.msL 
 
 ■^gv: i -VK 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PRO F.CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
A Courier of Empire 
 
HE SPRANG FROM THE LEDGE INTO THE STREAM. 
 
A Courier of Empire 
 
 A STORY OF MARCUS WHITMAN'S 
 RIDE TO SAVE OREGON 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN H. WHITSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF " WITH FREMONT, THE PATHFINDER," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 CHASE EMERSON 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON CHICAGO 
 
 {/ 
 
Copyright, igo4, 
 
 By W. a. Wilde Company. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 A Courier of Empire. 
 
^5G 
 
 Preface 
 
 The name of Marcus Whitman is linked inseparably 
 with the great Northwestern region once known as 
 Oregon, comprising an area much greater than the 
 state which now bears that name. Whitman's ride 
 across three thousand miles of wintry wilderness to 
 save Oregon to the Union was one of the most re- 
 markable achievements in the history of our land, 
 though until recently comparatively unrecognized. 
 Whitman's famous ride and much of the history of 
 his life in connection with early Oregon are here set 
 forth. In his previous book for boys, ''With Fremont, 
 the Pathfinder," the author followed the career of Gen- 
 eral John C. Fremont, and gave an account of the 
 manner in which California became a part of the 
 Union. The aim of the present volume is to show, in 
 the form of an interesting and entertaining story, how 
 the vast region called Oregon became a part of the 
 United States. It is hoped it will meet with the favor 
 shown the previous work. 
 
 ivi3.14.145 
 
Contents 
 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 TiMuiTTi's Brother 
 
 Perils of the Trapper .... 
 Outwitting the Crows .... 
 
 At Green River 
 
 Marcus Whitman 
 
 The White-headed Eagle of the Columbia 
 
 Prophets of Evil 
 
 An Important Matter .... 
 A Dinner and a Boast .... 
 Whitman's Ride to save Oregon 
 Mutterings of the Storm .... 
 Matpah gets a Ducking .... 
 The Wolf Meeting 
 
 Umtippi, the Medicine 
 
 Prisoners in an Indian 
 
 The Escape . 
 
 Phil's Adventures 
 
 Startling News . 
 
 Cora Carlton 
 
 Matpah's Defiance 
 
 7 
 
 Man 
 Village 
 
 PAGE 
 II 
 
 21 
 
 31 
 
 52 
 58 
 69 
 82 
 
 91 
 
 98 
 105 
 
 IIS 
 
 126 
 
 135 
 
 146 
 
 161 
 
 179 
 193 
 208 
 
 222 
 230 
 
8 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XXI. Phil's Courageous Work . 
 
 XXII. The Chief Factor's Message . 
 
 XXIII. The Conference and its Result 
 
 XXIV. The Cayuse War 
 
 XXV. Trapped 
 
 XXVI. The Heroism of Old Tilskit . 
 
 XX VII. Conclusion ...... 
 
 238 
 251 
 258 
 268 
 282 
 298 
 311 
 
Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " He sprang from the ledge into the stream " 
 
 Frontispiece 17 
 
 *' Indians and trappers had gathered about them " . 55 
 
 ** He dashed courageously upon the brute " . . . 137 
 
 '*' Now is our time,' Phil whispered " .... 185 
 
 "' I defy the Bostons '" 270 
 
A Courier of Empire 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 TIMUITTrS BROTHER 
 
 THE appearance of Phil Curtis, as he came out of 
 the lodge of Tilskit, chief of the Cayuse Indians, 
 would have delighted the eye of any boy of to-day, 
 for his deerskin leggings were of the newest and 
 whitest, his moccasins shone with beadwork, his 
 fringed hunting-shirt, belted in at the waist, was 
 quilled and ornamented most elaborately, and the 
 round cap that protected his head was of the glossiest 
 beaver skin. 
 
 In the lodge behind him stood an Indian woman 
 whose look of kindliness and pride was mixed with 
 something of anxiety and sorrow. This was Neekomy, 
 wife of the chief, and her deft fingers had fashioned 
 the clothing which set so well on the straight and 
 handsome boy. 
 
 As Phil Curtis emerged thus from the lodge and 
 looked out over the tiny clustering Indian village, a 
 
 II 
 
12 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 group of men came into view from the worn game 
 trail that ran by way of the mountain gulch to the 
 swift river. They were Indians, with one exception. 
 This exception was Phil's father, a tall, bearded trapper, 
 whose soiled deerskins contrasted strongly with those 
 in which his son was now arrayed. He appeared to 
 be moving in the midst of an Indian escort. By his 
 side walked a plumed chief, who was none other than 
 Tilskit himself, just returned from a successful hunting 
 trip into the mountains. Behind the trapper and the 
 Indians came ponies laden with game, the fruits of the 
 hunt. 
 
 The Indian woman spoke, in her native tongue, from 
 the shadow of the lodge : — 
 
 " It is good. The great chief thinks warm thoughts, 
 for he has much game. His face shines. His eyes 
 are filled with favor; it is well, and you may go." 
 
 As if this were a signal, though it was not, an 
 Indian boy stepped from the lodge to Phil's side. His 
 attire was an exact counterpart of that worn by Phil, 
 even to the rude figure of the salmon wrought in 
 white beads, which ornamented the breast of the 
 hunting-shirt. This boy placed his hand somewhat 
 timidly on Phil's arm. 
 
 "Boston soon be Timuitti's brother," he said, in 
 broken English. Then added instantly, in the Cayuse 
 
TIMUITTl'S BROTHER 13 
 
 tongue, " But he has been my brother always, since 
 the time at the great river." 
 
 Without once looking at the lodge where the boys 
 stood with the Indian woman behind them, the chief 
 and the trapper turned toward a larger lodge, which 
 they entered, the Indians crowding after them. 
 
 Again the Indian woman spoke, this time in a more 
 encouraging way, and the two boys, so alike in their 
 clothing, yet so unHke in all things else, walked together 
 toward the lodge into which the trapper and the Indians 
 had vanished. At the door they stopped, in hesitation. 
 Then the Indian boy pulled aside the flap with a sort 
 of reckless courage, thus revealing the interior. 
 
 Behind him Phil heard the voices of squaws and 
 children, the snarling of dogs, and the loud hum of 
 excited conversation ; before him he saw his father 
 and Tilskit seated on a bearskin rug, the other occu- 
 pants of the lodge crowding about or seeking seats on 
 furs or on the grass which formed the floor. 
 
 Then he was being led forward by the Cayuse boy, 
 and a moment later was standing in front of the 
 plumed chief, who had his ceremonial pipe out and 
 was rubbing some willow bark in his hands prepara- 
 tory to the formal smoke which usually precedes an 
 Indian conference. 
 
 Phil looked at his father, whose dark, wind-burned 
 
14 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 face showed no surprise. The Cayuse boy was looking 
 at his own father, the chief, who had stopped in his 
 work of pulverizing the willow bark and was regarding 
 his son with questioning intentness. Just the shade 
 of a frown came to the chief's face when he observed 
 the clothing that Phil wore. 
 
 For a full minute he said nothing. Outside the hum 
 of talk rose and fell like the low murmur of a waterfall, 
 but within the lodge utter silence reigned. The mind 
 of the chief had leaped the barrier of more than a year, 
 as Phil's had done. 
 
 What each saw and remembered was a swift tribu- 
 tary of the Columbia River, swollen and impetuous 
 from heavy rains, rolling in mad and turbid flight 
 toward the greater river and the sea. On every hand 
 towered precipitous cliffs and canon walls, between 
 which the wild river sped in its flight. On a level 
 spot near by was an Indian village, occupied by this 
 band of the Cayuse tribe. There children were play- 
 ing, dogs barking and racing, ponies grazing, squaws 
 cleaning and drying fish, while over all the blue smoke 
 of lodge fires rose skyward as if to bar out the circHng 
 and screaming gulls. 
 
 Along the river, wherever a rock jutted into the 
 stream or thrust up a black back to tear at the racing 
 water Hke a saw, stood Indian boys and men, armed 
 
TIMUITTFS BROTHER 15 
 
 with salmon spears, or with long poles to which nets 
 were attached ; for the fishing season was at its height, 
 and the salmon, crowding in from the sea, were seeking 
 to ascend the streams, impelled by that strange instinct 
 which drives them far up into the fresh-water rivers 
 to deposit their eggs. The mad, roaring river was 
 alive with the fish, and the Cayuse Indians were busily 
 engaged in securing their annual harvest. 
 
 Phil Curtis was there with his father. They had 
 come up from the trappers' post at Vancouver, a 
 month before, and had been trapping, hunting, and 
 fishing near the river ever since. On this day Phil 
 stood with some Indian boys on a narrow shelf of 
 granite overhanging the river, and was dipping up 
 salmon with a net, and flinging them out on the rocks. 
 The Indian boys, two of whom were the sons of Tilskit, 
 the Cayuse chief, had become unduly excited, for their 
 luck was great, and this was play for them, not 
 work. 
 
 Suddenly a net, dipped incautiously into the swift 
 river by a laughing boy, was caught by the wild cur- 
 rent, which swung it sidewise with incredible force. 
 It was as if a giant hand had reached up and plucked 
 the boy from his footing on the granite shelf. Seeking 
 to save himself from the river, he threw his arms about 
 Timuitti, his brother. The next instant both were in 
 
1 6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 the boiling waters, which sucked them under and out 
 of sight. 
 
 Phil Curtis, who had been standing but a few yards 
 below them, on seeing the accident ran swiftly down 
 stream as far as the ledge would permit. The Indian 
 boys were too much excited to do anything but howl. 
 They did this, however, with all their might, though 
 the thunder of the river prevented the sound from 
 being carried very far. 
 
 As Phil reached the limit of the shelf, he saw the 
 two sons of Tilskit rise like a revolving wheel to the 
 surface of the stream. Locked in each other's arms, 
 they were struggling frantically, and, as Phil knew, 
 drowning. There was no time for consideration. Just 
 below, the waters fell, spreading out into a somewhat 
 placid lakehke arm of the river, though beneath that 
 placid surface the turbid current was churning in a 
 veritable whirlpool. 
 
 Phil did not have time to throw off his clothing. 
 He had no time for anything, not even to think. If he 
 had considered the possible consequences to himself, 
 he might have hesitated. In his heart was a great 
 desire to save those boys, with whom he had hunted, 
 fished, and played, and whom he had come to like quite 
 as well as if they had been boys of his own race. So, 
 when he saw them whirled upward to the surface of 
 
TiMUirrrs brother 17 
 
 the treacherous river, and observed that they were 
 being carried toward the pool, he sprang from the 
 ledge into the stream. 
 
 He could swim like an otter, and he knew it. Hence 
 it did not seem to him that the risk he ran was so great 
 as it really was. He struck the water fairly, and went 
 under like a diving seal. When he rose to the surface, 
 so well had he calculated his own position and that 
 of the Cayuse boys that he found himself within two 
 yards of one of them. They had become separated 
 in some way, and one went under again, just as Phil 
 came up. 
 
 The other, who was Timuitti, was flaying the water 
 in wild excitement, and had evidently become bewil- 
 dered. Phil saw that he, too, was being drawn under, 
 and so began to swim toward him with strong, even 
 strokes which fought the terrible current so vigorously 
 that at once he began to make headway. Timuitti was 
 sinking from sight when Phil's sinewy right hand 
 caught him by the hair. 
 
 Then came a struggle which Phil could never for- 
 get. He was swept with Timuitti into the pool, 
 w^here the churning current beneath drew him down 
 like the undertow of a fierce sea. Twice he was 
 dragged under. Then the current hurled him and 
 the Indian boy toward one side of the pool. Here 
 
i8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 came the final fight. Hampered in his efforts by 
 Timuitti, whom he still held by the hair, and who, 
 now unconscious, had ceased his wild gyrations, Phil 
 essayed again and again to reach the rocky shore 
 with his burden. 
 
 He pulled in until but a few yards separated him 
 from his goal; when, beginning to weaken, he was 
 caught once more, and might have been swept with 
 the Cayuse boy back into the pool had not some 
 of the Indians, gaining that point, formed a rope of 
 themselves by joining hands, and so dragged the 
 two out upon the rocks. 
 
 Many things had happened since that battle with 
 the terrible swollen tributary of the Columbia; and 
 now Phil and Timuitti, the boy he had saved, had 
 met again in the mountains far to the eastward of 
 that salmon stream. 
 
 Phil and his father, both trappers, had come into 
 the village but an hour before, after discovering that 
 it was none other than that of their friends of the 
 Cayuse tribe. Tilskit and some of his hunters were 
 away in the mountains, though expected back at any 
 time. But Phil and his father had been remembered 
 by the friendly natives, especially by Timuitti and 
 Neekomy, his mother, who welcomed them with every 
 manifestation of kindness and good-will. 
 
