S Q y y< ^s'jm m .V J Q — ^ 71 S A^ fT^ «= § 1 ir^ ^ 4? \wumvcw//-' 5j^fi;?;ivri?r/>. iJ^" -r o A 5 =( "^^'/idJAiNilj^W ^^ Dill 4^lllbRARY/?/^ ^ '^tfOJIlVJ J0>^ >- m.. JM /Mi- /yv^^-y^^-^-A.,^ THE OX TEAM OR THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 1852-1906 A:< Acc'iTNT iiF THK AiTTHon's Tnir Acjjors •niK 1*LAI.\«, FUO.U IHK JIISSUUKI lilVKK Tu I*i;<;kt Sound, at tiik Ack ov Twknty-two, WITH AN Ox AND ("OW TKAM IN ^S^,2. AND uF His Rktukn with an Ox Tkam in the Year lOOti, at the Ace ok Sevknty-six, with Coi-ioLLS Excerpts Kuom His Juuknai, and OTHEI: ItELlABLE SoUUCKS OF IN l'\)HMATI(JN ; A Nauhative oi- Events and Desckii'tive of Present and Past Conditions : : : By EZRA MEEKER Author of Fionkkr Kkminiscences of Pucif.t Sound, The Tragedy of Lkschi, Hop Culture in the United States, Washington Territory West of the Cascade Moun- tains, Familiar Talks— A Three Years Serial. PRICE. $1.00. Published by the Author Omaha, Neb. Copyright uv EZRA MEEKER All Rights Rkserved PUBLISHED OCTOBER 1906. JACOB NORTH & CO.. TRINTERS, LINCOLN, NEB. DEDICATION. To the Pioneers who fought the battle of peace, and wrested Oregon from British rule, this l)()ok is reverently dedicated. 2H I 25 : CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Fkum Indiana tu Iowa. Early Days in Indiana — The Brimstone Meeting-house— I'm Going- to be a I'armer — Off for Iowa — An Iowa AA'inter. . IH CHAPTER II. Off foe Okegon. The Start— First Day Out 22 CHAPTER III. Crossing the Missouri 28 CHAPTER IV. Out ox the Plains. The Indians — The Ciiolera — Extent of Emigration — the t'as- ualties •^- ClIAPTER V. The Ilitiu CouKT. Law of Self-Preservation — Capital I'linishment 41 CHAPTER VI. The Ox. The Ox Passing — The Uattie of I'eaee 4.j CHAPTER VII. Tin: Ox Tea.m J'.iiigade and the Cow ('(H.i.m.n. Emigration of \S4:i — Horace <;reeley's Opinion— Cause that Saved Orej;on from P.rit'sh Rule — Jesse Aijplegate's Epic. 49 CHAPTER VIII. Like ox the Plains. Opening the Itoad .Mode of Travel in 18.")2 —Abandoned Properly — The Cholera — The Happy Family- -Heroi(; I'io- ncer \Vomen — Hardship.s 00 CHAPTER IX. RiVEU CltO.'^SlXUS. \\'agon beds as i'.oats — Down Snake River in \Vagon-l»nxes. . . . 74 CIIAPTEIC X. i;.\\A<:i:s (If 'JIIE Ciiiii,i;ii.\. The «Jreat Panic 7!) CHAl'Ti;U XL The Ox Tea.m Mommknt Exi-editiux. The Team- Team of 1 8."»2 'J"h<" \\ agnn -Camp No. L- Turn watr-r, War.hington 'I'ciiino .MunuTTienl Cenlralia, Wash- ington <'h<'lialis, Wasliingloii, ('lai|iialu. Washington - .la-ksoiis T.ilcdd. Washinuloi) I'orl land. < iicgiui 82 g CONTENTS. (•liArTKU XII. Floating Down I lie Uivoi- 07 CIIAi'TKU XIII. TiiK 0.\ Te.vm Monument KxrEuiTioN Cu.ntinued. Tlie Dalles, Oregon —Out from the Dalles— IVnUleton, Ore- gon- The Bfue Mountains — Meaeham, Oregon — La Grand, Oregon — Ladd's t'anyon — Camp No. 'M — Kaker City, Ore- gon — Old Mount Pleasant, Oregon — Durkee. Oregon — Huntington — Vale, Oregon lOG CIIAPTEU XIV. The Ox Teaji Monument IOxi-editiox Continued. Old Fort Boise — I'arnia, Idaho — Iloise, Idaho — Twin Falls. Idaho — American Falls, Idaho — I'oeatello, Idaho — Soda Springs. Idaho — Montpelier, Idaho — The Mad Bull — The Wounded Buffalo — Cokeville, Wyoming Iii2 CHAI'TKU XV. The Ox Team Monument Expedition Continued. The Kocky Mountains — I'ac'tic Springs— South Pass Monu- ment 131 ClIAPTIOU XVI. The Ox Tea.m Monument I-Ixi'edition Continued. Sweetwater — Split Uoek 139 CIIAPTEU XVII. The Ox Team Monument Expedition Continued. The Devil's Gate 143 CHAPTER XVIII. The Ox Team Monume.nt Expedition Continued. Independence Kock — Fish Creek — North Platte River — Casper, Wyoming — Glen Rock — Douglas, Wyoming — Puyallup — Tacoma — Seattle 148 CIIAPTEU XIX. The Ox Team Monument 11 At Scotts Bluff 100 Mrs. Rebecca Winter's Gkavi: 108 Ciii.MNEY Rock IT- Breaking the Cows 1 8o ( )N THE Bridge 1 !'4 A I'UGET Sound Pioneer Cabin '.ilO Ve (Ji.d Meeker IIo.mestead --0 THE OX TEAM OR THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 18^2-1906 INTRODUCTION TO AN INTRODUCTION I li;i(l not. until the last inoiiieiit, intended to write an introdnetion, nnless my readers ac- (•e|>ted the writinj; of early Indiana life as such. Introdnetions so often take the form of an apol- ogy that the dear pnblie properly omits to read them, and so I will content myself with the re- mark that this reference to my first chapter sliall answer for the introduction, for which I olfer no apology. CHAPTER I. From Indiana to Iowa. EARLY DAYS IN INDIANA. J N THE early '50s, out four and a half and 1 .seven miles respectively from Indianapolis, Indiana, there lived two young people with their parents, who were old-time farmers of the old style, keeping- no "hired man" nor buying many ''store goods.-' The girl could spin and weave, iiialvc delicious butter, knit soft, good shapen socks, and cook as good a meal as any other coun- (ry girl around about, and withal as buxom a lass as had ever been "'born and raised there (In- diana) all her life." These were times when sugar sold for eighteen cents per pound, calico fifteen cents per yard, salt three dollars a barrel, and all other goods at these comparatively high prices, while butter would bring but ten cents a pound, eggs five cents a dozen, and wheat l)ut two bits (twenty-five cents) ;i l)iish('l. And so, when these farmers went to the market town ( lndianai>olis) care was taken to carry along something to sell, either some eggs 14 Tin; ox TKA^NI OK or butter or perhaps a half dozeu pairs of socks or maybe a few yards of cloth, as well as Some grain, or hay or a bit of pork, or possibly a load of wood, to make ends meet at the store. The young man was a little uncouth in appear- ance, round-faced, rather stout in build — almost fat, — a little boisterous, always restless, and without a very good address, yet with at least one redeeming trait of character: he loved his work and was known as industrious a lad as any in the neighborhood. THE BRIMSTONE MEETING-HOUSE. These }ouug people would sometimes meet at the '''r)rimstoue meeting-house," a Methodist church known by that name far and wide; so named by the unregenerate because of the oi)en preaching of endless torment to follow nou- chureh members and sinners to the grave — a lit- eral lake of lire, taught with vehemence and accompanied with boisterous scenes of shoutiug of those who were "saved." Amid these scenes and these surroundings these two young people grew up to the age of manhood and womanhood, knowing but little of the world outside of their home sphere, — and who knows but as happy as TtlE OJ.I) OUKGON TRAIL 15 if they bad seeu tho whole world? Had they not experienced the joy a of the sugar camp while "stirring oW the lively creeping maple sugar? Both had been thnniped upon the bare head by the falling liickor\- nuts in windy weather; had hunted the black walnuts half hidden in the leaves; had scraped the ground for the elusive beach nuts, had even ventured to apple parings together, though not yet out of their "teens.'' The lad hunted llie "])ossuui and the coon in the White river bottom, now the suburb of the city of Indianapolis, and had cut even the stately. wal- nut trees, now so valuable (extinct in fact) that the cunning coon uiiglit be driven from his hiding place. I'M GOING TO BE A FARMER. "I'm going to be a farmer when I get married," the young man (piite abrui>lly said one «hiy to the lass, witiiout any ])revious conversation to lead u]» to such an assertion, lo lire confusion of his coiiiitauioii, who couhl uoi mistake the 1h( Mights tiia< promjtied tlie words. A few mouths later the lass said, ''Y<'s, 1 want to be a farmer, too, but I want to be a farmer on onr own land," and two bargains were confirmed then and there when the bid said, ^'NVe will go west and not live THE OLD OREGON TRML IT ou pap's farm." "Nor in the old cabin, nor any cabin unless it's our own," came the response, and so the resolution was made that they would go to Iowa, get some land, and grow up with the country, OFF FOR IOWA. About the first week of October, 1851, a cov- ered wagon drew up in front of Thomas Sumner's habitation, then but four miles out from Indian- apolis on the National road, ready to be loaded for the start. Eliza Jane, the second daughter of that noble man, the "lass" described, then the wife of the young man mentioned, the author, was ready, with cake and apple butter and pump- kin i>ies, jellies and the like, enough to last the whole trip and plenty besides. Not much of a load, to !)(' sure, but it was all we had: plenty of ]»hiukets, a good old-fashioned feather bed, a good sized Dutch oven, anurposes only," as he said, wiih a mei-ry t wiiikb' of the eye tliat exposed the subterfuge wliicli be knew 1 knew wit bout any sign. Tbe little wife bad pre|»ai'ed tbe lioiiie- llKlde \c;isl (ake W lljcll she klieW so wcll lloW lo 24 THE ox TEX^l OK make and dry, and we had light bread all the way, baked in a tin reflector instead of the heavy Dutch oven« so much in use on the Plains. Albeit the butter to a considerable extent melted and mingled with the flour, yet we were not much disconcerted as the short-cake that fol- lowed made us almost glad the mishap had oc- curred. Besides, did we not have plenty of fresli butter churned every day in the can, by the jostle of the wagon, from our own cows? Then the buttermilk. AMiat a luxury, yes, that's the word, a real luxury, I will never, so long as I live, for- get tliat short-cake and corn bread, the puddings and pumpkin pies, and above all the buttermilk. The reader who may smile at this may well recall th(^ fact that it is the small things that make up the happiness of life. But it was more than that. As we gradually crept out on the Plains and saw the sickness anl, and ciii-ed hul little so the teaui would go. FIRST DAY OUT. Tlie lli'st (hiy's drive out from Kddyville was a short one, aiiear river. Of the trip through Iowa little remains to be said further than that the grass was thin an;isse(i nrouiid. uithoni nnswci'. Tom .MeAule\ was not vet 30 THE OX TEAM OR i looked upon as a leader, as was the case later. The sister Margaret, a most detemiiued maideu lad} , the oldest of the party and as resolute and brave as the bravest, said to build a boat. JUit of what should we l)uild it? While this questiou \\'as under consideration and a search for nuite- rial nuule, one of our party, who had gotten across the river in search of timber for oars, dis- covered a scoA\' almost com])letely 1)uried, on the sand spit opposite the landing, "only just a small l)it of the railing and a corner of the boat vis- ible.'' The report schemed to be too good to be tru(\ The next thing to do was to find the owner, which in a search of a day Ave did, eleven miles down th(^ river. "Yes, if you will stipulate to de- liver the boat safely to me after crossing your five wagons and teams, you can have it," said the owner, and a bargain AAas closed right then and there. My ! but did n't we make the sand fly that night from that boat? IVv iiiorning we could be- gin to see the end. Then Itusy hands began to cut a landing on the perpendicular sandy bank on the loAva side; others were preparing sweeps, and all was bustle and stir and I might say excitement. By this time it had become noised around that another boat would be put on to ferry people THE OLn OKECJON TKAIL 31 over, and we \\<'rL' besici^cd with applications from detained emigrants. Final]}', tlu^ word coming to the ears of the ferrymen, they were foolish enough to undertake to prevent us from crossing ourselves. A writ of replevin or some other process was issued, I never knew exactly what, directing the sheriff to take possession of the boat when landed and which he attempted to do. I never before nor since attempted to resist an officer of the law, nor joined to accom- plish anything by force outside the pale of the law, but when that sheriff put in an appearance and we n^alized what it meant, there was n't a man in our party that did not run for his gun to the nearby camp, and it would seem needless to add we did not need to use them. As if by magic a liuudred guns were in sight. The sheriff with- drew, and the crossing went peaceably on till all our wagons were safely landed. But Ave had an- other danger to face: we canu; to know there Avould be an attempt to tak(! the l)oat from us, uot as against us, l)\it against the owner, and bnt foi- the jidiM.il ii!;iii:ig('iii('iil of .McAiilcv and my brother Oliver, wlio had joined us, \\o. woubl have; been unable to fulfil i'ovisions would we give up to the Indians, believing this policy was our only safeguard from spoliation, and in that we were right. The women folks had been sent over the river with the first wagon, and sent off a little wa}' to a convenient camp, so that the first show of arms came from that side of our little community, when some of the bolder Paw- nees attempted to pilfer around the wagons. l>ut no blood was slied, and I may say in passing there was none shed by any of our ])arty during the whole trip, though tlun-c did come a show of arras in several instances. One case in particular I nMuemlter. Soon after we had left the Missouri river we came to a small THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 33 bridge over a washout across the road, evidently constructed but very recently by some train just ahead of us. The Indians had taken possession and demanded pay for crossing. Some ahead of us had paid, while others were hesitating, but with a few there was a determined resolution not to pay. AVhen our party came up it remained for that fearless man, INIcAuley, in quite short order to clear the way though the Indians were there in considerable nundjers. ]NrcAuley said, ''You fellers come right on, for I 'm going across that bridge if I have to run right over that Ingen settin' there." And he did almost run over the Indian, who at the last moment got out of the way of his team, which was followed in such (liiick succession and with such show of arms the Indians ^^•ithdrew and left the road unobstructed. ^y(' did not, however, have much trouble with the Indians in 1852. The facts are the great imiiibers of tbe emigrants, coupled with the sii- ])eriority of their arms, placed them on compara- tively safe grounds. And it must be remember(»d, •ilso, that this wns before the treaty-making pe- riod, wliicli bus so often Ik'cii followed l)y blood- slied ;iiid war. 34 THE OX TEAM OK lUit to iTtiirn to the river bank. We crossed ou the 17th and 18th of May aud drove out a short way on the 19th, but not far enough to be out of hearing of a shrill steamboat whistle that resounded over the prairie, announcing the ar- rival of a steamer. I never knew the size of that steamer, or the name, but only know that a dozen A\'agons or more could be crossed at one time, and that a dozen or more trips could be made during the day, and as many at night, and that we were overtaken by this throng of a thousand wagons thrown upon the road, that gave us some trouble and much discomfort. THE CHOLERA. And now that we were fairly on the way the whole atmosphere, so to speak, seemed changed. Instead of the discordant violin and more dis- cordant voices, A\ith the fantastic night open-air dances, with mother earth as a floor, there soon prevailed a more sober mien, even among the young people, as they began to encounter the fatigue of a day's drive and the cares of a night watch. ^Wih so many, the watchword Avas to push ahead and make as big a day's drive as pos- sible, it is not to be wondered at that nearly THE OLD OKI<]GON TRAIL 35 the whole of the thousand wagous that crossed the river after we did soou passed us. "Now, fellers, jist let 'eui rush ou, and keep cool, we '11 overcatch them afore long," said Mc- Aulev. And we did, and passed many a broken- (hj\\ii team, the result of that tirst few days of I'ush. It Avas this class that unloaded such piles of provisions, noted elseAvhere, in the first two- hundred-mile stretch, and that fell such easy l>r;iny wiUi us. IJeing of an ;i know what had become of their component parts, or whither they had gone. Tlu^re did seem instances that would convert th(^ most ske]>tical to the Presbyterian doctrine of total dejiravity, so brutal and selfish were the jictions of souK^ men; Itrutal to men and women alike; to dumb brutes, and in fact to themselves. And yet alongside of. this, it is a pleasure to r<'cord that there were numerous instances of iioldc self-sacrifice, of helpfulness, of unselfish- ness, to the ])oiut of im])eriling their own lives. II became a common sayiug lliat to know one's neighl>ors, Ihcy must bo seen on llie Plains. EXTENT OF EMIGRATION. Tlic ;ii-niy <»r loose slock llial acconii>anie(l Ihis liiiuc e;ii-;i\;iM. a eolnnin, We ina\' jilniosi s;iy, of 281257 GRANFTE MOXT'MKNT AT BAKKK ("ITY, OREGON. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 39 live liimdred miles long without break, added {•reatly to the discomfort of all. Of course it will never be kuo^^'u the number of such or for that matter of the emigrants themselves, but their numbers were legion compared to those that la- bored under tlie joke. A conservative estimate would be not less than six animals to the wagon, and surely there were three loose animals to where there was on(; laboring, liy this it would appear that, while there were sixteen hundred wagons passed while we tarried four days, there were nearly ten thousand beasts of burden passed under review, and near thirty thousan the number of persons, certainly lliere ANcrc li\-e to the Avagon, maybe more, but calling it live, eight thousand people, men, women, and children, ])assed on, many to their graves not afar off. We know l»y liie inscribed dates found on In- dependence liock and elsewhere that there were wagons full three hundred mih'S ahead of us, and Ibat tbc llii'ong had continned to ]>ass the river more Ibiiii ;i iiioiilli nflcr w<' luul crossed, so that it does nol i'e(|uirc a slrelch of h trust reposed in it." So tersely described by Applegate as to conditions when the first great train moved out on the Plains in 1848, that 1 quote his words as describing conditions in 1852. There was this difference, however, in the emigration of 1843 — all, by an agreement, belonged to one or the other of the two companies, the '^cow column" or the ''light brigade,-' while with the emigrants of 1852 it is safe to say that more than half did not be- long to large companies, or one might say any organized company at all. l>ut this nuide no dift'erence, for Avlien an occasion called for action a ''high court" was convened, and woe betide the man that would undertake to defy its mandates after its deliberations were made public. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. One incident, well up on the Sweetwater, will illustrate the spirit and determination of the sturdy old men (elderly I should say, as no young men were allowed to sit in these councils) of the Plains, while laboring under stress of grave personal cares and with many personal be- reavements. A murder had been committed, and THE OLD OREGON TKAIL 43 it \\as clear the motive was robbery. Tlie sus- pect liad a large family, aud was travelinj^- aloug with the jiioviiii;' column. Men bad volunteered to search for the missing man and finall}^ found the proof i)ointin<>; to the guilty man. A council of twelve men was called and deliberated until the second da}', meanwhile holding the murderer safel}' within their grip. What were they to do? Here was a wife and four little children depend- ent upon this man for their lives; w'hat would become of this man's family if justice was meted out to hiuj? Soon there came an undercurrent of what ]iiight be termed public o])ini()n — that it was ])r()bably better to forego punishment than to endanger the lives of the family; but the coun- cil would not be swerved from their resolution, and at sundown of the third day the criminal was hung in the ])resence of the Avliole cam]), in- cliKliug the family, but not unfil aMii)le ])rovi- sions had been made to insure the safety of the family by providing a driver to finish the jour- ney. I came so near seeing this that I did see the ends of Hie wagon (oiigues in llie air and Ibe rope dangling in I lie air, but T have forged (<'n the names of the parlies, and even if T had no(, wonbl be loalli (o make jbem jmbjic. 44 THE OX TEAM OR From uecessity, murder was pimishable with death; but stealiug, b}' a tacit uuderstaudiuji,, with whipping, which, when intlictcd by one of those long ox hishes in the hands of an expert, Avas a terrible castigation, as the sting of the lash would bring the blood from the victim's back at every stroke. Minor offenses or differences gen- erally took the form of an arbitration, the deci- sion of which each party would abide as if ema- nating from a court of law. Lawlessness was not common on the Plains, no more so than in the communities from which the great body of the emigrants had been drawn, and in fact we may safely say not so much, as punishment was swift and certain, and that fact had its deferent effect. l>ut tlie great body of the emigrants were a law-abiding set from law- abiding communities. THE OLD OKEGUxN TUAIL 45 CHAPTER Vl. The Ox. THE OX PASSING. THE ox is pas.siug; iu fact we may almost say has. i)assed. Like the old-time spinning- wheel and the hand loom, that, are only to be seen as mementos of the past ; or the quaint old cobbler's hcncli with its hand-made lasts and shoe pegs; or the heavy iron bubbling mush pot on the crane in the chimney corner; like the fast vanishing of the old-time men and women of fifty years or more ago — all are passing, to be laid asipl ic;il ion of lliese ex]M*i*ien.-es ; wliije tjie one bnilds n|)oii Hie foun- dations of the |>;is(, wliicli engenders hope and anibilioii foj- Hie IHIni-e, (lie odiei- has no past 46 THE ox TEAM OR uor aspiratious for the future. As revci'cuce for tlie past dies out iu the breasts of a geueration, so likewise patriotism waues. In the measure that the love of the history of the past dies, so likewise do the higher aspirations for the future. To keep the flame of patriotism alive we have onl}' to keep tlie memory of the past vividly in mind. THE BATTLE OF PEACE. Bearing these thoughts in mind, this expedi- tion to perpetuate the memory of the old Oregon Trail was undertaken. And there was this fur- ther thought, that here was this class of heroic men and Avomen who fought a veritable battle, — a battle of peace to be sure, yet as brave a battle as any by those that faced the cannon's mouth; a battle that was fraught with as momentous results as any of the great battles of grim war; a battle that wrested half a continent from the native race and from a mighty nation contend- ing for mastery in the unknown regions of the AVest, whose fame was scantily acknowledged and whose name was already almost forgotten, and whose track, the battle-ground of peace, was on the verge of impending oblivion. Shall this be- THE OLD ()UI-:G0X TUAIL 47 come au accouiplislied fact? The answer to this is this expedition, to perpetuate the memory of the ohl Oregon Trail, and to honor the intrepid l)ioneers wlio made it and saved tliis great region, the old Oregon country, for Anu^ricau rule. The ox team did it. Had it not been for the ])atient ox with the wagon train, the preponder- ance of an American settlement in tlu^ old Oregon country over that of the ]>ritisli could not have so certainly prevailed; and in fact uncertainty liovered over the land with results hanging in Ihe balance until that first wagon train reached the reiiion of contendinir forces. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 49 CHAPTER VII. The Ox Team Brigade and the Cow Column. EMIGRATION OF 1843 SIXTY-THREE years ago (1843) a company uunibcrinj^' iicai-lv one thonsaud strong, of men, women, and children, with over five thou- sand cattle, guided by such intrepid men as Peter Burnett (afterwards first governor of Califor- nia), Jesse Applegate, always a first citizen in the community wliere he had cast his lot, and James ^V. Nesbitt, afterwards one of the first senators from tlie state of Oregon, made their way with ox and cow teams toilsomely up the Platte valley, up the Sweetwater, through the South Pass of the Eocky mountains, and across rivcis to I'ort JTnll on the u]>per waters of Snake river. Tliis far there had been a few traders- wagons and the track had been partially broken for this thousand mile stretch. Not so for the remainder of their journey of near eight hundred miles. Not a wheel had been t iii'iied west of this post (then llie abiding ]dace for the "walrh- 50 THE OX TEAINI OR dogs'' of the IJritish, the llndsou Bay Company, who cast a coyc4oiis eye upon the great Oregon country), except the Whitman cart, packed a part of the way, but linally stalled at Fort Boise, a few hundred miles to the A\'est. This great company, encouraged and guided l»y >\'liitman,^ took their lives in their liands wlien they cut loose from Fort Hall and headed tlieir teams westwar OKKGON TKAIL 51 the weary summer march, the storm-drenched bivouac and the guawings of famine? This emi- gration of more than a thousand persons in one body to Oregon wears an asjoect of insanity." The answer came back in due time, "for what" they braved tlie (hingers of a trip across tlie Phiins to an almost unknown hind, in petitions praying for lielp to hohl tlie country they had, as we might say, seized ; for recognition as Amer- ican citizens to be taken under the fostering care of the liome government that their effort might not fail. And yet tiv<' long years passed and no relief came. An army had been asseniMed, an Indian war fought, when, at the dying mouu'nt of Congress, under the stress of public oi)ini()n, aroused by the atrocious massacre of Whituuui, ]>ai*ty ]»assi(»n on the slavery (piestion was smoth- ered, the long-looked for i-elief came, au'heu til is train safely arrived, the j)reponder- ance of the American settlers was so great that there was no more question as to who should temporarily possess the Oregon country. An American provisional goNcrnmcnt was iiumedi- ately organized, the liritish rule was challenged, and Oregon was "saved," and gave three great states to the Union,^ and a large part of two more. Other ox team brigades came. l*^)ur(('('ii liiiu- dred people in 1844 followed the track made in 1843, and three thousand in 1845, and on August 15 of that 3'ear the Hudson Bay Company ac- cepted the protection of the provisional govern- ment and paid taxes to its officers. Shall we let the memory of such men and women smolder in our minds and sink into ob- livion? Shall we refuse to recognize their great courageous acts and fail in do honor to their ' The first attempt to form an American provi- sional government only prevailed by one majority and finally fell because of the lack of American preponderance. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 53 memory? We erect monuments to commemorate the achievements of grim war and to mark the bloody battlefields ; then why shall we not honor those who went out to the battle of the Plains? — a battle of peace, to be sure, j^et a battle that called for as heroic deeds and for as great sacri- fice as any of war and fraught with as momentous i-esults as the most sanguinary battles of history. The people that held Oregon with such firm grip till the sacrifice came that ended all contention deserve a tender place in the hearts of the citizens of this great commonwealth. A glimpse into the life of the struggling mass of the first wagon train is both interesting and useful, interesting in the study of social life of the past, and useful from an historical point of view. JESSE APPLEGATE'S EPIC. Jesse Applegate, leader of the "cow column," after the division into two companies, many years afterwards wrote of the trip, and his ac- count has been published and republished and may be found in full in the Oregon Historical Quarterly. His writing is accepted as classic, and his facts, from first hands, as true to the letter. 54 THE ox TEAM Oil Portraying the sceues with the "cow columu" for one day he wrote: "It is 4:00 oV-loek a.m.; tlie sentinels on duty have discharged their ritles — the signal that the hours of sleep are over — and every wagon and tent is pouring forth its night tenants, and slow kindling smokes begin lazily to rise and float away in the morning air. Sixty men start from the corral, spreading as they make through the vast herd of cattle and horses that make a semi- circle around the encampment, the most distant perhaps two miles away. "Tlie herders pass the extreme verge and care- fully examine for trails beyond to see that none of the animals have strayed or l)een stolen dur- ing the night. This morning no trails lead be- yond the outside animals in sight, and by five o'clock the herders begin to contract the great moving circle, and the well-trained animals move slowly towards camp, clipping here and tliere a thistle or a tempting l»unch of grass on the way. Til about an liour five thousand animals are close up to the encampment, and the teamsters are Imsy selecting their teams and driving them in- side the corral to be yoked. The corral' is a circle one hundred yards deej) formed with wagons con- TliE OLD OUKGUN TIJAIL 55 uectod strongly with each other; the wagou iu the rear being connected with the wagon in front by its tongue and ox chains. It is a strong bar- rier that the most vicious ox can not break, and iu case of attack from the Sioux would be no contemptible intrenchment. "Froui ():00 to 7:00 o'clock is the busy time; breakfast is to be eaten, the tents struck, the wagons loaded and the teams yoked and brought u]) in readiness to be attached to their respective wagous. All know when, at 7:00 o'clock, the signal to march sounds, that those not ready to take their i)laces in the line of nmrch uiust fall into the dusty rear for th(> day. There are sixty wagons. They have been divided into fifteen di- xisioiis or platoons of four wagons each, and cacli j)latoon is eutith'd to lead in its tnru. The h'adiiig i)last bis place in the line, and is comleinneck \'.M. and end ;il I :(M) o'clock A.M." 00 THE OX TEA IS r OK CIIArTER VIII. Life on the Plains. OPENING THE ROAD, T HE reader will note, "To-day, the groimd being favorable, little time has been lost in preparing the road," showing the arduous task l)efore (lieiu in road making. The search for the best route to avoid steep pitches or rocky points or liigh sage brush required constant vigilance on the part of the "pioneers" whose duty, with the pilot, was to spy out and prepare the way for the caravjin to foHow. At the noon hour, I note, "'As tlie teams are not unyoked, but simply turned loose from the wagon, a corral is not formed," a cruel practice I frequently saw in 1852. It is with pride I can write that neither lUick and Dandy in 1852, nor T^^ ist and Dave in 1900, ever stood with the yoke on while I lunched, and that the former w^re in better con- dition when the trip was ended than when they started, even though they were at the start un- broken steers. I'wist and Dav(^ have come through the ordeal in as good condition as at tlie THE OLD OREGON TKAIL Gl start, until Twist was poisoned and died, al- though they alone have brought the one wagon (weighing 1,400 pounds) and its load all the way, a distance of nearly 1,700 miles. A word as to the rules of the expedition just completed. Loug before the summer solstice, the alarm clock was set at 4:00, breakfast over by 5 :00, and the start usually made by 6 :00 o'clock. ^y^i always took a long nooning hour, and if warm, several hours, and then traveled late, mak- ing from fifteen to twenty-five miles a day, aver- aging seventeen and a half miles for traveling (lays. Slow, you will say. Yes; slow but sure. MODE OF TRAVEL IN 1852. And now as t(» oui- mode of travel in 1852. I did not enter an organized company, neither could I travel alone. Four wagons, with nine men, by a tacit agreement, traveled together for a thousand miles, and separated only when our roads parted, tlu; one to California and the other to Oregon. And ^'et we were all the while in one great train, never out of the sight or liearing of olliers. In fact, at times the road would be so full of wagons that all could not travel in one li-ack, and this fact accounts for llic (loiilile i-oad- 02 THE OX TEAM OR beds seen in so man}' places on the trail. One of the party alwaj-s went ahead to look ont for water, grass, and fnel, three requisites for a camp- ing place. The grass along the beaten track was always eaten otT close by the loose stock, of which there A\(n'e great numbers, and so we had fre- quently to take the cattle long distances. Then came the most tr^'ing part of the whole trip — the all-night watch, which resulted in our making the cattle our bedfellows, back to back for warmth ; for signal as well, to get up if the ox did. It was not long though till we were used to it, and slept (piite a bit except when a storm struck us; well, then it was, to say the least, not a pleasure outing. l>ut weren't Ave glad when tlie morning came, and percliance the smoke of the cami)fire miglit be in sight, and maybe, as we approaclied, we could catch the aroma of the coffee. And then such tender greetings and such thoughtful care that would have touched a heart of ston(^, and to us seemed like a paradise. AVe were supremcdy hai)py. ABANDONED PROPERTY. People too often brought their own ills upon themselves by their indiscreet action, esx^ecially THE OI-I) OUHGOX TUAIL 08 ill the lo.s.s of their teams, llie trip had not pro- L^ressed far till there eaine a universal outcry against the heavy loads and unnecessary articles, and soon we begun to see abandoned property. First it might be a table or a cupboard or per- chance a bedstead or a heavy cast-iron cook- stove. Then began to be seen bedding by the wayside, feather beds, blankets, qtiilts, pillows, everytliing of the kind that mortal man might want. Not so very long till here and there an al»anch>ned wagon was to be seen, provisions, stacks of liour, and bacon being the most abun- dant, all left as common jn-operty. Help your- self if you will, no one Avill interfere, and in fact in some places a sign was posted inviting all to lake what they wanted. Hundreds of wagons were left and hundreds of tons of goods. Teople seemed to vie with each other to give away their l»iop<*rty, there being no chance to sell, and they ai'm('n were to be seen on all sides. They wore what they had left or conld get without question of the fitness of things. Ilich dresses were worn by some ladies l)ecause they had no other's left; the gentlemen drew on their A^ardrobes till scarcely a fine unsoiled suit was left. HARDSHIPS. The dust has been spoken of as intolerable. The word hardly expresses the situation ; in fact, I can not say the English language contains the word to define it. Here was a moving mass of humanity and dumb brutes at times mixed in inextricable confusion a hundred feet wide or more. At times two coluirais of wagons travel- ing on parallel lines and near each other served as a barrier to prevent loose stock from crossing, THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 71 but usually there would be an almost inextricable mass of cows, young cattle, horses, and footmen moving along the outskirts. Here and there would be the drivers of loose stock, some on foot and some on horseback; a young girl nuiybe rid- ing astride with a younger child behind, going