a pole, or from the top of one of the trees." Benjamin's face brightened. " I will go," he said ; " I will go ?//?." " Hang it on the eagle's nest," said one of the jmpils. " The eagle is die national bird." 84 TIIK LOG SCIIOOL-IIOL'SK ON.THK COI.UMHIA. Mr. Miinii hiiw that to kiis]K'ii(1 tlie imtioiiiil om- l)lcMii from the t'Ugle'H nest would l»o u juitriotic cpisodo of the (lay, and liu ^avo the Ihig to IJeiija- iiiin, .saying : " IJeware of the rotten hmhs." "I no woman," said IJenjamin; and, waving the ilag, lie moved like a s(|iiii-rel up the trees. Jle placed the Hag on the nest, while the eagles wheeled around him, screaming wildly. He descended safely, and nuide the incident an ol)ject lesson, as Mr. Mann rej)eated the ode to the American eagle, found at that time in many readlng-l)ooks. While Mr. Mann was doing so, and had reached the line — " Bird of Columbia, well art thou," etc., one of the eagles swept down to the nest and seized the hauTier in Ids talons. lie rose again into tlu; air and circled high, then with a swift, strong curve of the wings, came down to the nest again, and, seizing the Hag, tore it from the nest and bore it aloft to the sky. It was a beautiful sight. The air was clear, the far peaks were sci-ene, and the glaciers of ]\[onnt Hood gleamed like a glory of crystallized light. The children cheered. The bird soared away in the blue lieavens, and the flag streamed after him in The emjle soared itintij in the liluv fieaietiK, und tin jlmi 4r<])earod upon it, and made a pretty j)icture as it sat eating in tlie sun, its head lialf covered with its bushy tail. Wliite squirrels were not conimun in the timber, and this was the only one that Mrs. "Woods had ever seen. " I wish that I could contrive to catch that there white scpiirrel," she said to Gretchen one day; "it would be a sight of company for me when you are gone. The bear used me mean, but I kind o' like all these little children of Natur'. But I don't want no Injuns, and no more bears unless he comes back again. The schoolmaster may like Injuns, and you may, but I don't. Think how I lost my saw ; Injun and all went off together. I can seem to see him now, goin'." As Mrs. AYoods drew near the fallen tree she looked for the white squirrel, which was not to be seen. Suddenly the bushes near the stump moved, and she saw the most evil-looking animal that she had ever met drawing back slowly toward the fallen tree. It was long, and seemed to move more like an immense serpent than an animal. It had a cat- like face, with small ears and s])iteful eyes, and a 88 THE LOU SCHOOL-HOUSE OX THE COLUMIMA. half-open mouth displaying a red tongue and sharp teeth. Its face was sly, malicious, cruel, and cow- ardly. It seemed to be such an animal as would attack one in the dark. It was nuich larjijer than a dog or connnon black bear. Mrs. "Woods raised her gun, but she thought that she was too far from the house to risk an en- counter with so powerful an animal. So she drew back slowly, and the animal did the same defiantly. She at last turned and ran to the house. "Gretchen," she said, "what do you tliiin. I have seen ? " " The white scjuirrel." " Ko ; a tiger ! " " But there are no tigers here ; so the chief said." " But I have just seen one, and it had the mean- est-looking face that I ever saw on any living creat- ure. It was all snarls. That animal is dangerous. I shall be almost afraid to be alone now." " I shall be afraid to go to school." " No, Gretchen, you needn't be afraid. Til go with you mornin's and carry the gun. I like to walk mornin's under the trees, the air does smell so sweet." That night, just as the last low tints of the long THE MOUNTAIN LION. 89 twilight had (lis}H)pc'iirt'd and tho cool, dowy airs began to move among the pines, a long, deep, fear- ful cry \va8 heard issuing from the tind)er. Mrs. "Woods started up from her bed and called, " Gret- chen ! " The girl had been awakened by the cry, which might have been that of a child of a giant in pain. " Did you hear that ? " asked ^Irs. Woods. " Let's get uj) and go out,"' said (4retchen. Presently the same long, clear, i)itia])le cry, as if some giant distress, was repeated. " It seems human," said Mrs. "Woods. " It makes me want to know what it is. Yes, let us get up and go out." The cry was indeed pleading and magnetic. It excited pity and curiosity. There was a strange, mysterious quality about it that drew one toward it. It was repeated a third time and then ceased. There was a family by the name of Bonney wIkj had taken a donated claim some miles from the Woodses on the Columbia. They had two boys who attended the school. Early the next morning