TIMUITTI'S BROTHER 19 
 
 It was Neekomy who conceived the idea that was 
 now being put into execution ; Neekomy who had 
 brought out from her few treasures the ornamental 
 suit of buckskin which had belonged to the son who 
 was now dead ; Neekomy who had instructed Timuitti 
 in what he was to do and say, and who now in the 
 darkness of her lodge awaited the result of her 
 efforts. She had lost one son in the wild river ; but 
 the other, Timuitti, in whom her soul delighted, had 
 been saved to her by this boy with the white face. 
 Therefore, she would honor him by taking him into 
 her lodge as her son and the son of the great chief, 
 Tilskit. He would occupy the place made vacant by 
 the death of Timuitti's brother ; he would become 
 Timuitti's brother! And as John Curtis, Phil's trap- 
 per father, had not objected when the plan was 
 broached to him, but had thought well of it, the 
 thing was to be done, if it pleased the chief. Would 
 it please him .'' 
 
 During the minute in which Tilskit was staring at 
 the white boy, the latter began to think that the 
 chief would not be pleased. He even began to fear that 
 the chief was offended. But at length Tilskit's counte- 
 nance changed, and he spoke, looking at Timuitti. 
 
 " What would my son .? " he asked, breaking the 
 long silence. 
 
20 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " It is the wish of my mother, Neekomy, that the 
 boy who saved me from the great river shall be my 
 brother. Since the water drank the life of my 
 brother, she has no son but Timuitti." 
 
 There was a shade of melancholy in the grave 
 face of the Cayuse chief, as he turned to Phil, at 
 whom he again looked intently. Another painful 
 silence followed. Then the chief spoke again. 
 
 "My son," he said, addressing Phil, ''I know that 
 you are worthy. It shall be as Neekomy wishes. 
 Henceforth, you are Timuitti's brother." 
 
 Gravely he began to fill the peace pipe which he 
 held in his hand. The Indians in the lodge began 
 to talk in pleased gutturals. Outside, some one who 
 had been watching sped away with the tidings to the 
 waiting Neekomy. Phil, at a motion from his father, 
 sank quietly to a skin rug, with Timuitti at his side. 
 In a little while all within the lodge were seated, 
 and the pipe of peace passed solemnly from lip 
 to lip. 
 
 Phil Curtis was a Cayuse Indian, so far as he 
 could be made one, and was Timuitti's brother. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 PERILS OF THE TRAPPER 
 
 WHEN John Curtis arrived with his son at Til- 
 skit's village, he was not well. He had come 
 from far to the northward, and the long journey was 
 one of hardship, privation, and many perils. He was 
 glad, therefore, when he discovered this village of 
 friendly Indians and was able to run his log canoe 
 ashore and seek rest in their lodges. For many, many 
 miles that big canoe had borne him. Through canon 
 clefts and down swift rapids it had dashed, guided 
 by skilful paddles ; over many a leaping cascade and 
 waterfall, where an error of the eye, a slip of the hand, 
 or a failing of the nerves meant disaster and perhaps 
 death. 
 
 It had been a task to try the strength and courage 
 of the stoutest heart. But there was no stouter heart 
 in all the great Northwestern fur country than that of 
 John Curtis, and his son was like him. Where the 
 great ridges of the Rockies lift in titanic and splin- 
 tered peaks far up toward the Canadian line, John 
 
 21 
 
22 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Curtis had trapped the head waters of the mountain 
 streams. And the big canoe which bore him and his 
 son at last from the rich hunting-grounds, carried his 
 store of furs. The work had been attended by many 
 dangers, from Indians, from cold, from wild beasts ; 
 but the run in the canoe down the swift mountain 
 streams involved many more. Everywhere the fierce 
 Blackfeet lay in wait, eager for scalps and plunder ; 
 and the Crows, not so implacable and bloodthirsty, but 
 thieves by instinct, vied with the Blackfeet in making 
 every river, trail, and mountain pass a terror. 
 
 John Curtis had evaded all his enemies. He had run 
 wild rapids and boiling whirlpools on moonless and 
 starless nights that he might escape them, had slipped 
 boldly and swiftly past villages of hostiles in the early 
 dawn while the river smoke hung like a white canopy 
 on the surface of the steaming water, and had lain in 
 hiding in thicket and coulee through weary hours, with 
 his canoe and precious furs well concealed, while the 
 blazing sun moved in slow dignity across the blue high- 
 way of the sky. 
 
 So cautious had been this veteran trapper — with a 
 caution learned by years of experience in the Western 
 wilds — that when he detected the smoke of the 
 Cayuse lodges he pushed his canoe beneath a shelving 
 rock, and mounting to a high hill surveyed the village 
 
PERILS OF THE TRAPPER 23 
 
 long and carefully. Even after he knew that these 
 Indians were a wandering band of the Cayuse tribe, 
 who were supposed to be friendly, he did not venture 
 to make his presence known until he had crept almost 
 into the village itself and beheld famiHar faces. 
 
 "A rest of a few days," he said, speaking to Tilskit, 
 at the close of the ''long talk" with the Cayuses, "will 
 make me all right again. I am worn out, that is all, 
 and rest is what I need. I am glad that I fell in with 
 your people ; for, besides the rest I must have, I shall 
 want to bu}' some ponies of you. I have been hoping 
 for a chance to land somev/here along here and strike 
 across for Green River, where I can sell my pelts. To 
 do that I need ponies." 
 
 John Curtis had other talks with Tilskit, and even 
 made some minor preparations for the journey to Green 
 River. But he was delayed by increasing weakness 
 and lassitude, and at last was stricken down with fever. 
 The Cayuses were not skilled as doctors ; but in this 
 emergency they did what they could, and the careful 
 nursing of his son did the rest. It was a month, how- 
 ever, before John Curtis was able to be about and to 
 take short walks ; and then it was found that the fever 
 had left a Hngering weakness that threatened to inca- 
 pacitate him for a long time to come. 
 
 In the meantime the Indian restlessness and love 
 
24 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 of change had made itself manifest. The Cayuses 
 declared that they wanted to begin a movement toward 
 the coast ; it was many, many miles away, they urged, 
 and the journey would occupy many moons, travelling 
 as they did with frequent stops to fish and hunt in 
 favorable places. John Curtis tried his arts of per- 
 suasion to get them to move in the direction of Green 
 River, but they had no furs to sell, so would not lend a 
 favoring ear to his importunities. 
 
 When it was evident that the Indians were getting 
 ready to move, and that they did not intend to move in 
 the direction of Green River, John Curtis, who was 
 still very weak from his recent serious illness, held a 
 long and earnest conference with his son. 
 
 " It may take these lazy fellows months to reach the 
 Columbia, though I think they will be there by salmon 
 fishing time. But where they will be, or to what point 
 they will wander, between now and then, is pure guess- 
 work. 
 
 '• Now, it's plain that in the condition I'm in it's 
 best for me to stay with Tilskit and his people, at 
 least until I'm much better and stronger. I don't 
 think I ever felt so weak in my Hfe. That moun- 
 tain fever did it. It took away my strength gen- 
 erally, and greatly weakened my heart, so that now 
 I could no more pull a paddle in a swift current, or 
 ride a horse all day, than I could fly. 
 
PERILS OF THE TRAPPER 25 
 
 "Tilskit says that his people are going, and he 
 cannot keep them from doing so. The truth is, he 
 wants to be on the niove as much as any of them. 
 These Indians are all alike. When they want to 
 move they're like gypsies — nothing can keep them. 
 But he says that they will make easy journeys for 
 some time, until I'm stronger. I think they will do 
 that ; and they'll take care of me as if I was one 
 of them, more on your account than on mine. I'm 
 glad they feel that way, for I see I've got to stay 
 with them. 
 
 "As soon as I'm stronger, if they don't go fast 
 enough to suit me, I shall leave them and strike out 
 for the Columbia myself. I know the trails, and can 
 get through all right, without trouble, just as soon 
 as I'm really fit to travel. 
 
 ''And that brings me up to what I want to talk 
 to you about. You know the trails to Green River, 
 for we've been over them together. Though you're 
 young, you're already as good a mountain man as I 
 am. Our furs ought to .go through at once, for the 
 traders and trappers are already there and no time 
 is to be lost." 
 
 Phil Curtis had guessed what was coming long 
 before his father reached this point. He, too, felt 
 that those valuable furs, the result of a season of 
 
26 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 arduous toil, ought not to be knocking round an 
 Indian village for months, deteriorating and accumu- 
 lating dirt, when there was an excellent market for 
 them at Green River, the great annual meeting place 
 of all the fur buyers and white and Indian trappers 
 of that vast region. True, the trail might be dan- 
 gerous, but he did not think the danger would be 
 great, and he knew the way well. 
 
 ** I can take them through all right," he said, in 
 answer to his father's implied question. *' There are 
 some bad places in the trail, and the going will be 
 rather slow with loaded ponies ; but I ought to make 
 it in something over two weeks, don't you think ? 
 What troubles me most is that I don't like to leave 
 you while you're not well." 
 
 His father looked out across the level grass-land by 
 the river to the mountains that appeared to bar the 
 way. To a man of civilization that journey would 
 have been long ; but to a trapper of the John Curtis 
 type, whose life was made up of isolation and long 
 expeditions, it seemed short. 
 
 " I hate to have you go," he said; "but two weeks, 
 or maybe a little more, ought to take you there. 
 The Cayuse ponies are in fine condition now and 
 they'll travel well. They've been having a lazy time 
 all summer, and you can line them out all the way 
 
PERILS OF THE TRAPPER 27 
 
 at a lively clip. You may have to do some night 
 travelling, and lay by in the daytime, if you come 
 across Indian signs. But I don't think you'll meet 
 any Indians at this season of year, if you take the 
 southern trail, which is the one we went over last. 
 It's a little longer, and harder going in places, but 
 it ought to be safe. I shouldn't let you try it, if 
 I didn't think you could make it all right. But you 
 know how to take care of yourself, Phil ! " 
 
 Nevertheless, he looked thoughtfully at the tops 
 of the mountains ; and for a while it seemed that he 
 was almost on the point of abandoning his design 
 to send his son on alone with the furs to Green 
 River. Then his face grew firm ; he was a deter- 
 mined man, and peril was a part of his life. To live 
 for any length of time in a land where there was 
 no peril would have been to him a new sensation. 
 A trapper's life held little else but danger, and he 
 had bred his son to the calHng of a trapper. 
 
 " I've already talked to Tilskit about the ponies," 
 he went on. " I can trade him the canoe and some 
 of the furs that he's taken a notion to. You'll want 
 six good ponies : one for yourself and five to carry 
 the furs. I could get more, but that will be as many 
 as you'll need. And I'll meet you at Walla Walla; 
 or, if I miss you there, at Vancouver. You can go 
 
28 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 down the regular trail into the Oregon country, after 
 you've sold the furs, and no doubt you'll be on the 
 Columbia before I am. If I haven't reached Walla 
 Walla, wait for me there ; and if I've been there 
 and gone on to Vancouver, follow me as fast as you 
 can, and I'll stay there until you come." 
 
 This was the substance of John Curtis's long talk 
 with his son, and of the instructions which Phil received. 
 
 The next day the strong, hardy boy, whose spirit 
 was as courageous and indomitable as that of his 
 trapper father, began preparations for the journey to 
 Green River. With the assistance of his father he 
 selected six ponies from the Cayuse herd. On the 
 one he was to ride he tied food and a few necessaries, 
 in addition to a small blanket roll of skins for sleep- 
 ing purposes. To these were added a battered tin 
 cup, a frying pan, and other needed articles of similar 
 character. 
 
 Wherever Phil went that day with his father, he was 
 accompanied by his new brother, Timuitti, and by other 
 Indian boys, who had conceived a strong liking for 
 him. Tilskit himself stalked about among the ponies 
 while the six were being selected. The other Indians, 
 with the one exception of Neekomy, who disliked to 
 part from her new son so soon, showed the marked 
 indifference which an Indian habitually assumes. 
 
PERILS OF THE TRAPPER 29 
 
 That afternoon Phil Curtis set out on his lonely ride, 
 accompanied to the edge of the village by Neekomy, 
 Tilskit, Timuitti, and other Cayuses, who were really 
 sorry to have him depart. Phil's father walked on by 
 the side of the pony until the mountains were near. 
 There he shook hands with his son quietly, — he was 
 never a man to give expression to his feeUngs, — added 
 a few final instructions and cautions, and turned back 
 toward the Cayuse lodges, walking slowly and feebly. 
 
 Phil brushed away a tear as he straightened up in 
 the rude Indian saddle and turned the pony into the 
 pass that led to the southern trail. Then he threw his 
 long-barrelled rifle across the saddle in front of him, 
 and glanced keenly ahead over the way he was going. 
 He, too, was a trapper of the great Northwest, and 
 they were never a weeping nor a faint-hearted race. 
 
 He was wearing the wonderful deerskin suit with 
 the salmon on the breast of the hunting-shirt, which 
 Neekomy had given him, and that, with his tanned 
 face and the long hair falling from under his cap, 
 made him look more like an Indian than a white 
 boy. He was tall and strong, too, for his sixteen 
 years — taller and stronger than most boys of that 
 age. 
 
 All the arts and artifices of the hunter, the trapper, 
 and the Indian his father had taught him. As he 
 
30 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 looked ahead along the pass his keen gray eyes caught 
 the flutter of every leaf, the movement of every bough. 
 He noted the dipping, jerky flight of the mountain 
 butterfly, the flirted tail of the magpie on the high 
 rock, the sinuous movement of the grass as the wind 
 rustled through it ; and his sharp ears heard every 
 note of bird, or hum of insect, or call of animal. 
 