here aniug hand. As in a thronged city street, no one seeined to look to the right or to the left, or l>ay much if any attention to others, bent alone ou accomplishment of their task in hand. Over all, in calm weather at times the dust would set- tle so thick that the lea down the river on the south bank. Some trains had caulked three wagon-beds and lashed them together and were crossing, and would uot help others across THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 75 fi)i- less tbau three to live dollars a wagou, the parly swiiiimiiig their owu stock. If others could cross ill A\agou-beds, why could I not do so like- wise? and without much ado all the old clothing that could possibly be spared was marshaled, tar buckets ransacked, old chisels and broken knives hunted up, and a veritable boat repairing and caulking campaign inaugurated; and shortly the wag(m box rode placidly, even if not gracefully on the turbul waters of the formidable river. It liad been my fortune to be the strongest pliysic- ally of any of our little party of four men, though I ANOuld cheerfully accept a second place iiiciilally. My boyliood pranks of playing and pa lo tlie lower ci'ossiug was made. It may be ludicrous, but is true, that the most 1 remem- 78 THE OX TEAjSI OK ber about that trip is the jack rabbits — such swarms of them I had never seen before as I trav- eled down the JJoise valley, and never ex^^ect to see the like again. The trip was luade in safety, but conditions were ditfereut. xVt the lower crossing, as I have already said, some were dis- posing of their teams and starting to float down the river; some were fording, a perilous under- taking, but most of them succeeded who tried, and besides a trader ^^'hose name I have forgott(m had an established ferry near the old fort (Boise). But I soon obtained the wagon-bed and was at work during all of the daylight hours (no eight-hour-a-day there) crossing people till the teauis came up, anense of this expedition to perpetuate Ibe memory of the old Oregon Trail, by erecting s(one monunu^nts, is borne by myself except such volunfjiry aid as nuiy be given by those taking an i 111 crest in tlie work, and you are respectfully solicited to contribute such sum as may be convenient." To this appeal a generous response has been made, as attested by the lijie of monuments from I'ugcl Sound to this point, a brief account of wiiicli, wilb iiH-idciils of lliis li-ip ;in(l of Ibe Iriji iii;i(|(' by nic will) an ox :iii(i cow Icani in IS,">2, will fo1b>\v. THE OLD OllEGON TRAIL 85 THE TEAM. The team consists of one seven-year-old ox, Twist, and one unbroken range four-year-old steer, Da^e. ^^'llen we were ready to start, Twist weighed 1,470 and Dave 1,5(50 pounds, respect- ively. This order of weight was soon changed. In three months' time Twist gained 130 and Dave lost 10 pounds. All this time I fed with a lavish hand all the rolled barley 1 dare and all the hay they would eat. During that time thirty-three (lays lapsed in Avhich Ave did not travel, being engaged either arranging for the erection or dedi- caiion of monuments. TEAM OF 1852 My team of 1852 consisted of two unbroken steers and two cows. The cows I had to give up lo save the life of (he oxen during the deep snow that fell in the winter of 1852-53. The oxen hauled our belongings over to the head of Puget Soiniil in .Inly, 18.53, and 1 there parted with I hem. Of that ])arting 1 <|Uote from my work "I'ioneer Keminiscences of Puget Sound:" '•What 1 am now about lo write may ])rovoke ;i smih-, hul 1 e;iii ouiv sav, reader, put yourself ill my |ibi-c. Tluit i liei-e sliouhl be a feeling akin 86 THE OX TEAM OR to affection between a man and an ox will seem l^ast comprehension to many. The time had come when Buck and Dandy and 1 must part for good and all. 1 could not transport them to our island home, neither provide for them. These patient, dumb brutes had been my close companions for the long, weary months on the Plains, and had never failed me; they would do my bidding to the letter. I often said Buck understood English better than some; people 1 had seen in my life- time. I had done A\hat not one in a hundred did; that was to start on that trip with an unbroken ox and cow team. I had selected these four-year- old steers for their intelligent eyes as well as for their trim build, and had made no mistake. We had bivouacked together ; actually slept together ; lunched together. They knew me as far as they could see, and seemed delighted to obey my word, and I did regret to feel constrained to part with them. I knew they had assured my safe transit on the weary journey, if not even to the point of having saved my life. I could pack them, ride them, drive them b3^ the word and receive their salutations, and why should I be ashauied to part with feelings of more than regret?'' THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 87 I have no such feelings for the brute Twist, for on April 12 he kicked me, almost broke my knee, and came near disabling me for life, and Dave is worse, for they both kick like government mules. If the reader happens to know how that is he will appreciate the definition. Twist, however, is the Ix'st all round ox I ever saw. Dave has not yet lost liis range spirit entirely, and sometimes gets iii;h1 ;ni■toD, February 19, 1906, and but two miles from the eud of the old Trail, — in early days of Oregon l)ut now A\^asliington. The drive to Tumwater was made, a post set at the end of the Trail, and subsequently arrangements com- pleted to substitute an inscribed stone. TENINO MONUMENT. A( Tcniiio the citizens had prepared and in- scribed a suitable stone, and on Fel)ruary 21 t\w. same A\'as dedicated with due ceremony, with nearly the whole population in attendance. CENTRALIA, WASHINGTON. Al ( (Milralia contributions were made siH'ti- ciciil to waii-aiit ordering an inscribed slonc, wliich was (h>n(', and in due time was |)la<'ed in lM)sir the street at the ]»;!i-k, an.' A Scplcnilx'i' day of 1852 au assemblage of persons could be seen encamped on the 1 tanks of the great Columbia,, at The Dalles, now a city of no small pretensions, but then only a name for the peculiar configuration of country adjacent to and including rhe waters of the great ri\('r. One would soon discover this assemblage was constantly changing. Every few hours stragglers canu' in from off the dusty road, be- grimed Avith the sweat of the brow commingh'd witli particles of dust driven through tli(^ air, soiiicliiiies by a gentle breeze, and then again by a violent gab' s>\-eeping up the river tliroiigh the; mountain gaj) of (lie Cascade range. A molley ri-()\\(l I licse ]»('opl(' were, almost cosm(>]»ol ilaii in nationality, yd all vesiigc of i-ace ix'culiai'il ics oi- race jtrejudices gi-omid away in the mill of ndvci'sily and (i-ials common jo nil alike in com- 'From "Pionoer Reminiscences of Puget Sound, The TraROfly of Leschi." by Ezra Meeker, published and sold by (he author. (1x9, fiOO pages, cloth $3.00; leather $4.00. Puyallup, Washington. 98 THE OX TEAM OR mull daiigei*. And yet, the dress and appearance of this assemblage were as varied as the huiiuui countenance and as unique as the great mountain scenery before them. Home were chid in scanty attire as soiled with the dust as their l)rows; others, while with better pretensions, lacked some ijortions of dress required in civilized life. Here a matronly dame with clean apparel Avould be without shocks, or there, perhaps, the husband without the hat or perhaps both shoes and hat absent; there the youngsters of all ag^s, making no pretensions to genteel clothing other than to cover their nakedness. An expert's ingenuity would be taxed to the utmost to discover either the texture or original color of the clothing of either juvenile or adult, so prevailing was the patchwork and so inground the particles of dust and sand from off the Plains. "Home of these people Avere buoyant and hoi)e- ful in the anticipation of meeting friends whom they knew were awaiting them at their journey'^ end, while others were downcast and despondent as their thoughts went back to their old homes left behind, and the struggle now so near ended, and forward to the (to them) unknown land ahead. Some had laid friends and relatives ten- THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 99 (lerly away in the shifting sands, who had fallen by the wayside, with the e(H'tain knowledg(3 that Avith many the spot selected by them would not be the last resting place for the bones of the loved ones. The hunger of the Avolf had been appeased ))y the abundance of food from the fallen cattle that lined the trail for a thousand miles or more, or from the weakened beasts of the emigrants that constantly submitted to capture by the re- lentless native animals. Not so for the future, when this sujjply of food had disappeared. "The story of the trip across the Plains in 1852 is both intcn'esting and pathetic, but I have planned to write of life after the journey rather than much about the journey itself; of the trials that beset the people after their five months' struggle on the tented field of two thousand miles of marching was ended, where, lik(! on the very battlefield, the dead lay in rows of fifties or more; where the trail l)ecame so lined with fallen animals rme could scarcely be out of sight or smell of cari'ion ; whci-e llie sick had no respite from siirtcriiig iioi- I lie well IVom faligiie. l»ut this oft-told story is a subject of itself, treated Iii-ictJy to the end \v<' may have s])ace to tell what li;i|»j»eiie(l \\ lien (lie j(»iiniey w as ended. 100 THE OX TEAM OR "The constant gathering on the bank of the Columbia and constant de^jartures of the emi- grants did not nmterially change the numbers encamped, nor the general appearance. The great trip had moulded this army of home-seek- ers into one homogenous mass, a common broth- erhood, that left a lasting imjiression upon the participants, and, although few are left now, not one but A\'ill greet an old comrade as a brother indeed, and, in fact, with hearty and oftentimes tearful congratulations. "We camped but two days on the bank of the river. When I say Sve' let it be understood that I mean myself, my young wife, and the little baby boy, who was but seven weeks old when the start was made from near Eddyville, Iowa. Both were sick, the mother from gradual exhaustion during the trip incident to motherhood, and the little one in sympathy, doubtless drawn from the moth- er's breast. "Did you ever think of the wonderful mystery of the inner action of the mind, how some im- pressions once made seem to renuiin, while oth- ers gradually fade away, like the twilight of a summer sunset, until finally lost? And tlicn how seeminarlv trivial incidents will be fastened TJIi: OLD OREGON TILUL 101 upon ouevs mcmoi-y wliile others of more im- portanee we would recall if we could, but which ha^e faded forever from our assing Ihe Cascade mountain range. "For myself, 1 can liiily say that the trip had not drawn on my vitality as I saw with so many. True, I had been worked down in flesh, having lost nearly twenty pounds on the trip, but what wciglii I Iiad jcfl was I lie bone and siuew of my syslcni, that serve*! lue so well ou this trip and lias been my comfort in other walks of life at a laler pei-jod. Aud so, iC asked, did you exjx'i-i- euce ]iai-(|siii|» on the (i-i]» aci'oss Ihe IMaiiis, T r(»'ild not auswcr \<'s wilhonl a menial i-eserva- 104 THE OX TEAM OK tion that it might have been a great deal worse. I say the same as to after experience, for these subsequent fifty years or more of pioneer life, having been blessed with a good constitution, and being now able to say that in the fifty-three years of our married life the wife has never seen me a day sick in bed. But this is a digression and so we must turn our attention to the trip on the scoAV, 'floating doAvn the river.' "In our company, a party of three, a young married couple and an unmarried sister lounged on their belongings, listlessly watching the rip- ples on the water, as did also others of the party. But little conversation was passing. Each seemed to be communing with himself or herself, but it was easy to see what were the thoughts occupying the minds of all. The young husband, it was plain to be seen, would soon complete that greater journey to the unknown beyond, a condi- tion that weighed so heavily upon the ladies of the party that they could ill conceal their solici- tude and sorrow. Finalh^, to cheer up the sick husband and brother, the ladies began in sweet subdued voices to sing the old familiar song of ^Home, Sweet Home,' whereupon others of the party joined in the chorus with increased vol- THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 105 lime of sound. As the echo of the echo died away, at the moment of gliding under the shadow of the high mountain, the second verse was begun, l»nt was never finished. If an electric shock had fstartled every individual of the party, there could have been no more simultaneous effect than when 1 he second line of the second verse was reached, w hen, instead of song, sobs and outcries of grief poured forth from all lips. It seemed as if there were a tujuult of despair mingled with prayer pouring forth without restraint. The rugged l)oatm('n rested upon their oars in awe and gave away in sympathy with the scene before them, until it could truly be said no dry eyes were left nor aching heart but was relieved. Like the downpour of a sununer shower that suddenly < Icars the atmosphere to welcome the bright shin- ing sun that follows, so this sudden outburst of grief cleared away the despondency^, to be re- placed by an exalted exhilarating feeling of buoy- ancy and hopefulness. The tears were not (liie*! lill iiiii'lh took possession — a real hysterical iiiau- ifcstjilion of liic wlioic |»ai-(y. Ihal ciKlcd all h>. In consequence of the weather, the dedication ceremonies were post- poned." I'rioi- to h'aving home 1 had written to the hidies of the landmark committee that ui)ou my arrival at The Dalles I Avould b(; i)leased to have their cooperation to secure funds to erect a mon- ument in their city. What should they do but put their heads together and provide one already inscribed and in place and notify nu' that I luid been seh'cted to deliver tlie dedicatory address and that it was expected the wlioh' city would turn out to witness tlie ceremonies. But alas, the fiei'ce cold winds s]»oiled all their well-laid pbins, for llie s anlaced by inex]K'ri<'nc('d liands, who did a good job, though, for Ihe shoes siayed on until well W Ol'll. On (lie Phiins in '52 l>ut few shod their cattle. .Many cows were Avoi-ked, and light steers, and liiost of Hie ontdls had spare cadle to pnt in llK'ir Icaiiis in case one bccanif lanic or (cndcr fodtcd. 1 knew ol" SCNcrill l\iiiu cowhide sjioes THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 111 ou to protect the feet of their cattle, while with others it was pitiable to see the suffering, liiiip- iug, diiml) brutes laljoriiig. OUT FROM THE DALLES. At 3:30 I'.M. on ^larch 11 we drove out from The Dalles. I have always felt that here was the real starting point, as from here there could be no more shipping, but all driving. l>y rail it is 1,731 miles from The Dalles to Omaha, where our work on the old Trail ends. By wagon road the distance is some greater, but not much, iH'ob- ably I.SOO miles. Tlie load was heavy as well as llic i-ojids. ^^'itl1 a team untrained to the road for ^leacham. Ardor warming. iJut th(; summit had not been reachelac(', Ihc jcaiiis liilclKMl u]>, standing near il. and n-ady for (lie slart as soon as the order was gi\('n. Everybody was out, the little school in a body, a neat speech was made by the orator IVoiii Pcndlcion, and Oic two teams to the one waizoii iiio\cd on lo I lie front to baltle with tin; snow. Ami il wasabaHIc W'c read of (he ^Masf 1 1() THE OX TEA^r OR .straw that broke the cauicl's back." I said, after we had i^otteii tliroii^iili, "1 wonder if anotlier tlake of suow woidd liave balked ns?" But no one ausWercHl, and 1 took it for granted they did n't know. And so we went into camp on the hither side of the summit. Ardor A\armer. LA GRAND, OREGON. The sunsliine that was let into our hearts at La Grand (Oregon) was refreshing. "Yes, we will have a monument," the response cahie, and tliev did, too, and dedicated it while I tarried. Ardor normal. LADD'S CANYON. I again quote; from ujy journal : "T'amp No. 34, April 11. We left La Grand at 7:30 (a.m.) and brought an inscribed stone witli us to set up at iutersecticm near the mcmtli of Ladd's canyon, eight miles out from J^a Grand. At 1:00 o'clock the school near by came in a body, and several residents to see and hear. The children sang '(\)lum1)ia, the Geni of the Ocean,' after whicli I talked to Ihem for a few monumts, closing by all singing 'America' and we photo- graphed the scene. Each child brought a stone THE OLD OKKGON TUAIL 1.17 aud cast it upon the pile suiToiiudiug the base of the luouiimeut.