one of these boys, named Arthur, came over to the "Woodses in great distress, with a fearful story. " Something," he said, " has killed all of uur yU THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMIHA. cattle. Tliey all lie dead near tlie eleariIl^^ just as though they were asleep. They are not injured, as we can see; they are not shot or hruised, nor do they seem to be poisoned — they are not swelled — they look as though they were alive — hut they are cold — they are just dead. Did you hear anything in the timber last night ( " " Yes," said Mrs. Woods. " Wasn't it mysteri- ous? Lost your cattle, boy ^ I am sorry for your folks. IMabbie {iVidy be) 'tis Injuns." " Xo ; father says that he can find no injury on them." " 'Tis awful mysterious like," said Mrs. Woods, " cattle dyin' M-ithout anything ailin' 'em ! Tve always thought this was a irood country, but I don't know. Tell your folks I'm sorry for 'em. Can I do anything for you ? I'll come oyer and see ye in the course of the day." That night the same strange, ^vild, pleading cry was repeated in the tind^er. " There's something yery strange about that sound," said Mrs. Woods. "It makes me feel as though I must run to^yard it. It dra\ys me. It makes me feel curi's. It has haunted me all day, and now it comes again." " Do you suppose that the cry has had anything THE MOUNTAIN LION. 91 to do witli tlio death of Mr. TJoiincv's cuttle?" asked (Jivtclieii. " I don't know — wo don't uiulerstand tliis conn- try fully yet. There's sonietliin<^ very mysterious about the death of those cattle. You ou;ij;ht to have seen 'em. They all lie there dead, as though they had just lost their hreath, and that was all." The next night was silent. Rut, on the follow- ing mt)rning, a hoy came to the school with a strange story. He had been driving home his fa- ther's cows on the evening before, when an animal had drop})ed from a great tree on the neck of one of the cows, which struggled and lowed for a few minutes, then fell, and was found di-ad. The boy and the other cattle had run away on tlie sud- den appearance of the animal. The dead cow ])re- sented the same aj)i)earance as the cows of ^Ir. Bonney had done, AVhen the old chief appeared at the school- house with Benjamin that morning, the school gathered around him and asked him M'hat these things eonld mean, lie re})lied, in broken Chinook, that there was a puma among tliem, and that this animal sucked the blood of its victims. The piima or cougar or panther, sometimes spelled painter, is the American lion. It is com- 92 THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. monly culled the inoimtiilii lion in the Northwest. It l)el(»ii<^s to the cat faiuily, and received the luuno of lion from its tawny color. "When its appetite for blood has been satislied, uiul its face is in repose, it is a very beautiful animal ; but M'hen seeking its prey it presents a mean, cowardly, etealthy ajjpear- ance, and its face is a picture of cruelty and evil. It will destroy as many as fifty sheep in a night, sucking their blood and leaving them as though they had died without any external injury. This terrible animal is easily tamed if captured young, and, strange to say, becomes one of the most affec- tionate and devoted of pets. It will j)urr about the feet and lick the hands of its master, and develop all the attractive characteristics of the domestic cat. " We must have a j^uma-hunt," said the chief, " now — right away." " Not to-day? " said the teacher. " Yes," said the chief, " now — he eat your children. Find boy dead some day, just like cow. He drop down from a tree on a papoose. Benja- min and I will go hunt." The two disappeared. For several days they did not return. But, one nu)rning, a party of Indians in hunting-gear came riding up to the school-house, full of gay spirits and heroic pride. 4 -'^-.f-i ■■■: ■^'i-'^- I I a THE MOUNTAIN LION. 93 Behind tlioin mine tlio oM cliicf on foot, moving slowly, art though tirud, and with hini was Honja- niin. The Indian boy had a hrown skin of an ani- mal on his nhoulder — a raw hide with very beauti- ful fur. The old chief came into the Fchool-room with an air of ])ride, and stood for a few minutes silent before the master. His face, though wrinkled, was really beautiful and noble, in the light of the happy intelligence that awaited communication. lie at last looked each pupil in the face and then said : " We have killed the puma. School no fear now." He took the skin of the animal from Benja- min's shoulder, and held it up before the eyes of all. "Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?" he said. " It was yon ? " asked the teacher. " No — not