 Behind him followed the trained Indian ponies, with 
 quick thuddings of unshod hoofs. The grass deadened 
 the sound, and no dust cloud was raised by their pass- 
 ing. Beyond the first tall cliffs and the mountains, 
 which were butte-like in appearance, the ground fell 
 away in long undulations, like the roll of the sea. 
 
 Thus Phil Curtis passed out and away from the 
 Cayuse village, with eye alert, ear attentive, and rifle 
 held in readiness, though he was sure no danger was 
 near. His attitude was but the mental habit which, 
 under the tuition of his trapper father, had become a 
 part of his nature. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 OUTWITTING THE CROWS 
 
 WHEN night fell Phil removed the burdens from 
 his ponies and lariated the animals where they 
 could feed on the rich bunch grass that grew in a 
 narrow coulee. A sparkling stream coursed down 
 from the mountains not far away. It was an ideal 
 camping spot. 
 
 Phil was in a cheerful frame of mind. The loneli- 
 ness had no terrors for him. In truth, he did not 
 feel lonely. The animals were feeding near, and his 
 thoughts were company. He loved the great silence 
 and the vast spaces of the mountains and the wilder- 
 ness. The idea of loneliness, if it had been suggested 
 to him, would have brought an amused and incredulous 
 smile to his face. In the sense in which a modern 
 city boy transported to the country feels loneliness, he 
 did not know what it was. 
 
 He was cheerful, because he had made such good 
 progress that day, and because at the end of the 
 afternoon's travel the ponies showed so few signs of 
 weariness. Then, too, he had recovered from the 
 
 31 
 
32 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 wrench given to his affections by that pathetic parting 
 with his father. He had turned from that and was 
 looking forward to their reunion in Oregon or at Van- 
 couver. A long time would elapse, he knew, before 
 that could take place; but the meeting would come, 
 at the end of it, and then to the joy of being together 
 once more would be added the knowledge that he had 
 acquitted himself courageously and honorably. 
 
 As for the dangers that might lie between his present 
 camping place and Green River, he did not think much 
 about them. Both he and his father beUeved that the 
 worst perils had been passed in the long run down 
 the river in the canoe. Experience had shown that the 
 route chosen was not Hkely to be infested by hostile or 
 thieving Indians at that season of the year. Yet this 
 belief did not decrease the boy's natural caution ; and 
 when he selected material for his fire that evening, he 
 was careful to choose the dryest pieces of wood he 
 could find, and to kindle the blaze in a small hollow, 
 where a large rock would conceal its glow from any one 
 passing near the mouth of the coulee. 
 
 He made the fire with flint and steel, striking the 
 sparks into a bit of dry moss, and adding to the glowing 
 and growing speck of red other pieces of moss and 
 some hair-hke shavings he had prepared v/ith his hunt- 
 ing-knife. In a little while the fire was going well, in 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 33 
 
 the small trench he had scooped out for it, and over it 
 he placed his few cooking utensils. 
 
 If variety is considered, it was not much of a supper 
 that Phil Curtis sat down to, for it consisted wholly of 
 cured meat, to which was added some cakes of bread 
 made of the flour of ground pinon and other nuts, while 
 the drink was water from the sparkUng rivulet. But a 
 keen, almost ravenous appetite made the meal more 
 than palatable. 
 
 When the few tins had been washed in the stream, 
 and Phil had changed the ponies for the night, and was 
 rolled in the skins that served him as blankets, he lay 
 awake but a short time, listening to the " ruh — ruh-h " 
 of the ponies as they tore at the bunch grass, the low 
 murmur of the summer breeze, and the distant cry of 
 some night-prowling animal; then he fell asleep, with his 
 feet toward the tiny fire, and the stars shining down 
 upon him from the vast spaces of the sky. 
 
 At dawn he was awake. Again the ponies were 
 shifted, that they might feed their fill in the early morn- 
 ing hours ; then a breakfast, resembling the supper of 
 the night before, was prepared and eaten. By sunrise 
 Phil was on his way again, following the trail to Green 
 River. 
 
 It must not be supposed that this was a well-marked 
 trail, like a beaten road. In many places paths had 
 
34 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 been cut deeply into the soil by the passing of herds of 
 elk and deer. But for the most part there was no track 
 whatever. Sometimes there were miles of level grass- 
 land, where travelling was easy and pleasant. At other 
 times there were high, bald ridges to cross, difficult 
 divides to scale ; narrow shelves of rock overhanging 
 precipitous canon walls had to be traversed, where a 
 misstep would have been fatal and a look into the dizzy 
 depths would have made the head reel. The so-called 
 " trail " to Green River was in truth no trail at all, 
 except that certain passes, valleys, gulches, and coulees 
 opened favorably in that direction, and so invited travel. 
 
 More than half the long distance had been gone over 
 before there was cause for alarm. Then one morning 
 Phil discovered Indian pony tracks on the margin of the 
 stream by which he had camped through the night. 
 Every faculty was wide awake on the instant. Those 
 tracks spelled danger. He examined them carefully, 
 and followed them for some distance down the stream. 
 At length he stopped, holding up an arrow which some 
 careless Indian rider had dropped. 
 
 '' Crows ! " he said, as he examined the feathered 
 shaft and noted the peculiarity of the spiral grooves cut 
 in the wood. " They're bad enough, but better than 
 Blackfeet. They were here yesterday, for the tracks 
 are fresh ; and of course they were here before I came. 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 35 
 
 or I should have seen them. They've gone on down 
 the river, and likely they won't give me any trouble." 
 
 Knowing now what he had to guard against, Phil 
 replaced the arrow in the exact position in which he had 
 found it. Then, for an Indian eye is keen, he tried to 
 remove every evidence of his visit to that spot, as he 
 beat a hasty retreat. He could not conceal the fact that 
 his ponies had been at the little river, but was forced to 
 hope that as the Indian ponies had been there also, the 
 signs would not be observed. He did what he could to 
 obliterate every mark of his camp ; then hastily packed 
 up, and, mounting his own animal, led the others into 
 the stream. 
 
 Instead of crossing directly to the opposite bank, 
 he waded the ponies up the stream for a long dis- 
 tance, and sought the other shore at a point where 
 the character of the surface would best conceal the 
 hoof-marks. Nevertheless, he was so uneasy that he 
 set out at as rapid a pace as possible when he had 
 left the Httle stream behind. 
 
 He thought it likely that the Indians had pitched 
 camp the previous evening at no great distance. In 
 that case it was more than possible that the one who 
 had dropped the arrow would, on discovering his loss, 
 retrace his way to find it. To an Indian of those 
 days an arrow was a valuable possession. It repre- 
 
^6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 sented much labor and care, and was not to be replaced 
 easily. 
 
 Phil hoped, though, that if the Indian did return 
 to search for his lost arrow, he would be contented 
 with finding it. If he did not look closely, and par- 
 ticularly if he did not advance up the stream to the 
 point where Phil had made his camp, he would never 
 know that laden Cayuse ponies had passed that way. 
 But if he made the discovery, the entire band of 
 thieving Crows would be on Phil's trail before the 
 day was done. 
 
 In view of this dreaded possibility, it was now the 
 part of wisdom for the young trapper to push for- 
 ward as rapidly as he could ; so he did not spare 
 the ponies, but hurried them on hour after hour. 
 When noon had come and gone, a fact which his 
 timepiece, the sun, told him, and still there were no 
 signs of pursuit, he began to breathe more freely ; 
 yet he kept right on, without the usual halt for food 
 and rest. 
 
 It was almost mid afternoon when he made the 
 terrifying discovery that his carefully concealed trail 
 had been picked up and he was being followed. The 
 first hint of this was brought by the whirring wings 
 of a startled grouse. He had for some time been 
 travelling through a rugged rocky country, where the 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 37 
 
 hillsides were thickly covered with aspens and other 
 small trees. A backward view for any considerable 
 distance was thus cut off. The passage of the ponies 
 had routed a grouse, which had flown backward for 
 a short way along the trail and there ahghted. Now 
 it was up again with whirring beat of wing, when 
 apparently there had been nothing to startle it this 
 second time. 
 
 Phil stopped his pony in the trail and with rifle 
 held in readiness looked behind him, twisting round 
 in the saddle to do so. All at once he saw some 
 bushes move. He even thought he saw the sway- 
 ing of an Indian head feather, though that might 
 have been the effect of an overwrought imagination. 
 He heard nothing but the noise of the grouse's wings, 
 and he saw nothing but that movement in the bushes, 
 though he sat in watchful and anxious expectation 
 for more than a minute. 
 
 " If a bear or some other animal scared that bird, 
 it would have shown itself by this time," he decided, 
 when he heard and saw nothing further. 
 
 So, instead of going on, he dismounted quickly, tied 
 his pony to an aspen, knowing that the other ponies 
 would remain by the lead animal, and climbing to 
 the hillside slipped back to the point from which the 
 grouse had been flushed. Having by a long and 
 
.8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 careful survey made sure that no one was in or near 
 the trail, he ventured into it. There he began a 
 search which led him for some distance along the 
 back track. When it was ended he knew what had 
 scared the grouse and what he had to expect. 
 
 " The Crow who dropped that arrow came back for 
 it, as I feared he would," was his conclusion. " He 
 saw my trail, in spite of the work I did to hide it. 
 That made him go up the river until he came to my 
 camp. There he found that loaded ponies had passed. 
 It must have taken him some time to find the tracks 
 again, after I left the river, but he found them. Ever 
 since then he has been following me. I have been 
 so careful that he could not tell without seeing me 
 whether my ponies represented an Indian party or 
 not. He had to make sure, and it took him all this 
 time to do it. Now he knows, and he'll go straight 
 back to the Crows with his story. He is on foot, 
 but an Indian on foot can sometimes travel to beat 
 a horse. By morning the whole band will be after 
 me; and as my ponies have heavy loads and theirs 
 probably haven't anything to carry but their owners, 
 it will be a wonder if. they can't overtake me." 
 
 Phil's face was troubled as he went back to his pony 
 and rode on along the trail, with the pack animals 
 following. The Crow spy had seen the bales of furs, 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 39 
 
 and had discovered that they had but a single defender, 
 and that a boy. No band of Crows could resist such a 
 temptation. They would endeavor to overtake and rob 
 him, perhaps kill him ; and if they succeeded, they would 
 dispose of the furs themselves at a trading post. 
 
 Until some better plan came to him, the only thing 
 for Phil to do was to travel straight on at the best speed 
 possible. But in spite of all he could do to hurry them 
 the ponies lagged, for they had gone without food since 
 morning and had been given no noon rest. Neverthe- 
 less, the alarmed boy urged them forward as rapidly as 
 he could until near sunset, when, coming to a stream 
 where some rich grass grew, he thought it the part of 
 wisdom to stop there for a time, cook something for 
 himself, and let the ponies graze. 
 
 The way over which he had come that day had been 
 of such a character that he could not hide the trail the 
 ponies made, so he had not tried to do anything of the 
 kind. Now, because it could not make his situation 
 worse, he shot a deer that came down to the stream to 
 drink. Such portions of it as he thought he could use 
 he cut away ; the rest of it he rolled into the stream. 
 Of this venison he ate, and cooked strips of it to take 
 with him in his further flight. 
 
 When the moon rose, some two or three hours later, 
 he crossed the stream and set out again, shaping his 
 
40 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 course by the stars, like the ancient mariners. The 
 wiry Uttle ponies were so much refreshed that they 
 travelled well now, and for many hours Phil kept them 
 going. 
 
 As morning drew on he went into camp again. The 
 ponies could not travel forever without rest and food. 
 Though sure that the Crows would follow him, he did 
 not think they were near, so ventured to catch a brief 
 rest. He overslept, and the sun was shining brightly 
 in his face when he awoke. He leaped to his feet with 
 a nervous start. Then he stood for a time listening, 
 and after that walked some distance along the backward 
 trail. The morning was serene and beautiful, the sun- 
 shine bright and warm. Round some of the nearer 
 mountain peaks wisps of clouds floated and hung like 
 tattered white drapery. Gophers whistled in the grass, 
 and birds sang. The whole mountain landscape was 
 like a dream of peace. 
 
 Yet, back there somewhere, just where he could only 
 guess, Phil Curtis knew that the Crows were dogging 
 his trail, with a never failing persistence. Returning to 
 camp, he hurried preparations for departure, and a little 
 later was again jogging on as fast as he could go. 
 
 All the time, as he had done through all the hours of 
 the previous day, he was searching for some way of 
 escape. His judgment told him that in a straight-ahead 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 41 
 
 race the Crows must win. But how to fool them, how 
 to throw them off the trail, puzzled him. 
 
 Assistance came from an unexpected quarter and in 
 an unexpected way. It was almost noon, and he felt 
 sure the Crows were now not far behind him. The 
 ponies were again lagging, and plainly needed rest. He 
 was riding along a much-used game trail. About him 
 were many fantastic buttes and those singular forms of 
 time-worn rock which men in later times have named 
 the " Hoodoos." The country was wild and broken, 
 much cut by small canons, gulches, and coulees, and 
 somewhat timbered in places. 
 