*' CAMP NO. 34. At this caiiij), on April 12, the Twist ox kick<'d me and almost totally disabled my riiiht leg for a month and probably has resulted in permanent injury. Much had to be left undone that other- wise eould have been accomplished, but I am re- joiced that it was no worse and thankful to the kind friends that worked so ardently to accom- l)lish what has been done, an account of which follows. BAKER CITY, OREGON. The citizens of IJaker City lent a willing ear to llie suggestion to erect a monument on the high school ground to perjK'tuate the memory of the old Trail and to honor the pioneers who nuide it, although the Trail is ojf to the north six uiiles. A tine granite shaft was |»r()\i(led and dedicatecl while 1 tarried, ami an inscribed stone marker set i)i the Trail. Eight hundred school children contribntcd an iiggregate <»f $(>0 to pbiee a i)k' of Durkee had "hcanl what was <^o- ing ou down tlie Hue/' and said they were ready to provide the funds for a monument. One was ordered from the granite worlvS at IJaker City, and in due time was dedicated, but unfortunately I have no photograph of it. The stone was planted in tlie old Trail on the principal street of the village. HUNTINGTON. Huntington came next in the track where the Trail ran, and herci a granite monument was erected and dedicated while I tarried, for A\'liich the citizens willingly contributed. Here seventy- six school children contributed their dimes and half dimes, aggregating over |4. After the ex])erience in Baker City, Oregon, where, as already related, 800 children contrib- uted and at Boise, Idaho, to be related later, over a thousand laid down their offerings, I am con- vinced this feature of the work is destined to give great results. It is not the financial aid I refer to, but the ett'ect it has upon children's minds to set them to thinking of this subject that has here- THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 121 toforc laid «loriiiant, and to kindle a tlanic of patriotic scutinicnt that will cudnre iu after life. Each elidd iu Baker uu(ls, auarlici- pated in the exercises of dedicaliou on April 30. THE ox TEAM OK CHAI»TMR XIV The Ux Team Monument Expedition Continued. OLD FORT BOISE. THIS tiuisliod the work in Oregon, as we soou crossed Snake river jnst below the mouth of Boise and were. landed on the historic spot of the old Fort I>oise, established by the Hudson Bay Company in September, 1831. Tliis fort was es- tablished for the purpose of preventing the suc- cess of the American venture at Fort Hull, a post establislied earlier in 1834 by Nathaniel J. Wythe. Wythe's venture proved disastrous, and the fort soon pass(?d into his rival's hands, the Hudson Bay Company, thus for the time being- securing undisputed liritish rule for the whole of that vast region known as the Inland Empire. Some relics of the old fort at Boise were se- cured, arrangements made for planting a double inscribed stone to mark the site of the fort and the Trail, and afterwards, through the liberality of the citizens of Boise City, a stone was shipped and d(tiil>tless before ihis i>ut in place. THE OLD OKE(U)N TRAIL 123 PARMA, IDAHO. The first town eucouutered iu Idaho was Parma, where the contributions warranted ship- ]>ing an inscribed stone from Boise City, which was done, and is donbth^ss ere this in place, but no ]>li<»t(),'ira}»li of it is at hand. BOISE, IDAHO. At JJoise, the capital city of IcUdio, there; were nearly 1,200 c()ntrll)utions to the monument fund by the pupils of the imblic schools, each child sij;iiing his or her name to the roll, showinji,' the school and i»rade to which the child belon.iicd. Th(^se rolls with printed headings were collected, itoiiiid (oLiclhei', and deposited willi the archives of (he i*i(»neer Society historical collect ion for future reference and as a ]>art of the history of the uionunient. Mach cliild was iiiven a signed certiticate showing the amount of the conti'ibu- tiou. The uu)nuuu>nt stands on the state house gi'ouixls and is inscribed as the children's otfei'- in^ (o ilie iiieniory of the ]>ioneers. Near lhi*ee thousand people at tended tlie dedicaticui sei-\ ice, the ]u-oij,)-ani of which is here giv<'n in full to show tiie s|iii-i1 |tre\;iiling and lo illustrate the y.eal nianiresled in many oilier places: 124 • THE OX tea:m or PROGRAM PIONEER MONUMENT DEDICATION. Capitol Grounds, Boise, Idaho, Wednesday, may 9, 1906. major j. a. pimney, presiding. Song "Idaho" By the School Children. A lovely mountain home is ours, Idaho, O, Idaho! Of winters mild and springtime showers, Idaho. O, Idaho! Her breezes blow from western shore; Where broad Pacific's billows roar; Each year we love her more and more, Idaho, O, Idaho! Her mountains grand are crowned with snow, Idaho, O, Idaho! And valleys fertile spread below, Idaho, O, Idaho! The towering pines on cliffs so steep. O'er cataracts their vigils keep. Or in the lakes are mirrored deep, Idaho, O, Idaho! A thousand hills where herds may range, Idaho, O, Idaho! And lava beds so weird and strange, Idaho, O, Idaho! Above our heads are cloudless skies. In gorgeous hues the sunset dies. The starry diamonds greet the eyes, Idaho, O, Idaho! Such is our wondrous mountain home, Idaho, O, Idaho! And far away we ne'er would roam, Idaho, O, Idaho! Oh "Land of Liberty," we tell, Beneath a starry flag we dwell; One star is ours, we love it well, Idaho. O. Idaho! THE OLD ()UE(JOX TRAIL 125 Invocation By Dean Hinks Address By F. R. Coffin Unveiling Monument Esther Gregory, Louise Morrison, Edna Perrault, and Elizabeth Hays. Song "Star Spangled Banner" By male quartet, composed of P. E. Tate, C. R. Davis, L. W. Thrailkill, and M. R. McFerrin. Presentation on behalf of the school, Prof. J. E. Williamson Address By Ezra Meeker The "Trail Marker," of Puyallup, Wash. Hymn "America" By the Audience. My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, — Of thee I sing: Land where my fathers died, ♦ Land of the pilgrims' pride, From everj' mountain side Let freedom ring I My native country, thee, — Land of the noble, free, — Thy name I love: I love thy rocks and rills. Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Our fathers' God, to thee, Author of liberty, — To thf-e we sing: Long may (jur land b(> bright With fi-cedom's holy light; Protect us hy thy might, Great God, our King. 12(3 THE OX TEAM OR The citizens of Boise also paid for tlie stone planted on the site of the old fort and also for one planted on the Trail, near the South Boise school buildini^'s, all of which were native granite shafts of which there is a large supply yvij suit- able for such work. TWIN FALLS, IDAHO. At Twin Falls, 537 miles out from The Dalles, funds were contributed to place an inscribed stone in the track of the old Trail a mile from the city, and a granite shaft was accordingly ordered. AMERICAN FALLS, IDAHO. l^pou my arrival at American Falls, Idaho, 049 miles out from The Dalles, a condjiuation was quickly formed to erect a cement shaft twelve feet high to plant in the track of the Trail, and a park was to be dedicated wliere the monu- ment is to T^itand and a section of liie old Trail preserved. POCATELLO, IDAHO. The ladies' study club has undertaken the work to erc^ct a monument at Pocatello, Idaho, 07(> mih^s out from The Dalles. 1 made twenty- THE OI.D OKEGON TRAIL 127 three addresses to the school cliildren on behalf of the work before leaving, and have the satis- faction of knowini;- the undertaking has been vigorously proseeuled, and that a fine nionuinent will soon be in ])lace on the high school grounds. SODA SPRINGS, IDAHO. At KSoda vSprings, 739 miles from The Dalles, the next place wliere an attempt was made to erect a monument, a committee of citizens under- took the work, collected the funds to erect a mon- ument by one of those beautiful bubbling soda s]H'ings, wliich is in tin; park and on the Trail. MONTPELIER, IDAHO. Montpelier prov(Ml no exception to what ap- ])ar('ntly had become the rule. A committee of tbrcc was appointed by tlie commercial club to lake cliarge of the work of erecting a monument, 'A contribution from members and citizens so- licited, nearly |30 collected ^and paid into the bank, and arrangements made for increasing the conlribntions and coniineting tbe monnment were made before tlie team arrive*!. A y)leasant feature of the occasion was tlie call- ing of a meeting of llie woman's cinb al llie 128 THE OX TEAM OK Hiiiit(T hotel, where I Avas stopping, and a reso- lution j)asse(l to thoroughly canvass the town for aid in the work, and to interest the school children. THE MAD BULL. I quote from my journal : ''June 7, up at 4 :30 ; started at 5 :30 ; arrived at Montpelier 11:00 a.m. ... A dangerous and exciting incident occurred this forenoon when a vicious bull attacked the team, first from one side and then the other, getting in between the oxen and causing them to nearly upset the wagcm. I Axas finall}' thrown down in the melee, but escaped unharmed," and it was a narrow escape from being run over by l)oth team and Avagon. THE WOUNDED BUFFALO. ^ . This incident reminded me of a "scrap(^" one of our neighboring trains got into on the Platte in 1852 Avith a Avoun«led buifalo. The train had enc(Mintered a large lici-d feeding and traveling at right anglers to tlie road. The older heads of tli(^ party, fearing a stam])ede of their teams, had given orders not to molest tlu^ buffaloes, but to give their Avht/le attention to carc^ of the teams. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 129 But Olio impulsive young follow would uot be restrained and fired into the herd and wounded a large bull. Either in anger or from confusion the mad bull charged upon a wagon filled with women and children and drawn by a team of iinilos. He became entangled in the harness and on the tongue between the mules. An eye-witness described the scene as "exciting for awhile." It woubl bo natural for the women to scream, the chibirou to cry, and the men to halloa, but the practical (luostion was how to dispatch the bull witlwrnt shooting the mules as well, ^^'hat with multii>licity of counsel, tlio independent action of every ones each having a plan of liis own, there soomod certain to be some fatalities from the gun- sliots of the largo crowd of trainmen who had forgotten tlioir own teams and rushed to the wagon in li'oubh'. As in tliis incident of my own, jnst i-clated. notliing was harmed and no one was hni-1, bnt wlicii il was over all agreed it was past uiKb'i-standing bow il came about there was no loss of life or bodily injury. COKEVILLE, WYOMING. Cokeville, SO(M I miles out on Hie Trail from The Dalles, and near I he junction of the Sublet 130 THE OX TEAM OR cut-off with the more southerly trail, resolved to have a uionumeut, and arrangements were com- pleted for erecting one of stone from a nearby quarry that will bear ^^■ituess for many centuries. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 131 CHAPTER XV. . The Ox Team Monument Expedition Continued. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. FKO.M Coki'ville to racitic Springs, just west of the suiiuiiit of the Koekj' iiioimtaiDS at Hoiith Pass, hv tlic road and trail we traveled, is 158 mih'S. Ninety miles of this stretch is away from the sound of the locomotive, the click of the telegra})!!, or the hello girl. It is a great ex- tension of that grand mountain range, the Rock- ies, from six to seven thousand feet above sea hivel, with scant vegetable growth, and almost a solitude as to habitation, save here and there a sheep-herder or his typical wagon might be dis- covered. TIkj bold coyote, tlu^ simjde antelope, and the cunning sage hen still hold their sway as they did fifty-four j'^ears ago, when I first trav- ersed the country. The old Trail is tliere in all its grandeur. "Why mark that Trail?" T exclaim. Miles and miles of il N\'oni so deep (lial eeiil iiries of slonn will ii(»l eri'ace it; general ictus inay jkiss and llie 132 THE OX TEAM OR origin of the Trail become a legend, but the marks will be there to perplex the wondering eyes of those ^\'ho people the continent ten cen- turies hence, ay, a hundred centuries, I am ready to sav. We wonder to see it worn fifty feet wide THE OLD OKKGOX TRAIL. and tliree feet deep and hasten to take snap shots at it with kodak and camera. But what about it later, after we are over the crest of the mountain? We see it a hundred feet wide and fifteen feet deep, wlicre the tramp of tliousands TIIK Or.n OHKOON TRAir. loo upon thousands and the hoofs of millions of ani- mals and the wheels of untold nund>ers of ve- \nrWs has loosened the soil and the fierce winds have carried it away, and finally we find ruts a foot dc'C]) worn into the solid rock. "What a miiihiv moveuKnt, this over the old Oregon l;(l(■|\^ Mill N IAIN s(i;m:uv. Trail," we cxclaiui lime and agaiu, each time wilii gi'calcr womh'i-mcul al I he iiiai'vcls \{'\ lo he seen, aiMl hear the slorics of the few \*'\ h'fl of lliosc who saw, tell, ami iK-ai-tl. \(M- do wi' cscajx' li-oiii this solitude f fo^i* "'^'^i 1ass for sev- eral miles without i-caiiziiig he lias ]>assed the dividing line lietwceii the waters of the Pacific on the one side and •»(' the (lull' of .Me\ic(» on the 138 THE OX TEAM OR other, while traveling over a broad, oj)en, undu- lating prairie the approach to which is by easy grades and the descent (going east) scarcely noticeable. Certainly, if my memory is worth anything, in 1852, some of our party left the road but a short distance to find banks of drifted snow in low places in July, but none was in sight on the level of the road as we came along in June of 1906. This was one of the landmarks that looked fa- miliar, as all who were toiling west looked upon this spot as the turning point in their journey, and that the^^ had left tlie worst of the trip be- liind them, — poor, innocent souls as we were, not realizing that our mountain climbing in the Avay of rough roads only began a long way out west of the summit of the Rockies, THE OliU OUEGON TKAIL 139 CHAPTER XVI. The Ox Teai^i Monument Expedition Continued. SWEETWATER. Til J'] ^>;i.l•ht of t^^^■eetwat('L• river, twenty miles (Hit from tiie Pass, revived many pleasant tiiciiiories and soiiu; sad. I could remember the sparkling, clear water, the green skirt of under- growth along the banks and the restful camps as we ti'U(1g(d ab)ng up the stream so many years ago. And now 1 see the same channel, the same Iiills, and a])])arently the same waters swiftly j>assing; but where are the campfires; where the herds of gaunt catth'; where the sound of the din (»r liclls; tlic lialloNving for lost children; the nirsiiig of iralc ox drivers; the ])leadiiig for iiiei'cv from some humane dame for (he lialf-fam- ished (liiiiib brute; the harsh souiuls from some violin in cam]); ihe merry shout of thoughtless (liiblr<'n ; or Hk Utile groui)S off on th(i hillside to liui'v th(! dead? All gone. An o])pressive silence |>re\;iiled as we drove down to the riv^er and l»i(che in '52 with hundreds of eanips ahead of yon. One ninst take what he eonUT get, and that in many eases would he far back from the water and removed from other conveniences. The sight and smell of the carrion so common in cani])ing places in our first trip was gone; no bleaclKMl l>ones (wen sliowed where the exhausted dundt brute liad died ; the graves of the dead emi- grants had all been leveled by the hoofs of stock and the lai)se of time. '^AVhat a mighty change !" I exclaimed. AA'e liad l)een following the old Trail for nearly 150 miles on the west slope of the mountains with scai'ce a vestige of civilization. Out of sight and hearing of railroads, telegraphs, or telephones and nearly a hundred miles with- out a ])ostoflfice. Tt is a misnomer to call it a "slope." It is n(^arly as high an altitude a hun- dred miles west of the summit as the summit it- self. The country remains as it was fifty-four years b(^fore. The Trail is there to be seen miles and miles ahead, worn bare and deep, with but one narrow track where there used to be a dozen. Tin; ()LI> OUKCOX TRAIL 141 and with the beaten ]>alli so solid that vegetation has not vet reeoNcred from the scourge of pass- ing Iioofs and tires of wagon vears ago. Like as in 1851* wlien the summit was passed I felt that my task was mueh more than half done, though the distanee was scarcely half compassed. I felt we Avere entitled to a rest even though it was a solitude, and so our preparations were nmde for two days' rest if not recreation. The two days passed and we saw but three persons. We traveled a week on tliis stretch, to encounter five ])ersons only, and to see hut one wagon, but our guide to point ilie way was at hand all the lime — a pioneer way a hundred feet wide and in ])bices ten feet deep, we could not mistake. Our way from this Camj) No. SI on Sweetwater led us from the river and over hills for fifty miles before we were back to the river again. Not so my Ti-ail of 'r)2, for then we followed the river closer and crossed it several times, while ]>art of the ]>eople Avent over the hills and made the se<-- (»nd I rail. II was on this last stretch we set onr 1.(MK» mile post as we reaehcd iieai'ly the snmmit of a Vi'vy long hill, eighteen miles w<'st of where we again eii'onnlei-ed the river, saw a telegraph line, and a i(' 144) aiid iiulep{'ii(l(»iRe Kock a few iiiilcs dis- taut are probably the two best known laudniarks on the Trail, — the one for its grotesqne and strik- inj^ scenic eliect. Here, as at Split Rock, the mountain seems as if it had been split apart, leav- inj; an opening a few rods Avide and nearly five hundred feet high, through wbicli the Sweetwater river jtonrs as a veritable torrent. The river first ai>|>r<>arli('s lo witliin a few hundred feet of the ga]), >\r Iheir teams tlirongli this gap are sim])ly mistaken. Ut\- it "s a leal no mortal man has (hme oi- can do. no more than the\- coidd drive up the falls of the Niagara. 