me, not me, no ! " " The l)rave8 ? " " Xo — not the ])'*aves. Xo." The old chief paused, and then saik the old chiefs hand that bright morning, as a i)arting sign of gratitude and good-will. He feh the innate brotlierhood of all human hearts, and returned to his desk hap])y in his calling and work ; and seeing that the natural rights of all men were secured ; and that the human heart has the same imjudses everywhere, as he had never seen these truths be- fore. That night Gretchen told the story of the puma to ]\Irs. "Woods, who had learned the leading incidents of it in the afternoon as she came to meet the girl in the trail, on the way from school. CHAPTER VII. THE SMOKE-TALK. One day in Sopteiiiher Mrs. Woods was at work in lier cabin, and Gretclien was at school. Mrs. Woods was trying to sing. She liad a liard, liarsli voice always, and the tune was a battle-cry. The hymn on which she was exercising her limited gifts was not one of the happy tunes of Methodism, which early settlers on the Columbia loved to .^ing. It was a very censorious rhyme and took a very do.-pondent view of the human heart : " The pure testimony poured forth from the Spirit Cuts like a two-edged sword ; And hypocrites now are most sorely toriiionted Because they're condenuied by the Word." She made the word ''l\ypocrites" ring through the solitary lo<«:-cabin — she seemed to have the view that a large population of the world were of this class of people. She paused in her singing and looked out of the door. OC THE LOG SCnOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. " Tlu.'ri''s one lionest woniiin alive," she re- marked to herself. " Thank Heaven, / never yet feared the faee of elaj ! " A tall, dark form met her eye — a great shadow in the seintillant smdight. It was an aged Indian, walidni:: witli a staff. He was eomini; toward the cabin. " Umatilla ! " she said. " AVhat ean he want of me ? " The old ehief approached, and bowed and sat down on a log that answered for a door-step. "I walk with a staff now," he said. "My bow has drifted away on the tide of years — it will never come back again. I am old." " Yon have been a good man," said Mrs. Woods, yielding to an impidse of her better natnre. She presently added, as though she had been too gener- ous, " And there aren't many good Injuns — nor wdiite folks either for that matter." " I have come to have a smoke-talk with you," said the old chief, taking out his pipe and asking Mrs. Woods to light it. " Listen ! I want to go home. When a child is weary, I take him by the hand and point liim to the smoke of his wigwam. He goes home and sleeps. I am weary. The Great Spirit has taken me by the hand ; he points to the TUE SMOKE-TALK. 97 smoke of the wigwiiin. Tliere comes a time wlieii all want to go home. I want to go home. l"ma- tilla is going home. I have not spoken.'' The smoke from his pipe curled over his white liead in the pure, clear Septcmher air. lie was eighty or more }'ears of age. lie had heard the traditions of Juaji de Fura, the Greek pilot, who left his name on the straits of the PuL;;et Sea. He had heard of the coming of Vancouver in his hov- hood, the English explorer who named the seas and mountains for his lieutenants and friends, Puget, Baker, lianier, and Townscnd. He had known the forest lords of the Hudson ]5av Com- pany, and of Astoria; had seen the sail of Gray as it entered the Columhia, and liad heard the ])reach- ing of Jason Lee. The nmrder of AVhitman had caused him real sorrow. Umatilla was a man of peace. lie had loved to travel np and d(»wn the Colund)ia, and visit the great bluffs of the l*uget Sea. lie lived for a generation at peace Avith all the tribes, and now that he was old he was -vipner- ated by them all. " You are a good old Injun," said IMrs. "Woods, yielding to her better self again. " I don't say it about many people. I do think you have doire your best — considering." 1)8 THE LOO SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. " I am ii(»t "vvliat I want to be," paid Uiiuitllla. " It is what we want to be that we sliall be one (hiy ; don't you think so? The Great Si>irit is going to make me wliat I want to be — he will make us all wliat we \vant to be. My desires are better than I — I will be my desires by and by. My stafl is in my hand, and I am going home. The old warriors liave gone home. They were thick as the flowers of the field, thick as the stars of the night. Mj Ixjys are gone home — they were swift as the hawks in the air. l>en jamin is left to the Umatillas. lie is no butcher-bird ; no forked tongue — he will re- member the shade of his father. My heart is in his heart. I am going home. I have