 As Phil passed along he heard loud trampling behind 
 him, and, looking back, beheld a large band of elk 
 descending the trail. His quick mind saw the possibili- 
 ties in an instant. Drawing his pony sharply out of the 
 trail and guiding him up a bare rocky slope, where his 
 unshod hoofs made no impression, with the other ponies 
 following obediently, he succeeded in gaining the crest 
 of the low divide before the elk were near enough to 
 take fright at his presence. 
 
 When they observed the ponies and the rider, though 
 they appeared to be frightened, the well-worn trail 
 offered such attractions that they dashed straight ahead 
 along it, and were soon lost to sight on the lower 
 slopes. 
 
42 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ** That wipes out the pony tracks," Phil thought, with 
 intense satisfaction. " Now if I can only get away from 
 here without making another trail before the Crows 
 come ! " 
 
 He looked about, with critical, anxious eye. Then, 
 instead of returning to the path he had been following, 
 he rode down the slope of the divide, straight away 
 from the game trail. Choosing the barest and rockiest 
 ground he could find, he continued in this way, the 
 pack ponies climbing and scrambling after him like 
 obedient goats. 
 
 Within less than half a mile he descended to a 
 stream, where the shores were of the same rocky 
 character. Into this he rode, and followed it up for 
 nearly a mile, keeping the ponies all the while in the 
 water. As he thus passed along he watched for some 
 point where he could take to the shore without making 
 a visible trail. 
 
 Finally he came to a side stream, or tributary, and 
 this he followed up for almost a mile more. He was 
 fearing he might find a canon, as he advanced, and 
 thus be forced to retrace his way ; but he came, in- 
 stead, to a somewhat level, grassy stretch, which was 
 hemmed in by timbered hills. There was a fringe of 
 trees along the stream here, and those that clothed the 
 hills came well down into the valley. 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 43 
 
 Phil Curtis stopped his pony and looked across the 
 grassy margin of the little river, through the trees, and 
 at the encircling hills. It seemed an inviting place, if 
 he could get into it without leaving some signs to betray 
 the fact that he had sought it for shelter. The Crows 
 would come up this stream and search these banks, as 
 they would ascend and search every stream and bank 
 for many miles. 
 
 ''There's a little pass over there by which I might 
 get out, if only I could get in," was Phil's thought. 
 
 Then native ingenuity came to his aid. His face 
 brightened with hope and determination, when he had 
 thought out his plan. He slipped from the saddle into 
 the cold water, which did not rise above his knees. 
 From one of the packs he took some of the largest 
 furs and some untanned skins. With these in his 
 arms he waded to the shore, leaving the ponies stand- 
 ing in the current. 
 
 The bottom of the swift stream was rocky. The low 
 margin was rocky, also, for a few yards back from the 
 water. Cloud bursts and rains had worn and washed 
 away the earth there. Then the grass began, growing 
 in soft, tufted bunches. Here Phil began to spread 
 the skins he had brought from the pack, and in a little 
 while he had stretched a carpet of skins and furs across 
 the grass and out through the trees, until it reached 
 
44 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 another rocky area which ran along the base of the 
 hills and terminated in the timbered ground. 
 
 It required several visits to the packs to get enough 
 furs for this, and likewise much watching and many- 
 low commands to keep the ponies from leaving the 
 water before he had completed his preparations. 
 When all was in readiness, he took the halter of 
 the lead pony, and conducted him with great care out 
 of the water, across the rocky rim of the river, and out 
 upon the carpet of furs and skins. The others, as was 
 their wont, followed without much coaxing, and were 
 led by the clever boy into the shelter of the trees at 
 some distance from the stream. 
 
 When they were safely hidden and tethered, Phil ran 
 back to the little river, and with the same care began 
 to remove the furs. Walking backward, beginning 
 at the stream, he gathered them up one by one, 
 straightening up the bunch grass and restoring it as 
 nearly as he could to its normal condition after each 
 skin was removed. 
 
 He worked rapidly, but neglected nothing, for the 
 slightest oversight might lead to his detection. Within 
 ten minutes after sheltering and tethering the ponies, 
 he had the furs also hidden under cover of the trees. 
 Only the water on the rocks, showing where the ponies 
 had emerged from the stream, remained to tell of their 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 45 
 
 passage, and the hot sun would remove that if given 
 time enough. 
 
 It was the best that Phil could do. The Crows, he 
 was sure, would follow on down the game trail and look 
 for pony tracks below. If the elk continued in the 
 trail for any great length of time, the Indians would 
 travel a considerable distance and have a long search 
 before they could discover that the pony tracks had 
 disappeared altogether. 
 
 Phil's reasoning told him that after they had made 
 that important discovery they would back track and 
 endeavor to find the spot where the ponies had left the 
 game trail. They would know that since ponies walk, 
 and cannot fly, hoof prints must be left by them some- 
 where. It would be merely a question of covering the 
 ground thoroughly. They would follow up the various 
 trails, and search the banks of the streams. They were 
 indefatigable in such matters, and would not give up 
 
 readily. 
 
 Yet Phil was sure that he was in no immediate 
 danger of discovery. Therefore, as the ponies were 
 ravenously hungry, he untethered them and permitted 
 them to feed on the grass which grew in scattered 
 tufts beneath the trees. They had satisfied their thirst 
 while wading up the stream. Phil also ate and sought 
 some rest for himself, though he was ever on the alert 
 and kept his rifle close at hand. 
 
46 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 One thing made him hope for a considerable respite. 
 An Indian is afraid of the darkness and disUkes to 
 travel at night. The shadows of the mountains terrify 
 him. Night gives to the age-worn rocks the appearance 
 of goblins and giants, which in the uncertain Hght some- 
 times seem to move. The mind of a savage is in some 
 respects the mind of a child. He exaggerates what he 
 does not see clearly and fears what he does not under- 
 stand. And to him, when darkness descends on the 
 mountains they are filled with mystery. 
 
 For this reason Phil hoped that the Crows had gone 
 into camp at the close of the previous day and would 
 again give over the pursuit with the approach of night. 
 This was but a hope, however ; he could not be at all 
 sure of it. These Indians might be of a more coura- 
 geous mould, or their greed might be so great that they 
 had hurried on in spite of the darkness and the chance 
 of losing the trail of the Cayuse ponies. 
 
 Phil felt a great sense of relief when the day ended 
 and he had seen nothing to cause apprehension. His 
 ponies were somewhat rested and were no longer 
 hungry. He had also recovered in some degree from 
 his fatigue. Yet he would not for an instant delude 
 himself into the beUef that the Crows had given up the 
 chase. He knew those thieving Indians too well for 
 that. 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 47 
 
 When morning came, after an anxious and somewhat 
 wakeful night, he dared not take the ponies down to 
 the stream to let them drink, but he permitted them to 
 feed on the grass under the trees. As the morning 
 advanced he tethered them and cut up a skin into nose 
 stalls, which he hoped would keep them from neighing 
 if any of the Crow ponies came near. Then, with rifle 
 in hand, he sat close by the edge of the timber, where 
 he could see the margin of the stream without being 
 seen himself, and began a careful watch. 
 
 When the morning had passed and noon came, any 
 boy whose knowledge of Indians was not so great 
 would have been tempted to leave the security of the 
 timber and venture back into the trail. But Phil Curtis 
 maintained his position hour after hour. From the 
 river his eyes vv^andered constantly to the high ledges 
 and cliffs that encircled the tiny valley. If any Indians 
 were stealing along there, it was more than likely that 
 sooner or later they would rout out some animal or 
 startle some bird, and so give notice of their presence to 
 the watcher below. But not a thing moved ; even the 
 wind seemed to sleep. Sleepy the ponies certainly 
 were, some of them standing with eyes closed, others 
 lying down. 
 
 All at once a shght splash in the stream caused Phil's 
 nerves to quiver like a taut bowstring when a hand is 
 
48 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 laid on it rudely. He knew that light splash might have 
 been made by a leaping fish, but he feared an Indian. 
 Then, as he looked through the screening foliage, he 
 saw a Crow step out from behind a rock and move 
 softly up the stream. He was in hunting-dress, with 
 head feathers, and armed with bow and arrows. 
 
 As he waded against the current, moving with extreme 
 caution, he swept the shore on each side of the stream 
 with his burning black eyes. He looked out into the 
 tiny valley, - at the timber and at the encircUng hills. 
 He examined the grass. He stopped ! Phil's heart 
 went into his mouth and the clutch on his rifle tightened. 
 The Indian seemed to be only listening, though his 
 eyes were scanning the grass near the margin of the 
 stream. 
 
 Phil glanced anxiously at the ponies. If they made 
 a sound now, if one so much as stamped a hoof to beat 
 away a fly, all would be lost. But they stood in dumb 
 silence, sleepy-eyed, with no knowledge that any human 
 being besides Phil was near. After a careful survey of 
 the timber and the shores, the Crow waded on slowly 
 and soon disappeared up the stream. 
 
 The situation had been so perilous and the reaction 
 was so great that when the Indian had passed on out of 
 sight Phil realized that he was covered with perspira- 
 tion and shaking Uke a leaf. For a long time he did 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 49 
 
 not venture to move, fearing that the Crow might come 
 back down the stream ; he also feared lest his own 
 motions should arouse the ponies and make them rest- 
 less. So he sat perfectly still, recovering little by little 
 from his state of extreme nervousness. 
 
 When so long a time had elapsed that he was per- 
 fectly sure the Crow would not return he rose from 
 his cramped position and walked about under the 
 trees. His mind was busy with plans for leaving the 
 sheltering valley. Some other Crow might go up or 
 down the stream, but Phil did not think it likely, nor 
 did he believe the one who had ascended would return 
 now by that way. He had searched the stream and 
 its banks thoroughly, and had discovered no pony 
 tracks, and it was not probable that he would cover 
 the same course again. 
 
 Phil's sense of security increased greatly when night 
 came. The ponies were up and were anxious for water, 
 of which they had been long deprived. It must have 
 seemed strange to them that they were kept back 
 from it when it was so near. Phil held them in re- 
 straint, however, until the night was well advanced. 
 Then he formed one of the skins into a sort of water 
 bottle and attempted to bring enough water in that 
 to satisfy them in a measure. He had to work very 
 carefully, and the skin bottle was a poor article indeed ; 
 
50 " A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 but by many stealthy visits to the stream he got some 
 water to them, and with that they had to be content. 
 
 For two whole days after he had seen the Crow pass 
 up the stream Phil Curtis remained in hiding in the tim- 
 ber with the Cayuse ponies. In that time he did what 
 he could to relieve their thirst, though he only ventured 
 down to the stream in the darkness. It was a long 
 and trying wait for Phil, as well as for the ponies. 
 Not once in all that time did he start a fire to cook any- 
 thing ; for if the Crows were still near, their watchful 
 eyes might see the smoke by day or the shine of the 
 fire by night. 
 
 Darkness and silence had fallen over the land when 
 at last he decided to try to leave his hiding-place. 
 That afternoon he had cUmbed into one of the tallest 
 of the trees, where, screened by the boughs and the 
 leaves, he had made what survey of the surrounding 
 region he could. It seemed to him that the Crows 
 must have departed from the vicinity. Their supersti- 
 tions, if nothing else, would probably have led them 
 to that, he reasoned. If pack ponies can disappear 
 without leaving hoof print or trail of any kind, there 
 must be something uncanny and unaccountable about 
 them; the thing would be ''bad medicine" to the 
 Indian mind, and for that reason the pursuit would be 
 abandoned. 
 
OUTWITTING THE CROWS 51 
 
 So Phil conducted his Httle pack train from the 
 valley to the stream, into which the ponies plunged 
 eagerly, thrusting their noses deep into the cool water. 
 Then, wading himself, Phil led them slowly and cau- 
 tiously down the stream, out to the larger stream, and 
 on down to the trail. No Crows were encountered; 
 nothing barred his way. 
 
 The trail was open, so far as he could tell. An hour 
 later he was almost sure he had outwitted his pursuers. 
 By morning he knew it ; and after a breakfast and a 
 rest he pushed straight ahead at top speed for Green 
 River. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 AT GREEN RIVER 
 
 WHEN Phil Curtis arrived at the great trappers' 
 and traders' rendezvous on Green River, he 
 was greeted by a scene that excited his interest and 
 stirred his imagination. To the youth emerging from 
 the great mountain wilderness it was like being trans- 
 ported into a fairyland, where everything was bright 
 and enjoyable, lively and gay. 
 
 Two hundred fur traders were there, and two thou- 
 sand Indians, representing tribes scattered all over the 
 mountain country from the plains to the Pacific coast, 
 together with scores and even hundreds of white 
 trappers. The Indians were camped in villages, the 
 white trappers slept in the open or in rudely con- 
 structed huts, while the traders were housed in cabins 
 of logs and in the trading post. A babel of sound 
 filled the air. 
 
 In spite of the confusion, the coming and going, the 
 noise of trafific, the quarrelling and carousing, the sing- 
 ing and yelling, the advent of Phil Curtis with his pony 
 
 52 
 
AT GREEN RIVER 53 
 
 loads of the choicest furs to be found in the mountains 
 did not pass unnoticed. As he threaded his way 
 among the Indian lodges and the trappers' camps, 
 with the laden ponies following, he sat erect, with 
 conscious pride, in the rude Cayuse saddle, and formed 
 a striking picture in the ornamented suit of deerskin 
 given him by Neekomy. 
 