10 DEVIL'S GATE. THE OT,I) OREGON TRAIL 145 This 3'ear, on my 190G trip 1 did (•laiid)er tlirouj^Ii on the left bank, over bonlders head high, under slielving rooks where the sparrows' nests were in full possession, and ate some ripe wild .i'oos(4)erries from the liushes growing on the bor- der of the river, and plucked some beautiful wild roses, this on the 2d day of July, A.D. 1906. I wonder why those wild ros(\s grow there Avhere nobody will see them? Wh}" thes(^ sparrows' nests? Why did this river go througli this gorges instead of bi'caking tlie l)jn'rier a little to the soutli where the easy road runs? These (pies- tions run through my mind, and why I kiu)W not. The gap tlirough the mountains looked familiar as I s])ied it from the distance, l)ul tlie road-bed t<» the right I had forgotten. T longed to see this place, for here, somewhere under the sands, lies all that was mortal of a br(>ther, Tlark Sleeker, drowned in the Sweetwatei- in 1S,")4 while at- tempting to cross the Plains; would 1 be able to see and identify the grave? No. I <|iiot(' Iroiii my journal : "C'am|» \o. sc, .Inly 2, odomet<'r l/J.'iO. This cam]) is at 'i'oni Sun's ])lace, tlie Snu postolVice, A\ yoniing, and is in S. .'{5, T. 20 N., K. ST, «; I». :\I. and il i^ onc-lialf mile lo tli*' u]>|»('r end of tiic 146 THE OX TEAM OR Devil's Gate (see illustration, page 144), through Avhieh the Sweetwater ruus. The passage is not more than 100 feet wide and is 1,300 feet through with walls 483 feet at highest point. The altitude is 5,800.27, according to the United States geo- logical survey marks. It is one of nature's mar- vels, this rift in the mountain to let the waters of the . Sweetwater through. Mr. Tom Sun, or Thompson, has lived here thirty-odd years and says there are numerous graves of the dead pio- neers, but all have been leveled by the tramp of stock, 225,000 of cattle alone having passed over the Trail in 1882 and in some single years over half a million sheep. But the Trail is deserted now,-' and scarcely live wagons pass in a week with part of th(» road-bed grown up in grass. That mighty movement, tide shall we call it, of sulfering humanity first going west, accom- panied and afterwards followe\'est a symbol of the Christian faith. Among the thickly inscribed names, T made on the hard granite the impression of a large cross, which I covered with a black prei>aration of India rubber, well calculated to resist the intiueuce of wind and rain. It stands amidst the iiauies of many wlio have long since founf Southampton, Loi'd Arundel, and othei's; and iu the uai'ralive of their discoveries lie sa.Ns : •'i'lie next (lay, we asceuded iu oui- pin- nace thai part of the rivei* whidi lies more {a the westward, can-xiug willi us a ci'oss — a thing 150 THE OX TEAjNI OR Uiixev omitted by any Christian travclci- — whicli we erected at tiie nJtimate end of onr route.' TIu8 Avas in tlie year i()()5; and in 1842 I obeyed the feeling of early traveler's, and left the impres- sion of the cross deeply engraved on the vast rock 1,000 miles beyond the Mississippi, to which discoverers have given the national name of L'ock Indepcmlcncc."' The reader will note that Fremont writes in 1842 of the name, "'to which discoverers have given the national name of Independence Eock," showing that the naming of the Hock long ante- dated his visit, as he had inscribed the cross "amidst the names of many." Of recent years the traveled road leads to the left of the Hock, going eastward, instead of to the right and nearer the left bank of the Sw(h4- water, as in early years; and so I selected a s[)ot on the westward sloping face of the stone for the inscription, "Old Oregon Trail, 1843-57," near the present traveled road wliere people can see it, as shown in the illustration, and inscribed it with as deep cut letters as we could make with a dulled cold chisel, and painted the sunken letters with the best of sign writers' paint in oil. On this expedition, Avhere possible, I have in like THE OLD OUECiON TKAIL 151 luauiH'i' inscribed ii imiiiltei- of boulders, with ])aint only, which, it is to be hoped, before the iNi)i;i'i;.\i)i:.Nt'i', kock. life (if Ihc ]»aiiil b;is ^oiic <»iil, may iiitd b)\iiii;' bands |(» iiisciilM- (Iccp into (be sloiic; bill here 152 THE OX TEAM OR on this huge boulder I hope the iuseription may hist for centuries, tlioui>li not as deeply cut as I would have liked had we but had suitable tools. FISH CREEK. Eleven miles out from Independence Rock w(; nooned on the bank of a small stream, W(dl named Fish creek, for it literally swarmed with fish of suitable size for the pan, but they would not bite, and we had no appliances for catching with a net, and so consoled ourselves with the exclamation they were suckers only, and we didn't care, but I came away with the feeling that maybe we were "snckers" ourselves for hav- ing wet a blanket in the attempt to seine them, got into the water over boot top deep, and worked all the noon liour instead of resting as like an ehh'rly person should and as like the oxen did. NORTH PLATTE RIVER. Our next camp brought us to the North Platte river, flft(HMi miles al)()ve the town of Casper. F quote from my journal : "Camp No. 89, North Platte river, July 5, 1906, odometer 1 ,101, distance traveled twenty-two miles. THE OLD OUEGON TRAIL 153 "A\'c followed Hie old Trail till near 4 :00 I'.^L aud then eaine to the forks of the traveled road, with the Trail iintraveled by any one going straight ahead between the two roads. I took the right-hand road, fearing the other led off too far north, and anyway the one taken wonld lead us to the North IMatte river; and on the old Trail there \\onld be no water, as we were informed, until we reached Casper. We did not arrive at the Platte river until after dark, and then found tlicrc was no feed; got s(M) miles from Kem- mercr, and had fed (hem the lasl of it in the after- noon ; went to bed in the wagon, first watering the cattle, after dark, from the North Platte, w hieli I had not seen for over fifty-four years, as I IiaUE(;oX TUAIL 157 PUYALLUP—TACOMA— SEATTLE. Tliis rcfreshiiij; shade and these spreading balms carried me baelv to tlie little cabin home in the Puyalhip valley, 1,500 miles away, where we had for so long a period enjoyed the cool sliades of the native forests, enlivened by the cliarms of songsters at ])eep of day, with the dri])- piiig dew off the leaves like as if a shower had fallen o\('r Ihe forest. Having now passed the 1,200-111 ih' mark (mt from The Dalles, with scarcely the vestige of timber life, except in the snows of the 151ne iiiouiilaiiis, one can not wonder thai my mind shonld rnn back to not only the liltlc cabin home as well as to the more preten- tious residence near by; to the time when onr hoiiiestead of 100. acres, granted iis by this great government (►f the jjcople, was a dense forest; when the litlle clearing was so isolated we could see naught else but wails of limber around lis; tiiiibfi- I hat i-e(|uire(l the lalior of one man twelve years to i-fiuovc il olf a (|iiarl('r section of land; of the lime when trails only i-eached the spot; w hen, as I 11" |»oct w role, "Oxen answered well for team, Thougli now they'd l)e too slow;" wlicii tlic seuiiiuoiii lil\ mail was eagerly looked 158 THE OX TEAM OR for; wlic'U the Tiihunc would be reread again aud again before the new supply came; when the morning hours before breakfast were our only school hours for the children; when the home- made slioe pegs and the home-shaped shoe lasts ans\\'ered for making and mending the shoes, and the home-saved bristle for the waxed end; when the Indians, if not our nearest neighbors, I had liked to have said our best; when the meat in the l)arrel and the Hour in the box, in spite of the most strenuous elt'orts, would at times run low; A\'hen the time for labor would be much nearer eighteen than eight hours a day. "Hujjpcr.^^ Supper is ready; and wlnm re- ]>eated in more imperative tones, I at last awake to inhale the fragrant flavors of that most deli- cious beverage, camp Goifee, from the INIocha and Java mixed grain that had "just come to a boil," and to realize tlun-e was sometliing else in the air when tlie l»ill of fare was scanned. MENIT. Calf's liver, fried crisp, with bacon. Coffee, Avith cream, aud a lump of bu( t(M' added. Lettuce, with vin(\gar and sugar. Young onions. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 159 ]>oiled 3'oung carrots. Kadishes. Beets, covered with ^iuegar. Cornmeal mush, cooked forty minutes, iu re- sen'e and for a breakfast fry. These ^'delicacies of the season," coupled with the — what shall I call it? — delicious appetite in- cident to a strenuous day's travel and a late sup- per hour, without a dinner padding in the stom- ach, aroused me to a sense of the necessities of th'c inner man, and to that keen relish incident 1() prolonged exertion and an open-air life, and Justice was meted out to the second meal of the day following a 5:00 o'clock breakfast. I awoke also to the fact fhat I was on the spot ncjir where T liad camped fifty-four years ago in this same Platte valh'y, then apparently almost a desert. Now what do I sec^? As we drew into ramp two mowing machines cutting the alfalfa; two oi' more teams raking the cured hay to the rick, and a liuge fork or rake at intervals climb- ing the steep incline of fenders to above the top of the rick, and depositing its equivalent of a wagon-load at a tiine. To my right, as we drove through the gnte the large garden looked tempt- ingly near, as did some rows of small fruit. ITay 11 160 THE OX TEAM OK ricks dotted the field, and onthouses, barns, and dwellings at the home. AVe are in the midst of plenty and the guests, we may almost say, of friends, instead of feeling we mnst deposit the trusted rifle in convenient place while we eat. Yes, we will exclaim again, ''What wondrous changes time has wrought!" But my mind will go back to the little ivy- covered cabin now so carefull}^ preserved in Pio- neer Park in the little pretentious city of Pu- yallup, that was once our homestead, and so long our home, and wlien^ the residence still stands near by. The timber is all gone and in its place brick blocks and pleasant, modest homes are found ; where the roots and stumps once occupied the ground now smiling fruit gardens adorn the landscape and fill the purses of 400 fruit grow- ers, and supply the wants of 4,000 people. In- stead of the slow, trudging ox team, driven to the market town sixteen miles distant, with a day in camp on the way, 1 see fifty-four railroad trains a day thundering through the town. I see elec- tric lines with crowded cars carrying passengers to tide water and to that rising city of Tacoma, but seven miles distant. I see a quarter of a million peoph^ within a radius of thii'ty miles, THE OLD OREGON TIIAIL 161 where .solitude reigued supreme fifty-four j^ears ago, save tlie song of tlie Indians, tlie tliunip of his eanoe paddle, or the din of his gandding rev- els. AA'hen I go down to the Sound I see a mile of shii)ping docks where before the waters rip- pled over a pebbly beaeli tilled with shell tish. I look farther, and see hundreds of steamers plying hither and yon on the great inland sea, where fifty-four years ago the Indian's canoe only noise- lessly- skimmed the water. I see hundreds of sail vessels that whiten every sea of the globe, being either towed liere and there or at dock, receiving or discharging cargo, where before scarce a dozen had in a year ventured the voyage. At the docks of Seattle I see the 28,000-ton steamers receiving their monster cargoes for the Orient, and am re- minded that these monsters can enter any of the numerous harbors of Puget Sound and are su])- plciiiciilcd by a great array of oilier sleaiii (<>u- nag«* contending for (bat vast a<-ross-sea Irade, an«l again exchiiiii willi greater woncb'rmeut llian ever, ''Wlial \v(mi(1i'ous elianges lime lias wrought!" Tf T look through the channels of Puget Sound, 1 yet see the forty islands or more; its sixfeen Inimlred miles of sliore line; its schools of tisli. an«l at iiilei-vals (lie seal; i(s myriads of 162 THE OX TEAM OR sea gulls; the hawking crow; the elam beds; the ebb and flow of the tide, still there. But many happy homes dot the shore line where the dense forests stood; the wild fruits have given way to the cultivated; train-loads of fruit go out to dis- tant markets; and what we once looked upon as barren land now gives i)lenteous crops; and v^'e again exclaim, ''What wondrous changes time has wrought," or sluill we not say, "What Avondrous changes the hand of man has Avrought I" But I am admonished I have wandered and must needs get back to our narrative 1852-190G. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 163 CHAPTEK XIX. The Ox Teajsi Monument Expedition Continued. FORT LARAMIE, WYOMING. T (2U0TE from my joui-iial : 1 "Camp No. 1)!), -Inly 10, Fort Laramie, odom- eter 1,247. Fi-om the time we crossed tlie Mis- souri ill May, 1852, until we arrived opposite this ])hiee OD the north bank of the Phitte, no place or name was so univ^ersally in the minds of the emi- grants as okl Fort Laramie; here, we eagerly looked for letters tliat never came — maybe our fiicnds and relativ(^s had not written; maybe they lijid and the letter lost or dumped somewhere in 'The States'; but now all hope vanished to hear froui home till the loni»' journey was ended and :i missive reach us by the Isthmus or maybe by a sail vessel ai-omid ('ai)e IIoriL Now, as I write, I kuow my hotter written in the morning will at iiiiiiit Ixi on the banks of tin; great river, and so foi- each day of the year. One never ceases to ex- claim, '^\'Ila( cliauiit's time has wroint nearly o})posite that iioicd landmark, Scolts P>lurf, on tlie right bank, looiiiiiiu ii|» near eight linndred feet above the river and adjoining green lields, anlic(l I lie blnll's and seel ion of Ihe i"iver. Pi-oltaldy iM> emigrant of early days bnt re- mcndicrs Scol isblnl'f, wliicli could lie seen for so THE OLD OllEGON TRAIL 167 loug a distciuee, uud yet appareutly so near for (lays and days, till it finally sank out of sight as we passed on, and new objects came into view. Like as witli Turtle Rock (see illustration) the formation is sand and clay cemented, yet soft enough to cut easily, and is constantly changing in smaller details. \Ve certainly saw Scottsblutf while near the junction of the two rivers, over a hundred miles distant, in that illusive phenomenon, the mirage, as plainly as when within a few miles of it. Speaking of this deceptive manifestation of 2 the mirage was of THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 169 coiiimou uccuiix'uce aud uow, if seeu at all, is rare. The origin of the name of Scottsbluff is not definitely known, but as tradition runs, "a trader named Scott, while returning to the states, was roiihcd and stripped by the Indians. He crawled to these bluffs and there faniisluMl, and his bones were afterw ards found and buried," these quoted words havinii been written by a passing emigrant on the s])(>t, June 11, 1852. As I passed, stories were told me of same imv>or( but shifting the time to 1800. THE DEAD OF THE PLAINS. From Ihe "illiilfs" we drove as direct as pos- sible to that liistut for the handiwork of souu^ un- known fi-ieihl or rchilive, tliis gi-ave, like thou- sands and tlionsands of others who fell by th(^ waysid(- in those sti-ennons d;iys, this gi-ave would lia\'e pnssed (»ut (tf sight and mind iiiMJ neslled in soiilU(h- ;ind unknown foi- :ill ages to conu'. As \':\v b;itk ;is the nieini*o|iriale name, as like a clMU'ch spii'e (sec illnst i-al ion L tali and slim, Ihe woiidei- of all how it comes the hand of time has not JcNeled it loim a^o and mingled its ciMini 174 THE OX TEAM OR bling substauce with that lying at its base. The whole pile, like that at Scottsbluff and Court House llook further down, is a sort of soft sand- stone, or cement and clay, gradually crumbling aAvay antl destined to be leveled to the earth in centuries to come. A local story runs that an army officer trained artillery on this spire, shot off about thirty feet of the top, and was afterwards court-martialed and discharged in disgrace from the army; but I could get no definite information, though re- peated again and again. It would seem incred- ible that an intelligent man, such as an army officer, would do such an act, and if he did he deserved severe condemnation and punishment. I noticed that at Soda Springs the hand of the vandal had been at work, and that interesting ]>heuomenon, tlie Steamboat Spring, the wonder- ment of all in 1Miat about coming up out of Little Canyon over, or rather up the steep rocky steps of stones like veritable stairs, when I used tlu» goad, and he pulled a sho(i oft" aud his feet from under liiui? A>'as 1 uierciful then or did I exact more tJian I ought? I can see him yet in my mind, while on his knees holding the wagon from rolling back into the canyon till the wheel could be blocked and the brakes set. Then Avhen bid to start the load, he did not flinch. He was the best ox I ever saw, without exception, and his loss has nearly broken np the expedition, and it is one case Avhere his like can not be replaced. He has had a decent burial, and a head-board will mark his grave and recite his achievements in the valuable aid rendered in this expedition to perpetuate the memory of the old Oregon Trail and {iw which he has given up his life." THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 179 CHAPTEK XXI. The Ox Team Monument Expedition Continued. WHAT sliall I do? Abandon the work? No. lUit 1 can not go on with one ox and can not in all this country find another, and I can not lay here. And so a horse team was hired to take ns to the next town, Gothenburg — thirteen miles distant, and the lone ox led behind the wagon. GOTHENBURG, NEBRASKA. •'(lothciiluu'g, Nebraska, August 10, lt)0(>, ('ami) No. 121, odouieter 1,540. The people here resolved to erect a mouuiiieut, appointed a com- mittee, and some fiflccu dollars conlributiou was secured. LEXINGTON. Again liii'cd a horse leaiii to haul the wagon to Lexington. A1 Lexiuglo'i I thonglil (o i-e- paii' til'' loss of the o\ by haying a pair of heavy cows an«l breaking Iheni into work, and s(» purehased two on( of a itand of liOO cattle near 180 THE OX TEAM OR by. ^M'hj, yes, of course they will work/ I said, when a bystander had asked the (iiiestiou. 