fiot spoken." He puffed his ])ipe again, and watched an eagle skimming along on the great over-sea of September gold. The Indian language is always pictures(pic, and deals in synd)ols and figures of speech. It is j)icture-speaking. The Indians are all ])(^ets in their imaginations, like children. This habit of personification grows in the Indian mind with ad- vancing years. Every old Indian speaks in poetic figures. Umatilla had not yet " spoken," as he said ; he had been talking in figures, and merely approaching his subject. Tilt: SMOKE-TALK. 0<) There was a K)ii<^ pause. lie tlien laid duwii liis pipe. He was alK»iit to speak : " AV^onian, opvn your ears. The Great Spirit lives in w<»iueii, and ohl people, and little children. He loves the smoke of the wigwam, and the green fields of the flowers, and the hlue gardens of stars. And he loves music — it is his voice, the whis2)er of the soul. "He spoke in the pine-tops, on tlie lips of the seas, in the shell, in the reed and the war-drum. Then s/te came. He sj)eaks through /wr. I want /icr to speak for me. My people are angry. There are hutcher-hirds among them. They hate you — they hate the cabin of the Mhite man. The white men tidthe'*, don't you love t/ie Master, and won't you be friendly and forij^iving to llenjaniin, for /tin sake? 1 wish you would. It would give you ]H)wer ; I want you to do so." " ril think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Fatlier Lee. The boy has some good in him.'' " I wish you would tell him that." " Why ? " " Sympathy makes one grow so." "That's so, (Tretchen. Only praise a dog for his one good (piality, and it will make a good dog of him. I 'spect 'tis the same with folks. But my nature don't break up easy. I shall come out right some time. I tell you I'm goin' to have a talk with Father Lee. It is his preachin' that has made me what I am, and may be I'll be better by and by." Mrs. AVoods, with all her affected courage, had good reason to fear an Indian outbreak, and to use every influence to prevent it. The very mention of the Potlatch filled her with recent terror. She well knew the story of the destruction of AVhitman and a part of his missionary colony. THE SMOKE-TALK. 103 That was a torril)le event, and it was a seene like tlmt that tlio new settlers feared, at the aj)- ])r()aehing Potlatch; and the th(»nt' jK'is|iirii- ti(>n lie was let out, to K-ap int(» the cold waters df tlie C«>luiiil»ia. I'snally the pluiie and failed to cure, he forfeited his «»wn life. The killiiii^ of the inedicine-inan was one of thi' (Iramatic and fearful e])is(»(les of the Columbia. Keturninix from tlie Kast after his famous rist ruadiTs. I do not vouch for it, hut only Huy that thu niuTutor of the i)rinc'iiml incidents is un (dd Territorial jud^'e who lives near the jdaco of the Whitnum tni; " — he bent over, ojoening and folding his blanket. "Braves conjured; melon conjured — white man conjure. Indian kill him." There was a puzzled look <»n all faces. " Braves get well again," said the missionary, in- cautiously. " Then you Z7?o?r," said the Indian. " You know — vou coniure. ]\rake sick — make well I " lie drew his blanket again around him and strode away M'itli an injured look in his face, and vanished into the forests. " I am sorry for this joke," said the missionary ; " it bodes no good." Xovember came. The nights were long, and THE SMOKE-TALK. IQO there was a perceptible coolness in the air, even in this cliniiite of Aj)ril days. Joe Stantield, a half-breed Canadian and a mem- ber of AVliitniairs family, was observed to spend many of the lengthenin«j; evenini^s with the Ca- yuses in their lodges, lie had been given a home by "Whitman, to whom he had seemed for a time devoted. Joe Lewis, an Indian who had come to AVhit- man sick and half-elad, and had received shelter and work from him, seems to have been on intimate terms with Staniield, and the two l)eeame bitter enemies to the mission and sought to turn the Ca- yuses against it, contrary to all the traditions of In- dian gratitude. In these bright autumn days of 184-7 a great calamity fell upon the Indians of the Columbia. It was the plague. This disease was the terror of the Northwestern tribes. The Cayuses caught the infecti(m. Many sickened and died, and Whit- man was appealed to by the leading Indians to stay the disease. lie undertook the treatment of a num- ber of cases, but his patients died. The hunter's moon was now burning k)W in the skv. The o;atherinf>: of rich harvests of furs had begun, and British and American fur-traders were 110 THE LOG SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA. seeking these treasures on every hand. But