 In a little while traders were crowding about him, 
 eager to barter for his furs. Dismounting, he opened 
 some of the packs and displayed the pelts, spreading 
 them out on the ground. He dilated on their good 
 qualities, asked the traders to feel of them and see how 
 soft and silky they were, and how well cured and 
 stretched. He did not want articles in barter, he said, 
 — no clothing nor ornaments, no cloth, guns, axes nor 
 trinkets, only a little powder and ball ; he desired to 
 agree with some one upon the value that was to be 
 affixed to the furs, and receive in payment for them 
 an order for money on the Hudson Bay Company's 
 agent, McLoughlin, at Vancouver. 
 
 A Hudson Bay Company's representative stepped 
 out of the crowd and announced his readiness to comply 
 with this request. 
 
 Phil spent several hours with this agent of the Com- 
 pany, for the furs were many and valuable. The boy 
 was a shrewd, keen trader, and was stimulated by the 
 
54 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 knowledge that his father expected him to dispose of 
 the skins to the best advantage. The Hudson Bay man, 
 a canny Scot, was equally anxious to get them at the 
 lowest price, and so please his employers. Indian 
 methods were employed, a fur at a time being produced, 
 haggled over, Phil praising it and displaying its good 
 points, the trader pointing out with unfaiHng accuracy 
 its defects, until finally a price was agreed on, a memo- 
 randum made, and the fur was added to the pile that 
 had been accepted. 
 
 The beaver skin was the unit of value. Two marten 
 or two otter skins were worth five beaver skins, one 
 beaver skin was worth those of two white foxes ; and 
 for the skins of bears, deer, mink, and of all other ani- 
 mals the value was fixed by their worth in beaver skins. 
 
 Though Phil had stipulated that he must have an 
 order for currency on the Hudson Bay factor at Van- 
 couver, the Indians and most of the trappers disposed 
 of their furs in barter. Money they could not use ; but 
 they could use knives, guns, ammunition, traps, articles of 
 clothing, and hundreds of other things, including much 
 trumpery in the way of cheap ornament. In this sort 
 of barter, one beaver skin would buy a red handkerchief 
 or a hunting-knife, two would purchase an axe, while a 
 rifle, according to its make, style, and workmanship, was 
 valued at from ten to thirty or more. 
 
|ND,Ai\S an: trappers had gathered A30UT THEM/' 
 
AT GREEN RIVER 55 
 
 Before Phil had concluded his trafficking with the 
 Hudson Bay representative, many Indians and trappers 
 had gathered about them and the piles of furs, looking 
 on curiously, commenting, laughing, or asking questions. 
 Suddenly he heard a voice and a pronunciation that 
 struck him strangely, and looking round he beheld Tom 
 McKay, an old trapper friend of his father. 
 
 *' Hey, lad ! " said McKay, pushing forward out of the 
 crowd, with extended right hand. " To see ye lookin' 
 so hale an' hearty an' han'some tickles me as much as 
 if I'd run a splinter in my foot ! " 
 
 McKay was angular and sharp-featured, with peering 
 bright eyes. His clothing was soiled buckskin. In a 
 belt about his waist he carried a knife and tomahawk ; 
 his left hand held his long rifle. And it was a wonder- 
 ful rifle ! The long curved stock, which extended the 
 whole length of the gun, was studded at the breech with 
 brass nails set in fanciful patterns. The breech held 
 also a metal case for the greased patching which went 
 over the bullets; and breech and stock were colored 
 here and there, in the Indian fashion, with streaks of 
 red ochre. Tom McKay was noted as a marvellous shot 
 with that long rifle. '' At one hundred paces he could 
 drive a dozen balls through a Spanish dollar or knock 
 off a duck's head at one hundred and twenty yards." 
 He was a Hudson Bay man, — that is, he acknowledged 
 
56 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 a sort of allegiance to the factor of the Hudson Bay 
 Company at Fort Vancouver; and he now looked 
 keenly at the agent with whom Phil had been dickering, 
 as if to question whether the trader had been trying to 
 overreach the son of his old friend. 
 
 Phil had leaped to his feet when he beheld McKay, 
 and clasped the hand of the veteran trapper and moun- 
 tain man with much warmth of feeling. 
 
 Having received his order for payment on the factor 
 at Vancouver, Phil walked joyously away with McKay. 
 
 *'Lad, I'm here with Jo Meek," said the latter, as 
 they walked on. '' Some Injuns are here, too, from the 
 Oregon country — Nez Perces and Cayuses and other 
 ruck of that kind. How's the father ? " 
 
 ** He isn't well," said Phil, with a shade of sadness. 
 Then he proceeded to tell why he had come on to the 
 trading rendezvous alone, leaving his father with the 
 Cayuse band in the mountains. 
 
 '' That's all right," said McKay, almost as if the infor- 
 mation pleased him. '* 'Twill take more than a bit of 
 mountain fever to knock out a man Uke your father. 
 We're all going down to the Columby, — Jo Meek, and 
 myself, and the Injuns, and some other trappers ; but 
 he'll be there, I don't doubt, before we will. You must 
 go with our party." 
 
 " I shall be glad to ; and I'm glad to know there are 
 
AT GREEN RIVER 57 
 
 some Cayuses here," was Phil's answer. ** I'm a Cayuse 
 myself now ! " 
 
 McKay stopped and looked at him. 
 
 ''Just how.?" he said. "I don't see any paint and 
 feathers. You look a good deal like a white lad to me. 
 Injuns are all right; Jo Meek's got an Injun wife, and 
 a good many of the other trappers the same ; but for 
 myself, I prefer to have such a friend as you, or your 
 father, white." 
 
 Then Phil told of his adoption into the Indian band 
 of Tilskit, and of the accident and rescue which had 
 led to his becoming Timuitti's brother, to all of which 
 Tom McKay listened with grave attention. 
 
 " That's heap good, as the Injuns say," he commented. 
 ** Those Cayuses are the greatest pony Injuns in Ore- 
 gon ; it won't do you any harm to be a Cayuse, and 
 some time it may help. We'll go over to the Cayuse 
 lodges, where I'll introduce you and tell this story, and 
 we'll have a talk with your new relations. Come along ; 
 Jo Meek is over there." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 MARCUS WHITMAN 
 
 N that talk Phil Curtis heard for the first time the 
 name of Marcus Whitman. These Cayuses and 
 Nez Perces, he discovered, had journeyed all the way 
 from the Columbia to Green River to meet a man 
 named Marcus Whitman, who was coming to tell them 
 all about the White Man's Book. 
 
 When it was reported that Whitman and his party 
 were near, and would soon reach the rendezvous, the 
 Indian delegation from the Columbia made ready to 
 greet him in all the glory of their holiday attire. Their 
 beautiful spotted ponies were brought out and decked 
 with paint and feathers, dyed horsetail ornaments and 
 bits of gay cloth. The Indians themselves were bar- 
 baric in their splendor. 
 
 Phil accompanied the Cayuses and Nez Perces, as did 
 Tom McKay, Jo Meek, and many trappers, as well as 
 representatives of the Green River fur traders, when 
 they rode out in their fluttering finery to meet the great 
 '' Boston." 
 
 58 
 
MARCUS WHITMAN 59 
 
 All white men from the states were " Bostons " to the 
 Indians of the Columbia. The Columbia River had 
 been explored and named by a Boston sea captain, and 
 the early traders were largely from Boston. The lan- 
 guage used by these Indians in their traffic with the 
 whites was a jargon of Indian words and phrases mixed 
 with English words and corruptions of words, in which 
 " Boston " figured prominently. 
 
 When Whitman and his party came in sight, it was 
 seen to be but a small company, creeping along with a 
 rickety wagon which contained the camping outfit and 
 provisions. Three men and two Nez Perce boys were 
 walking in the dust of the trail, driving some cattle and 
 the horses that drew the wagon. High on two tired 
 horses rode two women. Behind all came a band of 
 trappers with whom Whitman had journeyed from the 
 Platte River. 
 
 A faint memory of his mother stirred when Phil 
 beheld the clear, white complexion of Narcissa Whit- 
 man and the delicate, refined beauty of Eliza Spalding. 
 The two women were brides, and this was their wed- 
 ding trip — a trying journey across the continent over 
 the hot plains where, roamed the w^arhke Sioux, Chey- 
 ennes, and Pawnees, and on and on, until now they had 
 crossed the terrible mountains, the first white women to 
 surmount the barrier of the great Rockies. 
 
6o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 The Indians were astonished when they saw those 
 two women. Narcissa's bright hair seemed to them to 
 be of spun gold. They gazed at her as if she were a 
 spirit descended from the skies. Then some of them 
 began to say that she must certainly be ill, she looked 
 so very white ! No one could be so white, they thought, 
 and be in good health. Yet Narcissa Whitman's health 
 was of the best, and in spite of her weariness her spirits 
 were bounding with enthusiasm. 
 
 Whitman and his missionary companion presented 
 quite a striking contrast to the rough mountain men 
 and trappers with their long hair and greasy buckskins 
 with whom Phil was so well acquainted. Whitman, 
 young, ruddy, blue-eyed, was arrayed in a suit of dusty 
 black. Spalding, tall and slender, was also clothed in 
 black. 
 
 The Indians yelled their delight and pranced their 
 ponies in welcome. The chiefs and head men, the 
 leading trappers and the representatives of the traders, 
 moved forward to greet Whitman and his companions. 
 The Nez Perce boys who were driving some of Whit- 
 man's cows forgot their charges and rushed to greet 
 their relatives from the Columbia. 
 
 Narcissa Whitman and Eliza Spalding looked on 
 with astonishment and perhaps with a feeling of trepi- 
 dation when they saw those prancing spotted ponies and 
 
MARCUS WHITMAN 6i 
 
 the flying feathers and ornaments of the Indians, and 
 heard the yells of the half-wild assembly. But they 
 preserved an outward coolness and gave kindly greeting 
 to all who approached them. 
 
 That afternoon Phil talked with Tom McKay about 
 the East, from which Whitman's party had come, and 
 about the work which Whitman intended to do on the 
 Columbia. 
 
 ** I can't give you any too many p'ints," said McKay, 
 as he sat with Phil and wrought a pair of moccasins, 
 "because I don't know any too much about it myself. 
 All I know is that these people are what they call mis- 
 sionaries, and are goin' out into the Oregon country to 
 preach to the Injuns and to start what they call mission 
 schools. The Methydists started a mission school 
 'mong the Nez Perces on the Columby three years ago ; 
 you may've heard of it. 'Twas started by two brothers, 
 Jason and David Lee, who came out to the mouth of 
 the Columby with ol' Nathan'el Wyeth, the Boston fur 
 trader. It done a heap of good, I'm told, and is runnin' 
 yit." 
 
 " Could a white boy study in their schools ? " Phil 
 asked, after a time of thought. 
 
 " Why, lad, I s'pose he might, if they was willin' 
 and he wanted to." 
 
 That night in the trapper's hut, listening to the 
 
62 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 heavy breathing of Tom McKay and Jo Meek, Phil 
 lay a long time thinking of this. Though all the lore 
 of the trapper and mountain man was at his fingers* 
 ends, and even though he could converse with half the 
 tribes of the mountain and coast Indians in their own 
 tongues, he was marvellously ignorant of the kind of 
 knowledge which is the peculiar possession of the white 
 man. He was conscious of his ignorance, too, though 
 he did not realize how deep it was. 
 
 Phil had been born at Independence, on the Missouri 
 River. It was then but a trapping and trading post ; 
 yet his mother had lived there. She had died when he 
 was a small boy, and he did not remember her very 
 well. From Independence, at a later period, he had 
 been brought to a more Western trading post, where he 
 had lived a long time with the trader's family. He 
 recalled other homes he had dwelt in ; but all of 
 them were traders' or trappers' homes, or Indian lodges. 
 Much of the time, since he had grown old and strong 
 enough, had been spent with his father on the trapping 
 grounds or on long, perilous journeys. 
 
 With the dawn Phil Curtis was out. Many of the 
 Indians and trappers were astir. Smoke from break- 
 fast fires was rising in the clear morning air. One of 
 the largest and best of the Cayuse lodges had been set 
 apart for the missionaries. After a time, seeing smoke 
 
MARCUS WHITMAN 6$ 
 
 rise from it, Phil walked toward it, impelled by a desire 
 to have a talk with Marcus Whitman. Some Indians 
 were lounging about the entrance, among them a few 
 squaws who were trying to satisfy their curiosity by 
 staring in now and then in the hope of seeing the 
 strange white women. 
 
 As Phil Curtis approached the lodge, Narcissa Whit- 
 man came to the entrance, and, observing him, invited 
 him in. 
 
 "Have a seat," said Whitman, rising and offering 
 him an apology for a stool. '' I think I saw you with 
 the trappers who came out to meet us yesterday." 
 
 " And I'll take your cap," said Narcissa, looking with 
 admiration at Phil's embroidered and ornamented suit 
 of buckskin. 
 
 " I've been told you're going down to the Columbia," 
 said Phil, feeling awkward as he gave his cap to Nar- 
 cissa and took the stool. ''I'm going that way myself, 
 with Tom McKay, Jo Meek, and some others." 
 