'Why, 1 have seen whole teams of cows on the Plains in ■52, and they would trip along so merrily one BREAKING THE COWS. Avould be tempted to turn the oxen out and get eowa. Yes, we will soon have a team,' I said, 'only we can't go very far in a day with a raw teauf, especially in tliis hot weather.' But one of the cows would n't go at all; we could not lead THE OLD OREGON TIIAIL 181 or drive her. Tui lier iii tlu; yoke aud she would staud stock still just like a stubborn luule. Hitch the yoke by a stroug rope behiud the wagou Avith a horse team to pull, she would brace her feet aud actually slide along, but would n't lift a foot. I never saw such a brute before, and hope I never will again. I liave broken wild, fighting, kick- ing steers to the yoke and enjo3-ed the sport, but from a sullen tame cow deliver me. ''Won't you take her back and giv(; me an- other?" I asked. ''Yc^s, I will give you that red cow (one 1 had rejected as unlit), but not one of the others." ''Then what is this cow worth to you?" Back came the response, "Thirty dol- lars," and so I dropi^'d ten dollars (having paid him forty), lost the better i)art of a day, expe- rienc'd a good deal of vexation, and came away witli I he exclamalioii, "Oh, if 1 could but liav(^ Twist back again." The fact gradually dawned u[)()n mv. lln; loss of that fine ox was almost irreparable. I could not get ti-ack of an ox anywhere nor of even a steer large enongli 1o male the Dave ox, the on(! T liad left, l^esides. 1)ave always was a fool. T conld scarcely leach him anvMiing. lie did learn lu li;i\v. bv Ihe woi'd when on (he off siiiMts went down Itelow a noruial coiidjl ion. 184 THE OX TEAM OR But tlieu caiuc the coinpeusatory thought as to what had been accomplished ; how three states had responded cordially and a fourth as well, considering the sparse population. How could 1 account for the difference in the reception? It was the press. In the first place the newspapers took up the work in advance of my coming, wliihi in the latter case the notices and commendation followed my presence in a town. And so I quer- ied in my mind as we trudged along, — after all, I am sowing the seed that will bring the harvest later. Then my mind would run back along the line of over 1,500 miles, where stand nineteen sentinels, mostly granite, to proclaim for the cen- turies to come that the hand of communities had been at work and i^ilanted these shafts that the memory of the dead pioneers might live; where a dozen boulders, including the great Independ- ence Rock, also bear this testimony, and where a hundred ^^•oo(len posts mark the Trail where stone was unobtainable; the cordial reception in so many places; to the outpourings of contribu- tions of 3,000 school children ; to the liberal hand of the people that built these monuments ; to the more than 20,000 people attending the dedication ceremonies. And while I trudged and thought I THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 185 forgot all about Twi.st, the recalcitrant cow, the dileuiuia that confronted me, to awake from my reverie in a more cheerful mood. "Do the best you can," I said almost in an audible tone, "and be not cast down," and my spirits rose almost to the point of exultation. 186 THE OX TEAM OR CHAPTEE XXII. The Ox Team Monument Expedition Concluded. KEARNEY, NEBRASKA. AT THAT beautiful city of Kearney we were aecorded a fine camping place in the center of the town nnder the spreading bonghs of the shade trees that line the streets, and a nice green, fresh-cnt sward upon which to pitch our tents. The peoi)le came in great numbers to visit the camp and express their approval a.^ to the objects of the trip. I said, "Here, we will surely get a s])lendid monument"; but when I came to consult with the Inisiness men not one could be found to give np any time to the work, though many seemed interested. The president of the com- mercial club even refused to call a meeting of the club to consider the subject, because he said he had no time to attend the meeting and thought most of the members would be the same. I did not take it this man was opposed to the proposed work, bnt honestly felt there were more impor- tant matters pressing npon the time of business THE OLD OREGON TKAIL 187 men, and said the subject could be taken up at their regular meeting in the near future. As 1 left this man's office, who, I doubted not, had spoken the truth, I wondered to myself if these busy men Avould ever find time to die. How did they find time to eat? or to sleep? and I queried, Is a business man's life worth the living if nil Ills wakeful moments are absorbed in grasping for gains? r>ut I am admonished that this query must be answered each for himself, and [ reluc- tanlly came away from Kearney without acconi- l)lishing the object of my visit, and wondering whether my mission Avas ended and results hnislied. The reaiU'r will readily see that I would be the more willing listener to such an inner sug- gestion, in view of my crippled condition to carry on the work. And might not that condition have a bearing to bring about such results? No. For the ])eople seemed to be greatly interested and syni])athetic. Tiie press was particularly kind in their notices, commending the work, but it takes time to arouse the business men to action, as one remarked to me, "You can't hurry us to do anything; we ar(» not that kind of a set." Tliis was said in a t(me bordering on the olfeii- sive, though perhaps expressing only a truth. 188 THE OX TEAM OR GRAND ISLAND. I did not, however, feel willing to give up the work after having accomplished .so much on the 1,700 miles traveled, and with less than 200 miles ahead of me, and so I said, "I will try again at Grand Island," the next place where t]ier(? was a centc^r of population, that an effort A\'ould probably succeed. Here I soon found there was a decided public sentiment to take action, but at a later date — next year — jointly to honor the local pioneers upon the occasion of the liftieth anniversary of the settlement around and about the city, and so, this dividing the at- tention of the people, it was not thought best to undertake the work now, and again I bordered on the slough of despondency. I could not repeat the famous words, I would "fight it out on this lini' if it takes all summer," for here it is the 30th of August, and in one day more summer will be gone. Ninther could I see how to accomplish more than prepare the way, and that now the press is doing, and sowing S(?ed upon kindly ground that will in the futun? doubtless bring forth abundant harvest. Gradually the fact became uppermost in my mind that 1 was powerless to move; that my THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 189 team was goue. No response came to the ex- tensive advertisements for an ox or a yoke of oxen, showing clearly there were none in the country, and that the only way to repair the damage was to get unbroken steers or cows and break them in. This could not be done in hot w(^ather, or at h^ast cattle unused to work could not go under the yoke and render effective service without seasoning, and so, for the time being, the work on the Trail was suspended. As I write in this beautiful grove of the "old court house grounds," in the heart of this embryo city of Grand Island, with its stately rows of shade trees, its modest, elegant homes, the bustle an; colonies are gone; the buf- falo are gone; the antelope have disappeared; as likewise the Indian. Now all is changed. In- stead of the parched plain we saw in 1852 with its fierce clouds of dust rolling ui> the valley and engulting Avholc trains till not a vestige of them could be seen, we see the landscape of smiling, fruitful fields, of contented homes, of inviting clumps of trees dotting the landscape. The hand of man lias changed what w(i looked upon as a barren plain to that of a fruitful laud. AVhere tlien there were only stretches of buffalo grass now waving fields of grain and great fields of corn send forth abundant liarvests. Yes, we may again exclaim, "'WJiat wondrous changes time has wrouiihtl" Tin: ()ij» ()i{i:(;(>\ tilvil 101 CHAPTEE XXIII. A CHArTER FOR CHILDREN. IWJI.L take you into my confidence, little ones, and tell you a fe\y stories, but the}' shall lie true and al)out my trips across the IMaiiis willi ox teams. Some ill tie ernes luiye innocently asked if these oxcM were co\ys. Xo, they are steers trained to work, anL', Imt we still calle(j them cows after they were laiiuhl to work. We used to milk cows on the tri|; in lS,~jL*, and ]>nt the sur- jjlns milk in a <;in in the waiion, ami at ni.nht get a nice lum|) el' fresh bntter. The jostliiiii' of t he w ;mnn would churn t he inill<. U 192 TIIIO ox TKAM OR THE ANTELOPES. One day on this trip while west of the lioeky inountaiiis, iu the state of Wjomiug, two an- teloi)es crossed the road ahoiit a hundred yards ahead of us, a buck and a doe. The doe soon dis- apijeared, but the buck came back to near the road and stood gazing at us in wonderment as if to say, "Who the miscliief are you?'' ()ur (h)g Jim soon scented him and away they went up the mountain side until Jim got tired and came back to tlie wagon, and then the an- telope stopj)ed on a little eminence on the moun- tain and A\e could see him plainly against a back- ground of sky for a long distance. Another time we actually got near enough to get a snaj) shot with our kodaks at two antelopes, but they were too far off to make good pictures. Our road led us obli(|uely uj) a gentle hill grad- ually approaching nearer the antelope. I no- ticed he would for awhile come toward us and tluMi turn around and look the other way for awhile. After awhile we saw what at first we took to ])(^ a kid, or young antelope, but soon after discovered it was a coyote wolf prowling on the track of the antelope, and he was watching both of us. Just then after I had stopped the THi: (ll-l> (tUKCOX TRAU. 103 wagon, six giicat, i»ig fat sage lieiVs were to be' seen feeding not more than twice the length of the wagon away, just like I had seen them in 1852. Animals and birds, you know, are not afraid of wliite people at first sight; it 's only after they learn of their danger they become shy, after we have wantonly mistreated them that they mis- trust us. This was way out on the Rocky moun- tains where scarcely any one lives yet, and where iho whole face of the country is nearly a mile and a Iialf above sea level. QUARREL BETWEEN JIM AND DAVE. Animals liave their likes anaid Init lit lie attention to him, but let me get into tlie wagon to drive and Jim would go over on the sint Jim wonhl manage to get even with him. Sometimes ^^'e i)nt h)Ose Imj under the wagon to kee]> it ont of tlie storm, an by Dave, as it might appear, just to pick a (luarrel with him. Then at other times he would run off first on one side of the wagon and then again the other, after birds, Jack rabbits. s(|nii-iM'ls, ov anything in tbe \v<»rld ibat (oubl get into motion. One (hiy a coyote wolf cr()ss('d tbe i'oaoked ;is tliougli -lini woiibl overtuke him, and I was diiliious as to t lie result ol'atussel between tliem. :ind calb'd Jim liack. Xo sooik'I' bad be t urned t iiiiii I lie wolf t u rued, too, and made chase. 19 G THE OX TEAM OR and here they come, nip and tiu-k as to who conld rnn the fastest. I thiidv the wolf could, but he did not catch up until they |M'i' While river, biil il was 200 THE OX TEAM OR the present site of Auburn. He had to swiui his cattle over all the rivers, and his horses, too, and then at the last day's drive brought them on the divide between Stuck river and the Sound. The cattle were all very tame when he took them into the White river valley, for they were tired and hungry. At that time White river valley was covered with brush and timber, except here and there a small prairie. The upper part of the valley was grown up with tall, coarse rushes that remained green all winter, and so he did n't have to feed his cattle, but they got nice and fat long before spring. We bought them and agreed to take twenty head at a time. Uy this time the cattle were nearly as wild as deer. So Lew built a A'ery strong corral on the bank of the river, near where Auburn is now, and then made a l)rush fence from one corner down river way, which nuide it a sort of a lane, with the fence on one side and the river on the other, and grad- ually widened out as he got further from the corral. "I used to go over from Steilacoom and stay all night, so we could make a drive into the cor- ral early, but this time I w^as belated and had to camp on tlie road, so that we did not get an early THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 201 start fov the next day's drive. The cattle seemed iiiirulv that day, and when we let them out of the corral up river way, they scattered and we couhl n't do anything- with them. The upsliot of the matter was tliat 1 had to go home without any cattle. AVe had worked with the cattle so long that it was very late before I got started and liad to go on foot. At that time the valley aliove Auburn near the Stuck river crossing was tilled with a dense forest of monster fir and cedar trees, and a good deal of underbrush besides. That forest was so dense in places that it was diflicult to see the road, even on a bright, sun- shiny day, while on a cloudy day it seemed al- most like night, though I could see well enough to keep on the crooked trail all right. "WoW, just before I got to Stuck river crossing 1 ( aiiic to a turn in the trail where it crossed the to]) of a big fir lliat had been turned up by the roots and had i alien nearly ]»arallel with the trail. The big roots held I lie butt of the tree up from the ground, and I think tlu; tree was four feet in dianu'ter a hundred feet from tlie butt, and (lie w hole body, from root to top, was eighty- foiii- steps long, or aboiil (wo liundi'ed and fifty feel. I have seen jullgel- I I'eeS lh:in Iliat, lliough, 202 THE ox TEAINI OR tmil l)iiioke about, lived about ten uiih's IVom Olympia at Glasgow's place, lie was walking on I hi' |ti'aii-i<' and luijl a stout young dog with him, and came suddeidy upon a coui^ar Iving in a corner of the fence. His dog 204 TIIK ox TIOAM OR tackled the brute at ouce, but was no match for hiiii, aud would soou have been killed if Stocking had uot interfered. jNIr. {Stockiug gathered ou to a big club and struck the cougar one heavy blow over the back, but the stick broke and the cougar left the dog and attacked his master. And so it was a life and death struggle. Mr. Stocking was a very powerful man. It A\as said that hit was double-jointed. He was full six feet high and heavy in proportion. He was a typical pioneer in health, strength, and power of endurance. He said he felt as though his time had come, but there was one, chance in a thousand, aud he; was going to take that chance. As soon as the cougar let go of the dog to tackle Stocking, the cur sneaked off to let his master tight it out alone. He had had enough tight for one day. As the cougar raised on his hind legs Stocking luckily grasped him by the throat and began kicking him in the stomach. Stocking said he thought if he could get one good Icick in the region of the heart he felt that he might settle him. I guess, boys, no football player ever kicked as hard as Stock- ing did that day. The difference was that he was literally kicking for dear life, while the player kicks only for fun. Alb this happened in less TH1-; OLD OREGON TRAIL 205 time than it takes me to tell it. Meanwhile the cougar was not idle, but was clawing away at Stocking's arms and shoulders, and once he hit him a clip on the nose. The dog finally returned to the strife and between the two they laid Mr. ('ougar low and took off his skin the next day. Mr. Stocking took it to Ulympia, where it was used for a base purpose. It was stuffed and put into a saloon and kept there a long time to at-, tract people into the saloon. "Did my cougar hurt me, did you say? I had n"t an}^ cougar and had n't lost one, and if I had been hurt I \\ ould n't have been here to tell you this story. The ftm of it was tliat the cougar had n't yet seen me, but just as soon as he did he scampered olf like the Old Harry himself was after him, and 1 strode off' down the trail like old Belzebub was after me. "Now, youngsters, before you go to bed, just bear in mind there is no danger here now from wibl animals, and there was not much then, for ill all llie liiiK! 