at the beginning of these liarvests tlie Cajuses were sick- ening and dying, and the mission was powerless to stay tlie pestilence. A secret council of Cayuses and lialf-brecds was lield one night under the hunter's moon near AValla AValla, or else on the Umatilla. Five Crows, the warrior, Avas there with Joe Lewis, of Whitman's household, and Joe Stanlield, alike susjiicious and treacherous, and old Mungo, the interpreter. Sit- kas, a leading Indian, may have been present, as the story I am to give came in part from him. Joe Lewis was the principal speaker. Address- ing the Cayuses, he said : " The moon brightens ; your tents fill with furs. But Death, the robber, is among you. Who sends Death among you ? The White Chief (Whitman). And why does the White Chief send among you Death, the robber, with his poison ? That he may possess your furs." " Then why do the white people themselves have the disease ? " asked a Cayuse. Kone could answer. The question had turned Joe Lewis's word against him, when a tall Indian arose and spread his blanket open like a wing. He stood for a time silent, statuesque, and thoughtful. THE SMOKE-TALK. m The men waited seriously to lietir what he would say. It was the same Indian who had a})|)eared at the mission after the joke of the ])lugged melons. " Brothers, listen. The missionaries are eon^ jurers. They conjured the melons at AVaiilaptu. They made the melons siek. I went to missionary chief. He sav, ' I make the melons well.' I leave the braves sick, with their faces turned white, when I go to the chief. I return, and they are well again. The missi(jnaries conjure the melons, to save their gardens. They conjure you now, to get your furs." The evidence was conclusive to the Cavuse mind. The missionaries Avere conjurers. The comicil resolved that all the medicine-men in the comitry should be put to death, and among the first to perish v'^hould be "Whitman, the conjurer. Such in effect was the result of the secret coun- cil or councils held around Waiilaptu. "Whitman felt the change that had come over the disposition of the tribes, but he did not know what was hidden behind the dark curtain. His great soul was full of patriotic fire, of love t(» all men, and zeal for the gospel. He was nothing to himself — the cause was 112 TlIK LOO SCIlOOL-nOUSE ON THE COLU.MUIA. everything. lie rode liitlier tiiid tliitlier on the autuniii days and bright nights, engjiged in his great \V(jrk. He went to Oregon City for supplies. " Mr. MeKinley," he said to. a friend, '* a Ca- yuse cliief has told me that the Indians are al»ont to kill all the niedicine-nien, and myself among them. I think he was jesting." " Dr. Whitman," said MeKinley, " a Cayuse chief never jests." He was right. The fateful days wore on. The splendid nights glimmered over ]\Iount Hood, and glistened on the serrated mountain tents of eternal snow. The Indians continue to sicken and die, and the imiversal suspicion of the tribes fell upon Whitman. Suddeidy there was a war-cry ! The mission ran with l)l()od. Whitman and his wife were the first to fall. Then horror succeeded horror, and many of the heroic pioneers of the Columbia River perished. " The Jesuits have been accused of causing the murder of Whitman," said one historian of Wash- ington to me. " They indignantly deny it. I have studied the whole subject for years with this opin- ion, that the Indian outbreak and its tragedies had THE SMOKE-TALK. 113 its origin, and liirgoly gatliorcMl its force, from tlie terrible joke of tlie conjured nieloiif^. '• Tliat was the evidence that must liave served greatly to turn the Indian mind against one of tlie hravest men that America has produced, and whose name will stand immortal among the heroes of Washinijton and Oreijjon." I n;ive this account as a local storv, and not as exact history; but this tradition was believed by the old people in Washington. When any one in the new settlement spoke of the Potlatch, this scene came up like a shadow. Would it be repeated 'i C'ilAPTEK VIII. THE ]{LACK eagle's NEST. In the log seliool-liousc, Lewis and Clarke''s Ex- pedition was used as a reading-book. Master Mann liad adopted it becanse it was easy to obtain, antl served as a sort of local geography and history. In this book is an aeconnt of a great black eagle's nest, on the Falls of the Missouri ; and the incident seemed intensely to interest the pictur- es(pie mind of Benjamin. " Let ns go see," said Benjamin, one day after this poetic part of Lewis and Clarke's narrative had been read. " What do you mean ? " asked ]\Ir. IMann. " I carry canoe, and we go and find him ! " "A\niat?" " The black eagle's nest." "Why?" " I'll