 "Are you acquainted with the Oregon country.''" 
 said Whitman, interested at once. 
 
 "Well acquainted with it," Phil answered. "My 
 father is on his way there now ; I've been here selling 
 furs, and I shall follow him, going by the regular trail. 
 It's the trail you are to go by, I've heard." 
 
 Instantly Whitman and Spalding began to question 
 
64 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 him concerning the Oregon country. They wanted to 
 know just what its nature was and all about the Indians 
 who inhabited it. 
 
 Phil's knowledge was very full on those points, he 
 was glad to know. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding 
 took part in this catechising. 
 
 '' See here," said Whitman, suddenly, " you're just the 
 one we want to go with us ; you know more about that 
 country and those Indians than any one I've seen yet." 
 
 '* He's more willing to tell, anyway," said Narcissa, 
 brightly. 
 
 Phil flushed with pleasure. 
 
 " I've been thinking that maybe I'd like to go into 
 your mission school, when you start it, to study books, 
 you know, and to learn about the states, and the way 
 white people do. Though I'm white, I don't know 
 many of the things white people know, I'm afraid ; 
 what I know is mostly the things that Indians learn, 
 and trappers." 
 
 " My dear boy," said Narcissa, her face beaming, " I 
 shall be only too glad to teach you whatever I can. It 
 will be a real pleasure to me." 
 
 Eliza Spalding said the same. 
 
 " I heard some queer stories, from the Cayuses and 
 Nez Perces, as to why you came," said Phil, after he 
 had thanked them. 
 
MARCUS WHITMAN 65 
 
 " It's a wonderful story," Marcus Whitman declared, 
 "a perfectly wonderful story. The thing is almost 
 unbelievable, yet it's true. Those Indians sent a delega- 
 tion of four chiefs all the way from Oregon to the city 
 of St. Louis in search of information concerning the 
 Bible, of which they had heard. Catlin, the artist, 
 met two of the chiefs on the Missouri River, while they 
 were on their return, travelled with them for a long 
 distance, and made pictures of them. Only two of 
 them started back for the Columbia, for two of them 
 died in St. Louis the winter after their arrival there. 
 Of the two who started on the return trip, only one 
 lived to reach home. And he arrived without any 
 white man with him to tell his people the story of the 
 White Man's Book, as they called it. 
 
 "The story of that journey of the Cayuse Indians to 
 St. Louis in search of some one who could tell their 
 people all about the Bible was published. It stirred 
 us, for it was hke that call which Paul heard. * Come 
 over into Macedonia and help us ! ' We answered the 
 call, and we are here." 
 
 Marcus Whitman's face was shining as he left off 
 speaking. His enthusiasm was so great and so infec- 
 tious that all felt it. 
 
 '' And you must go with us ! " said Narcissa Whit- 
 man. "This meeting with you here is certainly provi- 
 
66 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 dential. You know the Indian languages, of which we 
 are still ignorant. While we teach you, you can teach 
 us. Oh, you must go ! " 
 
 " Anything troublin' you, lad } " said Tom McKay, 
 meeting Phil near the lodge a Httle later. 
 
 " No," Phil answered. 
 
 " Well, I thought you seemed a bit excited." 
 
 " Perhaps I am," said Phil. '' I've had a talk with 
 Mr. Whitman and the other members of his party, and 
 I'm going down the trail with them to the Columbia." 
 
 "We're all goin' down that trail to the Columby, and 
 goin' when they go, Hkely." 
 
 *' Yes, but I'm to help them in their talks with the 
 Indians, and they're to take me into their mission 
 school, where I'm to learn things, — learn about books, 
 get an education, if father is willing." 
 
 McKay looked at his young friend earnestly. 
 
 " Lad, I think ye're right ! Education is a great 
 thing. I haven't got any too much of it myself, but 
 I've got enough to know that. Never fear but your 
 father will see it as you do. He'll be more than 
 
 willin'." 
 
 Whitman and his party remained at Green River 
 two weeks to rest. During that time the Columbia 
 River Indians did everything possible to demonstrate 
 their delight and good-will. They sent hunting parties 
 
MARCUS WHITMAN 67 
 
 into the mountains, and fishing parties to the river, 
 and kept Whitman's table loaded with game and 
 fish. Finally they induced the other Indians at the 
 trading rendezvous to join them in a great war tourna- 
 ment, in which all appeared in fluttering feathers and 
 wonderful head-dresses, their bodies daubed with paint, 
 executing many Indian evolutions on their beautiful 
 ponies. The tournament was concluded with a grand 
 charge of six hundred armed and mounted braves in all 
 the glory of war-paint, yelHng as only Indians can yell. 
 It was certainly a realistic demonstration — almost too 
 realistic for the mental comfort of Mrs. Whitman and 
 Mrs. Spalding, who showed some nervousness when 
 this yelling line of painted warriors came charging 
 toward them. 
 
 When Whitman started on toward the Columbia, he 
 was accompanied by a body of trappers led by Tom 
 McKay and Jo Meek, and including Phil Curtis. Phil 
 had the fur trader's order on the Vancouver factor 
 stowed snugly away in an inner pocket of his hunting- 
 shirt. Mounted on the handsomest of the Cayuse 
 ponies, —he had sold the others he brought with him 
 from Tilskit's village, —he rode at the side of Tom 
 McKay near the head of the trapper column, and his 
 heart was light. 
 
 At Fort Hall the Hudson Bay factor tried to dis- 
 
68 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 suade Whitman from attempting to take his wagon far- 
 ther, picturing in strong terms the difficulties of the 
 way. But Whitman knew why he wanted to take that 
 wagon as far as he could, and he went on with it to 
 Fort Boise. 
 
 At Walla Walla, Phil had news of his father. 
 
 "Ay, yes," said Monsieur Pambrun, the factor, 
 " your father was here with some Cayuse Indians and 
 has gone on to Vancouver. He arrived but three days 
 ago, and left yesterday. Monsieur Curtis spoke of his 
 son, who was to come ; and you are he ? You are wel- 
 come ; and he is quite well again, he told me to say to 
 you." 
 
 Seaward from Walla Walla in canoes floated Whitman 
 and his companions, until, through palisaded heights 
 and mountainous canon walls, where the Columbia 
 roared and frothed like the sea, they arrived by and 
 by at their destination. 
 
 The continent had been crossed by Marcus Whitman, 
 and with his coming to the Columbia and to Fort Van- 
 couver a new era had come to Oregon. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 
 
 THE great Columbia ruffled its surface until the 
 white caps tossed their spray. Monique, the 
 Iroquois boatman, tall and lithe, straight as an Oregon 
 pine, his black hair floating snakily from under its 
 head-band, brown body and brown arms moving, eagle 
 eye fixed on the shore, poised and dipped his shining 
 paddle ; and every oarsman dipped with him, pulling 
 for the land where stood Fort Vancouver. Like the 
 landing at Plymouth, this arrival of Whitman and his 
 party was a historic event long to be remembered. 
 
 On the shore, in the midst of a throng composed 
 of Indians with fluttering head-dresses, gay Canadian 
 boatmen with swart faces and hair bound about with 
 scarlet handkerchiefs, women in Indian garb and in 
 silks and laces, stood the noted Hudson Bay factor, 
 John McLoughlin, the White-headed Eagle of the 
 Columbia, as the Indians called him, ready to welcome 
 the strangers. White as the drifted snow was the hair 
 of the great white chief ; perils in the Western wilds 
 
 69 
 
70 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 had whitened it in a night ! Stately and grand he 
 looked, in his blue cloth coat with its two rows of 
 bright silver buttons, and that sweep of snowy hair 
 flowing down on his broad shoulders. At his side 
 stood John Curtis, the father of Phil, the trapper 
 boy. 
 
 Monique, poising his paddle as a cheer of welcome 
 rocked the air, drove the nose of his canoe against the 
 shore. The other canoes followed ; the waiting crowd 
 swarmed down to the boats, and the occupants, some 
 laughing, some almost crying, were shaking hands with 
 friends and loved ones, from whom many had been long 
 separated. Phil was in his father's arms. 
 
 How well John Curtis was looking ! Phil saw that, 
 with delight, at the first glance. The weakness which 
 had prostrated him had passed away and he was again 
 the bronzed and lusty woodsman, sinewy of body, stout 
 of heart, and keen of eye. 
 
 " Ay, you're good to look on, boy ! " he cried. 
 " And I'm well. Heaven be thanked ! Ah, and 
 there's McKay, and Jo Meek, and Baptiste Latour ! " 
 
 Into the clerks' quarters, called Bachelors' Hall, John 
 Curtis led Phil, followed by McKay and others. There 
 the boy told of the incidents of his trip to Green River, 
 of the sale of the furs, and produced the order on the 
 Vancouver factor. 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 71 
 
 " You did well, Phil," said his father, when he had 
 heard the story and received the slip of paper ; '* as 
 well as I could have done myself. And I knew that 
 you would." 
 
 Madame IMcLoughlin and her daughter, Eloise, 
 dressed as nearly as possible in London fashion, 
 made Narcissa Whitman and Eliza Spalding com- 
 fortable in the well-furnished parlor and sitting room 
 of the fort. 
 
 That night the walls of the old post at Vancouver 
 were greeted with strange music. Usually they had 
 echoed to the songs of Indian boatmen, trappers, and 
 Canadian voyageurs ; the rafters had rung with Scotch 
 and English melodies, and with patriotic and senti- 
 mental airs. Now they gave back the sweet tones of 
 Narcissa Whitman, as she sang the songs which mis- 
 sionaries love. More than forty years afterward, men 
 who heard her that night spoke of her singing in 
 words of praise. 
 
 " She's got the voice of an angel," said rough Tom 
 McKay, whose heart was like that of a woman. " Ay, 
 lad, and she looks like an angel, with her hair of gold 
 and cheeks like lilies. It almost makes one a Chris- 
 tian to know that such a woman would come to a coun- 
 try like this to try to lift up and civilize such people 
 as Injuns." 
 
72 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil Curtis had not fit words in which to express the 
 pleasure he felt. As for McLoughlin, Phil would have 
 found himself equally at a loss if he had tried to ex- 
 press in words his admiration of this man. For years 
 he had known him as his father's best friend. 
 
 For a thousand miles McLoughlin was the greatest 
 name on the lips of men. Assiniboins spoke of him 
 in their lodges on what are now the Manitoban plains ; 
 farther to the eastward Crees and Ojibways sounded 
 his praises; in Eskimo igloos the fur-dressed trappers 
 of the frozen Arctic acknowledged his sway, and the 
 wild Utes and wilder Blackfeet feared his power. For 
 he was chief factor of the great Hudson Bay Fur 
 Company, and at that time the Hudson Bay Fur Com- 
 pany ruled the Northwestern wilderness. His dominion 
 was an empire in extent and wealth, almost unknown 
 except to a few men who managed the Company from 
 their London offices, and if not unknown, almost com- 
 pletely ignored and wholly undervalued by the people 
 of the United States and the authorities at Washington. 
 
 Over his wild realm McLoughlin wielded the sceptre 
 of an autocrat. He could be iron, when crime had to 
 be punished. But his rule was one of mildness and 
 conciliation. The gates of his fort — and that fort had 
 the strength of a castle of the Middle Ages — were 
 thrown wide open in welcome to all who came in 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 73 
 
 friendship. His hospitality was given with a Hberality 
 as unstinted as his kindness. He sought to deal honor- 
 ably with all men ; he was not grasping, nor covetous, 
 but generous and Hberal, whether he was trafficking 
 with a trapper or treating with a refractory Indian 
 chief. 
 
 Such a man was McLoughlin, the White-headed 
 Eagle of the Columbia, who ruled his vast empire of 
 mountains, forests, and plains for a quarter of a cen- 
 tury, his sceptre of iron and fire concealed in the velvet 
 of kind words and gracious deeds. 
 
 It had been the intention of Marcus Whitman to 
 locate at the Dalles, where the Columbia narrows in a 
 rocky cleft. Here salmon were to be found in prodi- 
 gious numbers, and here crowded the fishing Indians by 
 thousands every season. 
 
 " The Dalles Indians are treacherous and unreliable," 
 said McLoughlin. ** Go up among the Indians of the 
 Walla Walla ; they are the finest tribe in this part of 
 the continent." 
 
 Back to the Walla Walla went Whitman, accom- 
 panied by Phil Curtis and others. Spalding went to 
 the Clearwater, to start a mission among the Nez 
 Perces. Narcissa Whitman and Eliza Spalding re- 
 mained for a time at Vancouver. 
 
 The Cayuse Indians knew of Whitman's coming, and 
 
74 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 awaited him in great numbers at Waiilatpu (the Land 
 of the Rye Grass). Timuitti was there, with Tilskit 
 and Neekomy, and they greeted Phil joyously. A 
 cavalcade of Cayuses followed Whitman and his com- 
 panions as they rode through the tall rye grass, looking 
 for a site for the mission. They were accompanied by 
 their chiefs, Five Crows and his brother Tauitau ; 
 Tiloukaikt, whose face was almost black and whose 
 voice rang out like a bugle ; Tilskit, Phil's Indian foster 
 father ; and the noted Pio-pio-mox-mox, whose name 
 meant Yellow Serpent. 
 