1 have l>een here, now over fifty years, I have known of l)ut two i)ersons killed by th(?m. "And now I will tell you on(! more true story and then (piit for this time. Aunt Abbie Sumner iJOO THE OX TEAM OH one evening lieard (Jus -Johnson liallo\vin<^ at the top of his voice, a little wav ont from the lionse. Her father said (Jus was jnst drivini> np the eow'S, but Aunt Abbie said she never knew liini to make such a noise as that before, and went out within speaking distance and where she could see him at times pounding vigorously on a tree for aA\iiile an«l then turn and strike out toward the brusli and yell so loud she said she believed he could be heard for more than a mile awa}'. She soon saw something moving in the brush. It was a bear, (lus had suddenly come ui)on a bear and her cults and I'uu one of the cubs up a tree. He ]>ounded on the tree to keep it there, but ha it if they wish; l>ut 1 am going to relate true stories. •'Soon after the Indian war we moved to our donation claim, ^^o had but three neighbors, the nearest nearly two miles away, and two of them ke])t bachelor's hall and were of no account for schools. Of course, we could not see any of our neighbors' houses. ;iud could reach but one by a road aud the others by a trail. I'uder such <-onditious we coidd not have a ]Uiblic school. I y relat- ing ;iii in( mind tlial. Th(i roof THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 211 answered well for the ceiling overhead, and a log cut out on each side made two long, narrow windows for ligiii. The larger children sat with their faces to the walls, with long shelves in front of them, whih' tlie smnller tots sat on low benches near the iiiichlh' of tlie room. When the weather would ])ermit the teacher left the door open to admit more light, but had no need for more fresh air, as the roof was quite open and the cracks b<'tween llie logs let in ])lenty. "Sometimes we had a lady teacher, and then her salary was smaller, as she boarded around. That meant, some discomfort part of the time, where the surroundings were not pleasant. •'Some of those scholars are dead, some have wandered to j»ai*ts unknown, while those that are left ;n*e iiejirly nil iiKirried and ai'e grand- fallxM-s or grandmothers, but all living r(Mnem- ber tlie old log schoolhouse with alTection. This is ;i true ]>iclure, as \ re<-ollect, of the early S( lio(»| (hiys ill llic j*iiy;illii|» Xiilley, w lien, as the iinkiiow II jioct Ii;is s;iid : 'And children did a hall' day's work |{('l'<)iv' (Ik'v went If) Kcliool.' 212 THE OX TEAM OR "Xot quite so hard as that, but very uear it, as we were always up early and the children did a lot of work before and after school time. "When Carrie was afterwards sent to Portland to the high school she took her place in the class just the same as if she had been taught in a grand brick schoolhouse. 'AVhere there is a will there is a way.' . '"You must not conclude that we had no recrea- tion and that we were a sorrowful set devoid of enjoyment, for there never was a happier lot of people than these same hard-working pioneers and their families. I will now tell you something about their home life, their amusements as well as their labor. ''Before the clearings were large we sometimes got pinch(?d for both food and clothing, though I will not say we suffered much for either, though I know of some families at times who lived on l)otatoes "straiglit." Usually fish could be had in abundance, and considerable game — some bear and plenty of deer. The clothing gave us the most trouble, as but little mone^' came to us for the small quantity of produce we had to spare. I remember one winter we were at our wits' end for shoes. We just could not get money to buy THE OLD OUWJOX TKAIL 213 shoes enoiii;li to i;o around, but managed to get leather to make eaeli member of the family one pair. AVe killed a i)ig to get bristles for the wax- ends, cut the pegs from a green alder log and seasoned tliem in the oven, and made tlie lasts out of the same timbei". Those shoes were clumsy, to be sure, Ijut they k(.'pt our feet dry ani»li(Ml the musicians, reader, and orator for the celebra- lioii. Everybody had soinctliiiig to do and a voice ill sa.\iiiu what slioiibl be (b»iie, and liiat xcvy fact made all happy. "We had sixleeii iiiiles to go to oiii' market lown, Steihiconiii, ((\ci- llie i-(Migli('sl kind of a 214 TUE ox TEAM OR road. Nobody had horse teanis at the start, and so we had to go with ox teams. We could not make the trip out and back in one day, and did not have mone^^ to pay liotel bills, and so we would drive out part of the wa}' and camp and the next ]uorning drive into town very earlj^, do our trading, and, if possible, reach home the same day. If ntjt able to do this, we camped again on the road; but if the night was not too dark woubl reach home in the night. And oh! what an ap- petite we ^\'oul(l liave, and how cheery- the lire would be, and liow welcome the reception in the cabin home. ''One of the 'youngsters,' fifty years old to- morrow, after reading 'The Morning School,' writes : " 'Yes, father, your story of the morning school is just as it was. I can see in my mind's eye yet us children reciting and standing up in a row to spell, and Auntie and mother getting break- fast, and can remembei* the little bedroom ; of rising early and of reading ''I'nch^ Tom's Cabin" as a dessert to the work.' "Near where the old log cabin schoolhouse stood our high scliool building now stands, large encaigh to accommodate^ 400 pupils. In the dis- TUK OLD OREGON TUAIL 215 trict where we could count nineteen children of school age, with eleven in attendance, now we have 1,007 l)oys and girls of school age, three large schoolhouses, and seventeen teachers. The trees and stumps are all gone and l)rick huildings and other good houses occupy much of the land, and as many people now live in that school district as lived both east and west of the moimlaiiis when the Territory was created in ^iarch, 18.">o. Instead of ox teams, and some at that with sleds, tlu; ])eople have buggies and car- riages, or they can travel on any of the eighteen passenger trains that i)ass daily through Puyal- lup, or on street cars to Tacoma, and also on some of the twenty to twenty-four freight trains, some of wliicli are a third of a mile long. Such are some of tlic changes wrought in fifty years since ]>ion('er life began in the I'liyallu]) valley. "Xow, just ivy your band on Ibis song thai fol- lows, one tli;il oiii- dear obi Icacbci' bas sung so often foi- us, in couipany with one of (hose schol- ars of Ibc obi b>g ciil)iu, Mi-s. I<''ranc<'s Itcjin, now of TacoiiKi, who bas kindly sui>i>li('d tlic words :iu(l music: 216 THE OX TEAM OR "How wondrous are the changes Since fitly years ago; When girls wore woolen dresses, And boys wore pants of tow; And shoes were made of cowhide. And socks of homespun wool; And children did a half day's work Before they went to school. Chorus — "Some fifty years ago. Some fifty years ago. The men and the boys. The girls and the toys; The work and the play. And the night and the day, The world and its ways Are all turned around Since fifty years ago. "The girls took music lessons Upon the spinning wheel, And practiced late and early On spindle swift and reel. The boy would ride the horse to mill, A dozen miles or so. And hurry off before 't was day. Some fifty years ago. — Cho. "The people rode to meeting In sleds instead of sleighs, And wagons rode as easy As buggies nowadays; And oxen answered well for teams. Though now they'd be too slow; For people lived not half so fast Some fifty years ago. — Cho. "Ah! well do I remember That Wilson's patent stove. That lather bought and paid for In cloth our girls had wove; And how the people wondered When we got the thing to go. And said 't would burst and kill us all, Some fifty years ago. — Cho." TEIE OLD OREGON TRAIL 217 CHAPTER XX^ . Questions and Answers. FEOjNI the very start, questions were asked and answers s^iven, times without nund>er, one might almost sa^^, some quite pertinent while others were prompted from idle curiosity alone and became annoying. A few of these follow to show the drift of the questions, there being but a small ]>ereentage that got right down to the pith of I lie matter without prompting — the erec- tion of monuments and the teaching of history to the younger generation. The ciiihli-en in ]>articu]ar were very insistent to know all about (lie expedition, resulting in rout ribul ions from nearly three thousand of them lo local committees for erecting monuments. I'roiii the natnre of the (piestions it became evi- dciil dial Inii few of Ihc cliibli'cii knew anything ab(»iii llic old Oregon Trail oi* of the emigration, oi* what an ox was, whether some wibi animal taiiie\'ell, well, well; it i)nts me in mind of old times, sure enoui;h. jMy father drove one of Ihem across the J/lains in '51. I wasonly a chunk of a boy then, but I remember the tri]> well. (]. Of course this is n'l (lie same wa^m you ci'osscd ill, in '51*, is it? A. Oil. no; but llial liul> in llic near foi-c wliecl is fi-oni a wa^ou thai did cross (he IMaius to Oi-egon in IS."):}. Tliiil is llic oidy obi woodwork in this wa.u'on, bul you will nolice all the hub b;iii(is inid s(»ui(' oilici- parts of llic ii'(ui woi*k arc; from obi WMiioiis. ^'cs, ilic bub bands of (he bind wlieels do !!'( uinlcli (be foi-<' wheels. You sec I ii;i(| (o use ( lir rcniuMnls of (hree old \\:\ix- ons (o ucl IIm- irons fcu" (tuc, bu( llinl is in I<('c|>- iiiLi witli \\iin( \\;is (o Ix' sccu (mi IIh' I'biins aflcr 220 THE ox TEAM OR people begau to abuudou their wa<>ous. Others would come along, take a wheel or an axle to streugtlien tlieir own with. Q. Well, 1 never could see what those prairie schooner wagon-beds ^^ere made crooked for, could you? A. No, I can't say that I can, but they came in very handy in crossing rivers. They are fash- ioned just like a boat, you know, on the bottom, and answer very A^'ell for a boat. Q. But did you ever see people cross rivers in a wagon-box? A. Yes. I crossed Snake river in two places myself in 1852 in my wagon-box, but that was in an ordinary square box. Yes, I took my wagon over in it, or rather, on it, for the run- ning-gear was run over the box and gradually run out into deep water till the whole was afloat. Q. Say, Grandpap, you do n't expect them cat- tle to last you till you get to Indianapolis, do you? A. Why not? Do they look as if they were about given out? That yoke of oxen Aveighs 170 pounds more than they did when I left home. Q. M'oU. that 's a fact, they are both good beef. HoAv much did you say they weighed? THE OLD OREGON TUAIL 221 A. The luj^t time 1 weij^Iicd Iheiu they tipped the scales at 3,217 pounds. When I started from Puyallup they weighed 3,130. Q. Uncle, what the mischief are you going on this long journey for this way? Why do n't you get you a good, brisk horse team or a span of mules? Oh, say, an automobile would be just the thing, wouldn't it? A. I am going on this trip for a purpose, not for ])l('asur(' or comfort. That purpose is to arouse ]Miblic intcrc^st in and to perpetuate the memory of th" old Oregon Trail, and to honor llic pioneers Avho made it, by marking the Trail at intersections with present-traveled roads and erecting stone uionuuumts, suitably inscribed, in centers of popnlntion. You will agree with me tlie ox tejim anout, Puyalhi]*, that we know is of Indian origin — as old as the memory of white man runs. Put such a name! 1 consider it no honor to the nmn who named the town (now city) of Puyallup. I ac- cept the odium attached to inflicting that name on suffering succeeding generations by first plat- ting a few blocks of land into village lots and THE OLD OKKCON TKAIL 223 ire-ordiii"- tlieiii uiKlcr the uaiiie of Puyalliip. I have been ashamed of the act ever since. The iirst time 1 went east after the town was named and said to a friend in Xew Yorlv that our town was named Puyalhij) he seemed starth'd. 'Named \\i)at?' 'ruyallii])/ I said, ciiiphasiziiio the word. 'That 's a jaw-breaker/ came the response. 'IIow s lo- ud her 1(> cul off the "lup," I finally drilled my friend so he could i)ronounce the W(n-d, yet fell short of the eleiiance of the scientific pronunci- alioii. "Tiicii when I ci-ossed the Atlantic and across the old London brid,ii,(' to the borouju'h, and there cncoiinlci I'd I he ('jH-tors of the hoj) trade on liiat histoi'ie uvouiid, the haniits of I)i(k<'ns in his »hiy; and when we were bid (o be sealed lo pai'- lake of llie viands of an eleiiant dinner; and when I s;i\\ ilie |i-onbled b»ok of my fi'iend, whose lot w;is lo inlrodnce me lo I lie assembled lioj) mer- clninls, ;ind knew w lial was weiiihinii' on his mind. 224 THE UX TEAM OK my .syiiipatliY went out to him but remained help- less to aid him. " 'I say — I say — let me introduce to you my American friend^my Anu^rican frienlloweu<^li no very ai)pjirent reason may ap- \)VAV to call for it. I am aware that the life of an humble citizen is of not much importance to the public at large; yet, Avith a widening circle of friends following my advanced years, I feel jnstili(Ml ill recording a few of the incidents of a very busy life, and of portraying some customs hmg sinc(! fallen into disuse, and relating inci- dents of early days now almost forgotten. I was l/orn at lluntsville, Ilutler county, Ohio, which is about twenty-live miles nortli<'aslerIy of CiiH-innati, Ohio. This, to me, iuijtorlaut eveiil occurred on Dcccuiber 2!), A.l). IS^id, aure- scrvcd, fiiriiislicd moi-c lliaii a score (►f hardy soidicj-s in Hm- War for I iidcpciidciicc, and were 228 THE ox TEAM OR noted for their stalwart strength, steady habits, and patriotic ardor. My father had lost nothing of the original sturdy instincts of the stock nor of the stalwart strength incident to his ancestral breeding. I remember that for three years, at ( 'arlyle's flouring mill jn the then western sub- urbs of Indianapolis, Indiana, he worked eigh- teen hours a day, as miller. lie was required to be on duty at the mill by 7:00 o'clock, and re- mained until 10:00 o'clock at night and could not leave the mill for dinner; — all this for |20 a month and bran for the cow, and yet his health was good and strength seemed the same as when lie began the ordeal. My mother's maiden name was Phoeba Baker. A strong German strain of blood ran in her veins, but I know nothing far- ther back than my grandfather Baker, who set- tled in Butler county, Ohio, in the year 1801 or thereabouts. My mother, like my father, could and did endure continuous long hours of severe labor without much discomfort, in her household duties. I have kno^\n her frequently to patch and mend our clothing until 11 :00 o'clock at night and yet would invariably be up in the morning by 4:00 and resume her labors. THE OLD OUEGOX TRAIL 229 IJoth nn' pareuts were siuiei-e, though uot aus- tere ( hri.stiau peoi)le, my mother in particular iueliniiig to a liberal faith, but both were in early da3'S members of the "Disciples," or as sometimc^s known as "Xewlites,"" afterwards, 1 believe, merged witli the "Christian" church, pox>ularly known as the "('ampbellites," and^were ardent adiiiirci-s of Love Jameson who presided so long- over the ( liristian organization at Indianapolis, anut tlien that Avas a time liefore a free school SA'stem, and Avhen the parson Avould not hesitate to take a AAce bit, and AAdien, if the decanter AA'as not on tlic sid('l)oai'd, llic jng and gonrd served as Avell in tlie field or lionse. To har\'est Avithont THE OLD OKEGON TRAIL 231 whisky iii the held was not to be thought of; nobody ever heard of a loi^-rolliug' or barn-rais- ing witliout whisky. And so 1 will say to the zealous temperance reformers, Be of good cheer, for the world has moved in these seventy-five years. Be it said, though, to the everlasting h(jnor of my father, that he set his head firmly against the practice, and said his grain sliould rot in the field before he would supply whisky to his harvest hands, and 1 liave no recollections of ever but once tasting any alcoholic liip<', and so I woubl tai^c a wbilf or two, just to get it sijirtcd, you Unow, wlii(li, liow"e\('r, soon myself, for more than twenty years aiio 1 lliicw away my pipe and 232 THE ox TEAM OK have uever .smoked since, aud never Avill, and now to those smokers who say they "can't quit" J want to call their attention to one case of a man that did. My next recollection of school-boy days was after father had moved to Lockland, Ohio, then ten miles north of Cincinnati, now, I presume, a suburb of that ij,reat city. I played ''hookey" instead of going to school, but one day while under the canal bridge the noise of passing teams so frightened me that I ran home and betrayed m3'self. Did my mother whip me? Why, God bless her dear old soul, no. Whipping of chil- dren, though, both at home and in the school- room was then about as common as eating one's breakfast; but my parents did not think it was necessary to rule by the rod, though then their famih" government was exceptional. And so we see noAA' a different rule prevailing, and see that the world docs move and is getting better. After my father's removal to Indiana tiuu^s were "hard," as the common expression goes, and all members of the household for a season were called on to contribute their mite. I drove four yoke of oxen for twenty-five cents a day, and a part of that time boarded at home at that. THE OLD OREGON TRAIL 233 This was on the \\'abash where oak grubs grew, as father often said, "as thick as hair on a dog's back," but not so thick as that. J>ut Ave used to force the big plow through and cut grubs with the plow shear, as big as my wrist ; and when we saw a patcli of them ahead, then was when I learned how to halloo and rave at the poor oxen and in- considerately whip them, but father wouldn't let nie swear at them. Let me say parenthetically that I have long since discontinued such a fool- ish practice, and that now 1 talk to my oxen in a conversational tone of voice and use the whip s]Kiringly. ^Vhen father moved to Indianapolis, 1 think in 1838, ''times'' seemed harder than ever and I was put to work whenever an opportunity for em]»loy]nent offered, and encouraged by my motlicr to seek odd jobs and keep the money my- self, she, however, becoming my banker; and in three years I had actually accumulated |3T. ^ly! l)ut what a treasure that was to me, and wliat a bond of contidcncc between my motlier and myself, for no one else, as I thought, knew aiiythiiiLi altoul my I i-e;isiii-e. I {n[\\n\ out after- wards, Ihoiigh, dial f;ilhei- Uiiew about i( all Ihe lime. My ambition was lo get some laud. I had heard there was a loily-aei-e tract in Jleiidri.x 234 THE OX TEAM Oil coimt}' ( ludiaua) yet to be entered at |1.25 per acre, and as soon as I could get f 50 together I meant to hunt up that hind and secure it. I used to dream about that hmd day times as well as at night. 