get a plume — wear it here. Please father. I love to please father." THE BLACK EAGLK'S NEST, 115 There was to be a few weeks' vacation in a part of Se[)teinl»er and October, and Uen janiin's siig<;c8- tion led Mr. ^lann to plan an excursion to the Falls of the ^lissouri at that time. The old chief would be glad to have Ik-njamin go with him and lielp hunt, and carry the canoe. They would fol- low the Salmon Iviver out of the Columbia, to a point near the then called JelTerson IJiver, and so pass the mountains, and launch themselves on the Missouri, whence the way would l)e easy to the Falls. The dream of u." expedition seemed to make Benjamin perfectly happy. He had already been over a part of this territory, with his father, on a visit to the friendly tribes. The mid-autumn in the valleys of the rolund)ia and Missouri Elvers is serene, and yet kindles, with a sort of fiery splendor. The perfect days of America are here. Master ISIann and 'Renjamin started on their expedition with a few Indians, who M'ere to see them to the Jefferson Iliver and there leave them. The Yankee schoohnaster had a prophetic soul, and he felt that he was treading the territory of future empires. 8 116 THY. LOO SCIIOOL-IIOUSE ON THE COLUMRIA. Liiuiu'lic'd oil tlic ^Missouri, tlio thouglit of wliut tilt' vast plains niiijht heconic itvcrwlieliiied liim ut times, ancl lie would lie silent in his boat, and pray and dream. The soul of the Indian boy seemed as bright as the golden air of the cloudless days, during most of the time <»n the Salmon River, and while passing through the mountains. But he would sometimes start up suddenly, and a shade would settle on his face. Master IVFauTi noticed these sudden changes of mood, and he once said to him : "What makes you turn sad, Benjamin?" " Potlatch." " But that is a dance." " Hawks." " I think not, r>en jamin ! " " You do not know. They have' a hitter heart. My father does not sleep. It is you that keeps liim awake. He loves you ; you love nie and treat me well ; he loves you, and want to treat you well — see. She make trouble. Indians meet at night — talk bitter. Thev own the land. Thev liave rights. They threaten. Father no sleep. Sorry." THE BLACK EAOLF/S NEvST. 117 THE FALLS OF THE MlSSOrUI. Tlie Falls (if the Missouri arc not only wonder- ful and beautiful, but they abound with jj^rand tra- ditions. Hefore we follow our y»»ung explorer to the plaee, let us give you, good reader, some views of tliis part of i\I(»ntana as it was and as it now ai)j)ears. AVc reeently looked out on the i>land that once lifted the great black eagle's nest over the j)hing- ing torrent of water— the nest fannnis, doubtless, among the Indians, long before the days of J.ewis and Clarke. We were shown, in the eity of Great Falls, a mounted eagle, which, it was claimed, came from this nest amid the mists an not the beauty or the grand- eur of the other cataracts — the lIaini)ow Falls and the Great Falls — a few miles distant. r>ut it gathers the spell of poetic tradition about it, and strongly appeals to the sense of the iirtist and the poet. The romancer w(udd choose it for his w^ork, as the black eagles chose it for their liome. 118 THE LOa SCIIOOr.-IIOUSE ox THK COLrMIJIA. Near it is oiio of tho most lovely foimtiiiiirt in tho world, C'ulk'd tin; (iiiiiit Spriii*^. " Closo Inwido tho groat Missouri, Ere it tttkos its sooond loap, Is u spring of sparkling water liiko u rivor broad and doop." Tho spring pours out of the eurtli near the fall in a great natural fountain, emerakl-green, elear as erystal, bordered with water-cresses, ami mingles its waters with the clouded surges of the Missouri. If a person looks down into this fountain from a point near enough for liim to touch his nose to the water, all the fairy-like scenes of the Silver Springs and the AVaui. 'a Spring in Florida api)ear. The royal halls and chambers of Undine meet the view, with gardens of emeralds and gem-bearing ferns. It kindles one's fancy to gaze long into these crystal caverns, and a practical mind could hardly resist here the poetic sense of Fou({u6 that created Un- dine. The Black Eagle Falls, with its great nest and marvelous fountains, was a favorite resort of the Blackfeet Indians and t»ther Indian tribes. It is related in the old traditions that the Piegans, on one of their expeditions against the Crows, rested here, and became enchanted with the fonntain : TIIK BLACK EAGLKS NKST. ny " Hither onmo the warrior I'icpins On tlit'ir way to lif^lit the Cmw; Stood upon its ver;,'!', and wondered Wlml could nieiiu tlie power below," Tilt! PiL'^ims were tilled witli awe tliat t)ic fttiiiittiiii rose and fell and ^Mir