 With Pio-pio-mox-mox was his son, a brave, handsome 
 boy, who was dressed in the finery of an Indian, but 
 who bore the name of Elijah. He had been attending 
 the Methodist mission school a year now, and had there 
 been baptized by Jason Lee, who had given him the 
 name of Elijah Hedding. 
 
 Probably another such group never rode forth to 
 select a location for a Christian school. Phil Curtis, in 
 his ornamented suit of buckskin, was not half so strik- 
 ing in appearance as Elijah, the son of Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox; and the gorgeousness of Elijah's raiment was 
 dulled when it was compared with the fluttering head 
 feathers, the ornamental stripes of paint, the fringed 
 and beaded leggings and moccasins, and the brass- 
 circleted wrists and ankles of many of the men and 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 75 
 
 women of those Cayuse bands. And the beautiful 
 spotted ponies ! They were painted and feathered as 
 wonderfully as their riders. The cavalcade was warlike 
 in appearance, too, though its mission was peace; for 
 the Indian braves carried bows and arrows, guns, 
 lances, and tomahawks. 
 
 Fort Vancouver was far away on the Columbia ; and 
 Walla Walla, where dwelt the nearest white man, was 
 distant too. Scattered on the fringe of the rye grass 
 meadow, and dotting the surrounding hills, were the 
 conical skin lodges of the Cayuses, while their ponies 
 grazed on the level plains and beside the river in 
 great herds. 
 
 Before even a comfortable shelter was provided, 
 Whitman began his work of teaching and preaching. 
 The Indians flocked in crowds to hear him. 
 
 Those early days at Waiilatpu were happy days to 
 Phil. Timuitti joined him in the work which Whitman 
 planned. The two went along the river, where they 
 selected trees and hacked at them to fell them. They 
 pulled at the saws in the work of ripping boards. 
 Whenever Whitman found a breathing space in which 
 he could give Phil instruction, Timuitti stood by, appar- 
 ently with as great a desire for an education as the boy 
 whom he proudly called his white brother. 
 
 In the month of December, 1836, Marcus Whitman 
 
76 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 brought his wife to the new mission at Waiilatpu. The 
 Cayuses swarmed in from the hills when they heard of 
 her arrival. Soon a school was organized, with Phil 
 and Timuitti among the pupils. 
 
 Elijah came down from the Columbia about Christmas, 
 and he and the other two boys made a hunting trip into 
 the mountains. Though they went gladly, it was at 
 Whitman's request to procure a winter supply of game, 
 and they took ponies on which to pack the venison they 
 hoped to bring back with them. Joseph, having made 
 his appearance at the mission with some wandering Nez 
 Perces, also joined the hunting party of which Phil was 
 the acknowledged leader. As Chief Joseph, the bright, 
 kindly boy became in after years a famous Nez Perce 
 war chief. 
 
 The Oregon country was a very paradise for the 
 hunter. It is little wonder that the Cayuses and Nez 
 Perces loved the land which was their home, for its 
 rivers swarmed with the finest of fish ; and in numbers 
 almost as incredible deer, elk, and antelopes roamed the 
 plains, the mountains, and the forests. 
 
 Phil Curtis was a skilled hunter, and the Indian boys 
 came of a hunting race. The game-filled mountains 
 and plains were open before them to go where they 
 willed, and they could not go amiss. They were masters 
 of the rifle and of the bow and arrow. Phil could draw 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 77 
 
 an arrow to the head on the strongest Indian bow and 
 send it with aim as true as Elijah, Timuitti, or Joseph. 
 
 It was glorious sport riding through the mountains, 
 and by the rivers where the tall grass flaunted. Though 
 there was snow on the mountains, there was none in the 
 valleys. Game was everywhere. Even the bears were 
 still nosing about, grubbing for roots and hunting for 
 dried berries. Throughout the clear bright days the 
 boys hunted ; at night they camped wherever they 
 chanced to be, building their fire and cooking their cuts 
 of juicy venison, of elk or bear's meat, on the glowing 
 coals, or spitted on green sticks held in the snapping 
 blaze. 
 
 When they returned to Waiilatpu their ponies were 
 laden with the results of the hunt. Flour was exor- 
 bitantly high at Walla Walla, and luxuries were not 
 to be had at all ; but there was now a bountiful supply 
 of the choicest game, and dried fish was plentiful. So 
 no one was likely to go hungry. 
 
 The school went on, and the preaching. The 
 Cayuses and many Nez Perces thronged to hear 
 Narcissa Whitman sing. If they did not understand 
 the words, they could not miss the message of sweetness 
 and kindness which the music held. And Phil Curtis, 
 applying himself with diligence to his studies, made 
 progress that the Whitmans regarded as marvellous. 
 
78 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 But Marcus Whitman's efforts to induce the Cayuses 
 to settle near him in something like a permanent vil- 
 lage and farm the rich valley land were not very 
 successful. 
 
 " Why should we do this ? " was their demand. 
 " When we want the wapato, which you call the Indian 
 potato, all we have to do is to wait until the winter 
 rains are over, when our women can go into the marshes 
 and dig them for us. When we want the camas roots, 
 we have but to wait until in the summer the stalks die 
 to the ground, and the camas are ready for the digging, 
 and our squaws do the work — it is not man's work to 
 dig ; it is not man's work to do what you call farming. 
 And it is not needed, for our camas and wapato grow 
 without our labor. 
 
 *' When the waters rush roaring into the rivers from 
 the sea, the salmon come in such numbers that they 
 almost squeeze the water out of the streams, and we 
 have but to take them — take all we need. In the 
 mountains, in the woods, everywhere on the land, our 
 guns and our bows and arrows bring us down game, — 
 bears, deer, elk, antelopes, buffalo, — why should we 
 rear animals for food ? We rear our Cayuse ponies ; is 
 not that enough ? We hunt the deer in the hills, and 
 the buffalo beyond the Snake River ; the mountains are 
 filled with berries which are to be had for the gathering. 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUxMBIA 79 
 
 " And we do not like to live long in one place. It is 
 not the life we love. We like to move to the Columbia 
 when the salmon run ; we like to live in the cool moun- 
 tains when the berries ripen ; we like to wander beyond 
 the Snake where the buffalo herd ; we like to camp on 
 the prairie when the nights are dry and the stars snap 
 in the sky like coals of fire, and the wind sings its 
 song in the tall grass. We do not care for a house 
 that cannot be moved ; our lodges, which we can set 
 up here to-day and take down to-morrow, are much 
 better." 
 
 So the Cayuses came and departed, and came again 
 and departed. For weeks at a time Phil Curtis would 
 see nothing of his Indian brother, Timuitti, nor of Tilskit 
 or Neekomy ; then he would awake some morning to 
 find Timuitti knocking on his door, and Neekomy and 
 Tilskit grinning in the yard, while out just beyond by 
 the river their lodge would be pitched, with perhaps 
 other lodges about it, and the ponies grazing peacefully 
 on the rye grass. 
 
 Nevertheless the mission at Waiilatpu was not un- 
 successful, though it did not accomplish all that Whit- 
 man hoped for. Phil Curtis not only shot up to the 
 verge of manhood, but became as well educated as any 
 youth of his age whose early years had not been 
 neglected. But were those early years neglected — 
 
8o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 wasted ? Surely not ! For now, in addition to the 
 ordinary education which every boy in a civilized land 
 receives, he had accumulated a marvellous store of 
 mountain lore and wisdom. 
 
 He knew how the Blackfeet transport their villages, 
 how the mountain partridge builds her nest, how the 
 doe hides her young, when the buffalo herds move and 
 why, the difference between a Pawnee arrow and the 
 arrow of the Sioux, in what way an Assiniboin snow- 
 shoe resembles the snowshoe of a Cree, why some 
 Indian tribes make their bows of elkhorn and others of 
 hickory, and the thousand and one other things which 
 his father had taught him, or he had learned by obser- 
 vation and experience. 
 
 So in a pecuhar and most important sense Phil Curtis 
 possessed a rare and valuable education, which might 
 stand him in good stead in perilous times, and in all 
 times would be a source of gratification. 
 
 John Curtis visited his son at the mission school 
 frequently, but for himself he was too much wedded to 
 the trapper life to care to give it up for anything that 
 civilization could offer. Yet he was proud of Phil, and 
 took especial deHght in his advancement in knowledge. 
 
 Tom McKay, Jo Meek, and other trappers also 
 stopped at the mission school on their trips to and fro 
 between the mountains and Vancouver. 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE OF THE COLUMBIA 8i 
 
 " Ay, lad, ye'll be a great man some day, I have no 
 doubt," said McKay, characteristically. '' Education is 
 a great thing. I haven't any too much of it myself, but 
 I have enough to know that." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 PROPHETS OF EVIL 
 
 STANDING one day with Timuitti and Elijah, be- 
 fore Tilskit's lodge, by the silver Walla Walla, 
 Phil Curtis heard a queer sound. The ponies, grazing 
 in the rye grass, heard it also. They threw up their 
 heads, listened, then ran, snorting. 
 
 Timuitti was tall and straight now, a handsome youth, 
 though Indian in every feature. Elijah was also tall, 
 even handsomer, and much better educated, for he 
 seemed to have a natural liking for the white man's 
 books. But even he, much as he knew, could not tell 
 what that strange clicking meant. It was not a clicking 
 of horns or hoofs, nor even the squeaking of a Cayuse 
 saddle. 
 
 The boys stepped round the lodge quickly and looked 
 in the direction of the sound. Old Tilskit came out 
 hurriedly, and he, too, looked. 
 
 " Horse canoe ! " he exclaimed, in much surprise. 
 
 Over the slight rise came a wagon drawn by ponies — 
 the very one which Marcus Whitman had left at Fort 
 
 82 
 
PROPHETS OF EVIL S^ 
 
 Boise so long before. Jo Meek sat on the driver's seat, 
 wielding the lash. In the wagon behind him were his 
 Indian wife and children. 
 
 Whitman came out when he heard the shouts. See- 
 ing the wagon and recognizing it as his, his face Hghted 
 with pleasure, and he went up to Meek, holding out his 
 hand in congratulation. 
 
 ''Thought I'd bring it through," said Meek. "Al- 
 lowed it would make the travelling easier fer th' wife 
 an' babies ; but if I'd knowed what a job it would be, I 
 reckon I'd left it behind at Boise." 
 
 " Well, I must thank you for bringing it through," 
 said Whitman, and it seemed that he spoke with strange 
 earnestness. " I wanted to prove to everybody that a 
 wagon could be brought over the mountains from the 
 states. You have finished the work for me. And now 
 we have the proof. A wagon can come through to this 
 point from the East — this wagon has come through! 
 Where one wagon can go, others can go. It will encour- 
 age all those people who will want to come, and there 
 are many of them. In a few years, Jo, this valley will 
 contain thousands of people ! " 
 
 The Cayuses were crowding thickly about to look at 
 the wonderful "horse canoe." When Jo Meek snapped 
 his whip and the ponies drew the wagon forward, the 
 Indians fell back in alarm and astonishment. It was a 
 
84 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 mystery — a canoe moving over the ground on those 
 queer rollers ! Some of them had heard of that unbe- 
 lievable thing, and there were a few who had seen the 
 like; yet it was a mystery, a strange mystery. They 
 shook their heads, they talked rapidly, and pointed at 
 it as it rolled along. " CHck-a-hck-lick ! " they said, in 
 imitation of the sound it made. " Yes, it was medicine ; 
 and it might be bad medicine. These white men did 
 strange things ; they were wizards ! " 
 
 Jo Meek announced that he was tired of trapping, and 
 meant to settle down in the valley of the Willamette. 
 
 '' The beaver air gittin' so scarce in the mountains 
 that trappin' don't pay any more," he said. " I think 
 I'll try farmin' ; you've got a mill here now, and there's 
 one at Vancouver. Game is gittin' scarcer, too, as well 
 as beaver." 
 
 The story of the wonderful " horse canoe " went from 
 lip to Hp among the Cayuses and the Nez Perces ; it 
 reached even to the wilder tribes in the mountains and 
 far to the northward. And with that story went the 
 statement of Whitman, dropped unguardedly no doubt, 
 that soon there would be thousands of white men in 
 the valley of the Walla Walla. Jo Meek had said the 
 beaver were becoming scarce and the game scarce, too ; 
 and white men were coming ! 
 
 The statement was exaggerated, as all stories are 
 
PROPHETS OF EVIL 85 
 
 which pass in that manner from mouth to mouth. Soon 
 the Indians began to hear that the white men who were 
 to come would take all their land away from them, kill 
 off all the game, spear and slay all the salmon, and, 
 having deprived the Indians of food, would reduce them 
 to slavery, and make them grind grain in the mills and 
 follow the ploughs in the fat soil of the river valleys. 
 
 " It is as I told you ! " squeaked the old Indian sor- 
 ceress, Waskema. *' When the first white man came 
 over the mountains, I said to you that he was like the 
 first salmon, and that in a little while others would fol- 
 low him. You have seen the hunters increase in the 
 hills until now the beaver are gone and the deer are 
 being slain by their long-shooting guns. Doct' Whit'n 
 ploughs up the ground and kills the camas roots. Soon 
 we shall have to become white people ourselves, or 
 starve." 
 