1 sawed wood twice to the cut for twenty-five cents a cord, and enjoyed the expe- rience, for at night I could add to my treasure. It was because my mind did not run on school work and because of my restless dispositicju tliat my mother allowed me to do this instead of compelling me to go to school, and which cut doANii my real s(rhool-boy days to less than six mouths. It was, to say the least, a dangerous experiment and one ^\liich only a mother (who knows her child better than all others) dare take, and I will not by any means advise other mothers to ado]jt such a course. Then when did you get your education? the casual reader may ask. I will tell you a storj^ AN'licu in 1870 I wrote my first book (long since out of print), "Washington Territory West of the Cascade Mountains," and submitted the work to the eastern public, a copy fell into the hands of Jay Cook, who then had six power presses running advertising the Northern Pacific railroad, and he at once took u}* my whole edi- THE OLIt OKKGON TKAIL 235 tioii. Mr. Cook, wlioiii J met, closely questioned me as to where I was educated. After having an- swered his uumy (lueries about ni}^ life on the frontier he would not listen to my disclaimer that I was not an educated num, referring to the work in his hand. The fact then dawned on me that it was the reading of the then current literature of the day that had taught me; and I answered tliat the Xew York Tribune had educated me, as I had then been a close reader of that paper for eigliteeu years, and it was there I got my ])ure l']uglish ossessed it. We received mails only twice a mcnith for a long time, and sometimes only once a month, and it is needless to sa}' that all the matter in the paper was read and much of it re-read and studied in the cabin Mild I tract iced in jlie field. However, I do not set my face against school training, but can bet- ter exi)ress my meaning by the ((uainl saying tjiat "too iniK-li of a go(»d thing is more than e'KMigli,"" M ]ilii"is(' in a way senseless, whi<-li yet (•on\i'.\s a dcepei' meaMing than the lil<'ral words ex|>i'ess. Tlie context will show the lack of a coiiiinon scliooj ('(ln«ali(»n. alter all, was not en- tirely I'di- want <>r an oppoi-l nnity, bnt from my a\'ei-si<»n tut mother put a quietus on the whole business and said the family must not be divided, and it was not, and in that slie was riglit. Give me xhr humble home for a child that is a home in fact, rather than the grandest pal- ace where home life is but a .sham. I come now to an important event of my life, when father moved from Lockland, Ohio, to near Tovington, Indiana. I was not yet seven years old, but walked all the way behind the wagon and began building "castles in the air," which is the first (but bv no means the last) that I re- THE OLD ()KE(;ON TKAIL 237 iiu'iiibcr. ^^'(' wei'c ii,()ini;' out to Iiidiami to be farmers, and it was here, near the banks of the ^^'abash, that I learned the art of driving four yoke of oxen to a brea Icing i)lo\v, witliout swearing. This reminds me of an after-experience, the summer I was nineteen. Uncle Jolm Kinworthy, good old soul he was, an ardent Quaker who lived a uiile or so out from Bridgeport, Indiana, asked me one day while I was passing his place with three yoke of oxen to haul a heavy cider ])ress beam in place. This led the oxen through the fi'ont dooryard and in full sight and hearing of three buxom (Quaker girls who either stood in the door, or ])oked their heads out of the windows, in (•om]»auy with tlu^r good mother. Go through that fi'ont yard past those girls the cattle would not, and ke]»t doubling back, first on one side and then on the other. Uncle Johnny, noticing 1 did noi swear at the cattle, and attributing the ab- sence of oaths to the ]n-eseiice of the ladies, or maybe, like a i^ood maii.\' oihei-s, he thought oxen coidd not be drix'eu wiihoiit swearing at them, soiighl ;in opporl unity, when the mish-ess of tin? lionse conid intt he;ii" him. ;ind s;iid in a low tone, "If tlM'c i;in molasses, sometimes, but not often. Meat, ]i<»l moi'c IJiau once a day, but eggs in abuudance. lOvcrylliiiig fallicr liaric('d, whih- cvci-ythiug mother must buy at the store was higli. Only to think (►f it, you who complain «»(■ tlic hard lot of the workers of this generation : wh<'at I wciily-tive cents a bushel, corn firt<*eu cents, ])<)rk two and two anNei'(' the happiest mortals on earth. As I have said, 4 :00 o'eloek scarcely ever found my mother in bed, and until within very recent jears I can say that 5 :00 o'clock al- most invariably finds me up. Habit, do you say? No, not that wholly, though that may have some- thing to do with it, but 1 get up earl}^ because I want to, and because I have something to do. When I was born, thirty miles of railroad com- prised the whole mileage of th(^ United States, and this only a tramway. Now, how many hun- dred thousand ndles 1 know not, but many miles over the two hundred thousand nmrk. When I crossed the great states of Illinois and Iowa on my way to Oregon in 1852 not a mile of railroad had been built in either state. Only four yinirs before the first line was bnilt to Indiana, really a tramway, from Madison, on the Ohio river to In- dianapolis. What a furor the building of that railroad created ! Earnest, honest men opposed the building just as sinc(n'ely as men now advo- cate the public ownership; both pr()])ositions nvo fallacious, the one long since exploded, the other in due time as sure to die out as the first. My father was a strong advocate of the railroads, but T caught the arguments on the other side ad- THE 0\A> OUEGOX TUAIL 241 vocalcd >\ ith such veheuieuce lus to liuvc the sound of auger. AMiat will our farmers do with their hay if all the teams that are hauling freight to the Ohio river are thrown out of emplo,yment? A\'liat will tlie tavern keepers do? What will become of the wagoners? A hundred such (juer- ies would be asked by the opponents of the rail- road and, to themselves, triumphantly answered thai Ihe country would be ruined if railroads were built. Xevertlieless, Indianapolis has grown from ten thousand to much over a hun- dred thousand, notw ithstanding the city enjoyed the iiuusnal distincticm of being the first ter- minal city in the state of Indiana. I remember it was the boast of the railroarint just half as many sheets on the hand press as they could on the vaunted pctwer press, when I would fly the sheets, that is, take them off when ])rinted with one hand and roll the type with the othei'. This so i)leased Noel that he advanced my wages to |1.50 a week. The ju'eseut generation can have no conce])tion of t^lie brutal virulence of the advocates of slavery against the "nigger'' and "nigger lovers," as all wci-c known wlio difl not join in the crusaood enough, whereupon an offer was made to suitably clothe me and pay something besides; but father oltjected because he did not want me to listen to preacliing- other than the sect (Camp- bellite) to which he belonged. The incident set me to thinkiug, and finalh' drove me, Toung as 1 was, into the Iib(n-al faith, though I dare not openly espouse it. In those days many ministers openly ])reached of endless i)unishment in a lake of fire, but I never could believe the doctrine, and yet their words woubl carry terror into my heart. Tlie ways of tlie world are better now in this, as ill iii;niy oilu'r respects. One e])is<)de of my life while working in the l)rinting office 1 liave remembered vividly all these yeai's. During the caiiip;iign of 1S14 Ihe wliigs held a second gathering on (lie Tii)]»ecaneoi)le used to do in their religions c;nii]>-meetings. The joiii-ney- llieil |tl'ill(ers (>r tlie ■/itililidl olVlce |»I;ilined to go 248 THE ox tea:m or sional'' publication aud "sold by carrier only," all this by after liourvS, when the rej^ular day's work was finished. I picked up (initc a good many fip-i-na-l>its (a coin representing the value of 0)1/4 cents) myself from the sale of these. After awhile the paper was i)ublished regu- larly, a rate esta1»]ished, and the little paper took its i)lace among tlie regular ]»ublica- tions of the day. This writing is altogether from mc^mory of occurrences sixty-two years ago, and may be faulty in detail, but the main facts are true, A^'hich probably will be borne out by the files of the great newspaper that has grown from the seed sown by those restless journeymen lU'inters. This Avriting has already run far beyond the space allott(Ml for it, and must necessarily lie sus- pended until a more opportune tinse. Horace Greeley, writing of the resunij)tion of s])ecie payment, said the way to resume Avas to resume, and applying that rule, the way to sus- pend this writing is to suspend. So ends this chapter and so ends the book. Pioneer Reminiscences of Paget Sound THE TRAGEDY OF L ESC HI An account of tlic coming of the first Americans and tfie establishment of their institutions ; their encounters with the native race ; the first treaties with tlie Indians and the war tliat followed; seven years of the life of Isaac I. Stevens in Washington Territory; cruise of the author on Puget Sound fifty years ago; Nisqually House and the Hudson Bay Company. From personal observation during fifty years' residencf, contem- porary pioneer reminis- cences, and other authentic sources. By Ezra Meeker, Seattle, Washington 1905 J^ore\vor^ In presenting you the title page of my work, '"Pioneer Reminiscences of Puget Sound; The Tragedy of Leschi," I invite your careful scrutiny of the same and respectfully solicit your order. I have for the two last years earnestly devoted my time to collecting the early history of the Puget Sound country, comparing contemporary testimony, sifting out errors, searching the publications of the period of which I have written, and have carefully scanned all available official documents not lost or destroyed, and feel that I have a history as nearly correct as it is possible to obtain with the records handed down to us. I have lived within about thirty miles of this city con- tinuously for fifty-two years and, of course, have drawn largely on my own recollections and personal experiences as well as from my contemporaries, the living by personal conference, and the dead by their scattered writings yet obtainable. The work is in one volume of 575 pages, 6x9, and printed on the best material possible to obtain, and bound in elegant style in silk cloth, with twenty-six illustrations. I am wholly dependent upon the sale of the book to repay the outlay, as I have in no instance received a dollar for illustrations to tickle the fancy of somebody or nobody. Neither have extracts been printed merely to fill space, nor characters puffed for a subscription. $3.00, net; with "The Ox Team," $3.50. Seattle, Washington, May 1, 1905. Address EZRA MEEKER, Omaha, Nebraska. (Tomnicnts an^ (^olnmcn^ation0 •'The story, in Mr. Meeker's hands, is a drama of intense interest. It is history, too, not fiction; though it comes through his narrative almost in the nature of romance. The book will live. It will carry Mr. Meeker's name down to future times; for it is a book for which there will be no substitute. As a record of pioneer life in a section of the old Oregon country it will hold always a distinct place. To the striking individuality of the author, to the vital force of his memorj', to the earnestness and sincerity of his convictions, to the vivacity of his early impressions and to the courage that ever has characterized him in the maintenance of his opinions, we owe the value of this unique production. As a contribution to our pioneer his- tory it will take high place — above and beyond the con- troversies that surrounded the name of Governor Stevens in the early history of the territory of Washington. This fine narrative, in a word, is the epic of Leschi, which has dwelt in the mind of Mr. Meeker these fifty years. Was the Indian unfortunate in his life and death whose name finds at last an attempt at vindication, which, though per- haps not clearing it wholly, yet rescues it from perishable memory and makes it immortal?" — H. W. SCOTT, Veteran Editor Oregonian. "A noted author once remarked, 'There is an art of lying; there is equally an art — an infinitely more difficult art — of telling the truth.' This latter art Mr. Meeker has caught to perfection in his Reminiscences. No story of pioneer life in the Northwest, fact or fiction, so true to life, has yet appeared. Wholesome simplicity and fidelity to trutli are apparent on its every page." — Seattle Times. "Mr. Ezra Meeker has completed his book, 'Pioneer Reminiscences of Puget Sound — The Tragedy of Leschi,' and it has already begun to receive attention from the press of this and other states. Like all books of value, it is being both praised and censured. But those who take issue with Mr. Meeker, as well as those who praise his work, evidently find it interesting. "He has. Indeed, told his story well, and it is a very entertaining one. He has described the home-leaving in the older states, the long trip across the plains, with its trials, dangers, and privations, that for the time being made man 'brother to the ox,' without discpedit to either in the relationship; the arrival in the wilderness; the dis- couragements and dangers in the new situation; the varied experiences and noval adventures of pioneer life, if not with the skill of a practiced writer, at least with the force and clearness of one who tells, as Caesar did, of events 'all of which he saw, and part of which he was.' The reader may sometimes wish that Mr. Meeker had arranged his narrative with more care and embellished it with more details, but he will regret only that there is not more of it." — Tacoma Ledger. "The story is stirringly interesting all the way through, and more than once will its passages remind the reader of Irving's 'Astoria.' Your sincerity is fine, Mr. Meeker, and of very high order; and the tender domestic touches cause the whole to glow with warmth of human sympathy." —HELEN ROGERS.— Private Letter. "Hon. Ezra Meeker, whose writing is familiar to the readers of the Post-Intelligencer, has published a hand- some volume, fully illustrated photographically, his 'Pio- neer Reminiscences.' The book contains nearly 600 pages, and is as interesting as human documents can be." — Seattle Post-Intelligencer. i "I have read your delightfully written book with great pleasure and interest, and have placed it in my library alongside of Dr. Coues's edition of 'Lewis and Clark,' Ir- ving's 'Astoria,' Parkman's 'Oregon and California Trail,' Mrs. Dye's 'McLoughlin and Old Oregon,' and 'Conquest,' Winthrop's 'Canoe and Saddle,' and I assure you it is not the least p-ized of the lot. Aside from its absorbing in- terest to a Puget Sounder' of almost twenty years of my best life, it has literary merit of a high order." T^JUDGE THAD. MUST IN. — Private Letter. "I congratulate you on the contents of your book. It is unique, interesting, and a most valuable contribution to the early history of the Puget Sound Basin, and' should find a place in every library, particularly school libraries in Washington state. —GEORGE H. HIMES.— Private Letter. "I have read, perhaps, every book that has appeared re- garding early days in the Pacific Northwest, and Mr. Meek- er's is the best presentation of pioneer life I have seen." —CLARENCE C. BAGLEY. "This is the most valuable narrative on the history of our state that has come to our notice. Conscientious truth- fulness characterizes every sentence in the book. . . . Mr. Meeker was one of the actors in the early drama. He knows whereof he speaks. He possesses the courage of his convictions.* He has written a grand book of truth — a book that will render its author's name immortal. Isaac I. Stevens was a hero, but Ezra Meeker will not worship him. He is cognizant of the hero's faults and is brave enough to point them out. The book will be a safeguard to the future historian." — J. M. TAYLOR, M.S., In the Pacific Mason. Author of "History and flovfinment of Washington State." "Everyone interested in the liistory of the Northwest will welcome Mr. Ezra Meeker's latest book, 'Pioneer Reminiscences of Puget Sound, the Tragedy of Leschi,' recently published by the author, a well-illustrated volume of some 550 pages, covering the eventful period of 1852-60. "Mr. Meeker was one of the early pioneers, who, with his wife and six-weeks-old baby, crossed the continent with a small party in 1852, stopping first on the Columbia river, going from there to Steilacoom, and later making his home in other parts of the Puget Sound country, thus being an eye-witness of some of the most important events in the history of our state. "The book contains much information regarding the early history of nearly every town on Puget Sound, at times interspersed with personal reminiscences, told in an entertaining manner. The author throws many side lights on the relations between the United States government and the Indians, revealing a keen insight into the charac- ter of the Washington and Oregon tribes, and the causes of the Indian wars. Altogether the book is an important addition to the literature of the state." —MARY BANKS, Secretary Washington Library Association. "I received your book in due season, and have read it through — every .line. Permit me to congratulate you on the excellency of the whole work. "The plain, straightforward way in which you have pre- sented the whole story is deserving the encomium of all who love the truth and despise hero worship. "Allow me to thank you again for the pleasure I have found in reading the 'Tragedy of Leschi.' " —DR. H. C. WILL I SON. — Private Letter. K '^1 IVfTMl ^% ^■1 , ^10SANC[L% ^od'^vnuk ^OFCAllFn?. % is^ UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 804 088 3 ^ §) i M\ ^'