 Waskema was withered, wrinkled, and old. She had 
 strange powers, the Indians believed ; she could foretell 
 the future, she could fall into a sleep and behold won- 
 derful visions, she could mix roots and herbs into decoc- 
 tions that would set fire to the tongue and take the 
 breath from the body, she communicated with spirits 
 and talked familiarly with demons. She hobbled about 
 with a bent stick for a staff, peering out with burning 
 eyes, her sunken lips moving and muttering marvellous 
 
86 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 wisdom. The tribe feared her ; she had power to make 
 them marvel, and they beheved in her. 
 
 From the first she had prophesied that evil would 
 come with the coming of the white man. She had 
 learned to hate Whitman and his mission school. The 
 success of his teachings lessened lier influence as a 
 sorceress. She claimed to be a healer ; and Whitman, 
 with his greater skill and knowledge of medicine, had 
 stripped her of much of her practice. Therefore she 
 spoke against him and against all white men with fierce 
 vehemence. 
 
 Old Waskema was not alone in her denunciations of 
 the white men and in her prophesying of evil to come 
 from their presence. She had a strong ally in Baptiste 
 Dorion, the half-breed interpreter, whose mother was 
 celebrated as a heroine by Washington Irving in "Asto- 
 ria." Another supporter was Delaware Tom, who 
 dwelt in a cabin in the Blue Mountains with a Nez 
 Perc6 wife. He was a half-breed Delaware Indian, 
 who had been educated at Dartmouth College, and had 
 then wandered to the wilds of the far West, where he 
 followed the calling of a trapper. 
 
 " You, Cayuses and Nez Perces," said Delaware Tom, 
 speaking to members of these tribes at various times, 
 " you will be by and by as are the Indian tribes of the 
 East, as is my tribe, the Delawares. You will be scat- 
 
PROPHETS OF EVIL 87 
 
 tered like the ashes of a camp-fire, you will disappear 
 like the camp-fire smoke. The tribes of the East were 
 far greater in numbers than the Nez Perces and Ca- 
 yuses; but the white man came, and the red men 
 dwindled away before him. Now they are gone. So it 
 will be with you. You shake your heads now, you do 
 not beheve ; but I have seen, and I know." 
 
 Phil Curtis heard of this talk through Timuitti and 
 Elijah. He knew Baptiste Dorion and Delaware Tom, 
 and he knew Waskema ; above all, he knew the Indian 
 character, and he was troubled. 
 
 As if to give point to these prophecies of evil and 
 emphasize the unguarded statement of Whitman that 
 the noted wagon would be the forerunner of others, it 
 became known that an emigrant party, after making its 
 way over the mountains, was approaching Walla Walla. 
 
 News of its approach ran among the Indians Hke fire 
 in dry grass. Pio-pio-mox-mox heard it from the lips of 
 his son, Elijah. He leaped on his pony and galloped 
 down the hills to Whitman's. 
 
 ''Is it true?" he demanded. "We hear that many, 
 many white men are coming ! We like you, Doct' 
 Whit'n, but we do not want too many white men to 
 come. They will plough up our camas and drive away 
 our game. Delaware Tom tells us so." 
 
 Five Crows and his brother Tauitau heard it, Tilou- 
 
88 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 kaikt heard it, so likewise did Tilskit, the father of 
 Timuitti. They, too, leaped to the backs of their spotted 
 ponies and rode like the wind to the mission. 
 
 By the time they arrived there the party which had 
 crossed the mountains was in sight. Phil Curtis, who 
 had been on a trip to Fort Walla Walla for Whitman, 
 jogged in on his pony at the same time. He beheld the 
 dust-stained and wearied group of white men, women, 
 and children, and his heart warmed toward them. But 
 he saw Five Crows and Pio-pio-mox-mox, Tiloukaikt 
 and Tauitau talking together, and he felt a sense of 
 uneasiness and alarm. 
 
 Whitman and his wife were more than delighted to 
 greet this party from the states. Narcissa laughed and 
 cried at the same time, as she kissed the women and 
 the girls. It was so good, she said, to see white faces ! 
 Whitman was so overjoyed that he ran from one to the 
 other of the party, shaking hands again and again. 
 
 " And you have letters for us," he said, to the leader 
 of the party. "And you must bring a great deal of 
 news, of which we haven't so much as heard a word ! 
 The last direct news we had was months ago, and 
 months old when it reached us. What is Congress 
 doing ? Does it realize yet that Oregon is an empire in 
 extent and is worth a thought at least } What about 
 the Oregon boundary } " 
 
PROPHETS OF EVIL 89 
 
 Though these questions, if heard by the Indians, 
 would not have been understood by them, they were 
 understood by Phil Curtis. Often he had heard Mr. 
 and Mrs. Whitman discuss the question of the boundary 
 between the possessions of the United States and those 
 of the British government, and he knew from these 
 talks that a serious struggle for the Oregon country 
 was one of the probabilities of the future, if the Wash- 
 ington authorities ever became aroused to the value of 
 the Columbia River region. 
 
 Whitman and his wife sat late that night talking with 
 the adult members of Lovejoy's party. 
 
 Phil Curtis, seated on a bench before an open fire in 
 the mission room, listened to the chatter of the young 
 people. The fireUght illuminated his handsome face, 
 which, though still dark and tanned, showed the refining 
 influence of the years spent by him in the Whitman 
 home and the education he had received. The won- 
 derful suit of ornamented deerskin given him by his 
 Indian mother Neekomy was outgrown and outworn 
 long ago. In its place was a suit of cloth, purchased at 
 Vancouver, and fashioned by the deft needle and clever 
 fingers of Narcissa Whitman. 
 
 When the little party, which was as gay as young 
 life and laughter could make it, had broken up for the 
 night, Phil strolled out under the stars. There he met 
 
90 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Timuitti, who was walking thoughtfully up and down 
 the river side. 
 
 *' I do not see why any one can object to the coming 
 of such people," he said to Timuitti. *'The Cayuses 
 and the Nez Perces are wrong in that. How jolly those 
 young people were ; and you'd think they would be too 
 tired to talk, they've travelled so far to-day to reach the 
 mission ! And that girl, Cora Carlton — did you see 
 what bright eyes she has, and what rosy cheeks .'' " 
 
 "I like the Cayuse girls better," said Timuitti, some- 
 what displeased, as it seemed to Phil. '* And I think 
 the Cayuses and the Nez Perces are right; for if the 
 white men come, a great many of them, what will 
 become of the Indian } He cannot farm ; there will be 
 no game for him to shoot ; so he will have to die ! " 
 
 Phil might have given more heed to these words of 
 his Indian foster brother if his thoughts had not been 
 too much distracted by memories of the bright eyes, 
 the rosy cheeks, and the witty sayings of the girl 
 who had arrived that day, and whose name was Cora 
 Carlton. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN IMPORTANT MATTER 
 
 THIS is one of the most important questions 
 that the American people were ever called 
 on to settle, and they seem to show not the slightest 
 interest in it ! " 
 
 Doctor Whitman was talking with Amos Lovejoy 
 and Elijah White. The former was a lawyer and 
 miUtary man ; the latter a government Indian agent, 
 who had been the real leader of the party that had 
 arrived at Waiilatpu the day before. The subject had 
 been uppermost in the conversation of the previous 
 evening, and to these men it was the most important 
 theme that could be discussed at that time. 
 
 Phil Curtis stood by the mission door with pretty 
 Cora Carlton. She had asked him to show her where 
 the camas grew, and to tell her something about them 
 and about that wonderful Indian potato, the wapato of 
 the marshes ; so they set out together, walking by the 
 river. 
 
 " I think this is a beautiful country," she said, as she 
 
 91 
 
92 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 looked across the rolling plain to the misty Blue 
 Mountains. '' Mr. White told us all about it before 
 we arrived, but until I saw it I did not realize it would 
 be so pretty. I am sure I shall like to live here. I 
 don't wonder that Doctor Whitman is anxious for the 
 United States to become secure in the possession of 
 Oregon." 
 
 Her fair face and blue eyes showed interest and 
 animation. As Phil had said to Timuitti, her eyes 
 were bright and her cheeks rosy. Altogether, he was 
 sure, as he now looked at her, that he had never seen 
 a girl so beautiful. He already knew that she was 
 related to Lovejoy; and he had met her father, who 
 was a member of the expedition. He had not spoken 
 to her mother, but he had seen her talking with Mrs. 
 Whitman, and had observed that she was a bright-faced 
 and pleasant-voiced woman. 
 
 " I don't suppose this country looks very much like 
 the East ? " he said, as they walked on. " Your home 
 was in Pennsylvania, I understand." 
 
 "Not at all like it. Pennsylvania is a dear old 
 state, though, and I shall never cease to love it. I 
 really didn't want to come out here, I must confess ; 
 but I think I shall be quite satisfied, now that I have 
 seen Oregon." 
 
 Phil smiled. 
 
AN BIPORTANT MATTER 93 
 
 "You are sure to be satisfied, when you have seen 
 all of Oregon. I have never been in the East, but I 
 don't see how it can be superior to Oregon. Looking 
 from here you see only these plains, a few trees by the 
 river, some hills and those mountains ; but this doesn't 
 represent Oregon. It's only a little part of it. Oregon 
 has everything, it seems to me. It has a really won- 
 derful river, the Columbia, with cliffs so high in places 
 that it almost makes one dizzy to look up to the top of 
 them, and great waterfalls and rapids. Then there are 
 hundreds and hundreds of miles of the biggest trees 
 there are in the world, I am sure. And mountains ! 
 There are some very large mountains out here — as 
 big as any you saw while on the trip. And the game 
 and the fish ! I wish you could see the salmon swarm- 
 ing in the Columbia, some time I " 
 
 " Are there any fish in this river ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, a good many ; we catch them now and then." 
 
 "All of them.?" 
 
 She laughed merrily. 
 
 " No, not all of them, of course," said Phil, flushing. 
 "We couldn't do that. You must believe what the 
 Indians say." 
 
 " What is that ? " she asked. 
 
 "That we're going to catch all the salmon in the 
 Columbia. That's one of the things Delaware Tom 
 
94 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 tells them. He says the white men will catch all the 
 fish, kill all the game, and dig up and ruin all the 
 camas fields ; and that then the Indians will have to 
 starve, or go to work like the white men." 
 
 She looked thoughtful as they walked on. 
 
 "Aren't you afraid you will have trouble with the 
 Indians after a while ? The people of the train were 
 talking about that nearly all the way over the moun- 
 tains. There has always been trouble, they say, where 
 white people and Indians come together." 
 
 Her question made Phil thoughtful too. 
 
 " I have been trying to think that we never shall 
 have trouble with these Indians. Doctor Whitman has 
 been so good to them, and they like him and Mrs. 
 Whitman so well. They seem glad to listen to his 
 preaching, and a good many of them have joined his 
 church. Pio-pio-mox-mox has joined, and so have Til- 
 skit and Tiloukaikt and other chiefs. And they let 
 their children come here to the mission school. All 
 Indians are not alike. It seems to me that Tilskit and 
 old Neekomy are different ; and so are Timuitti, Elijah, 
 and Joseph. Elijah is one of the finest boys I ever 
 knew." 
 
 " What queer names they have ! " she said. " I 
 shouldn't think you could remember them. Elijah 
 and Joseph, though, are Bible names." 
 
AN IMPORTANT MATTER 95 
 
 "Yes," he said, and proceeded to tell her how these 
 Indian boys came to have such names. 
 
 They walked on and on until they came to the camas 
 fields. 
 
 ''You heard what Doctor Whitman and Mr. White 
 were talking about .'' " she said, as he began to point 
 out the dead camas stalks. 
 
 ''About Oregon and the United States.'' They were 
 talking about that all last evening." 
 
 "And the English!" 
 
 "There's one Englishman in this country — though 
 he is really a Scotchman — who is a good friend to Whit- 
 man, and that is Doctor McLoughlin, the Hudson Bay 
 factor at Vancouver. He is Whitman's friend, I sup- 
 pose, because he's a friend to everybody. But the 
 other Englishmen and Scotchmen are acting very queer 
 lately." 
 
 He bent over and with his knife began to dig up the 
 camas. 
 
 " Since I have been attending Doctor Whitman's 
 school I've been more glad than ever that I'm an 
 American ! " 
 
 " More glad than ever } Weren't you always glad .? " 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so." He stood up and looked at 
 her. " But I didn't understand what it means to be an 
 American as I do now. and didn't think so much about 
 
96 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 it. Until I came to Whitman's, you know, I lived all 
 my life nearly in the mountains with trappers and 
 Indians. My father was a free trapper, and a true 
 American, I am glad to say ; but most of the trappers 
 were under the Hudson Bay Fur Company, which is 
 English ; and as far as the Indians were concerned, 
 they didn't care anything at all about this question of 
 nationality. But I am an American, and I love 
 America ! " 
 
 Phil flushed when she laughed girlishly at this out- 
 burst ; but he was immediately reassured. 
 
 '' You can't love America more than I do. And it's 
 because Doctor Whitman loves America so much that 
 he wants Oregon to become a part of it. I don't blame 
 him ; I want it to become a part of our country, too. 
 It's too beautiful to go to the English ! " 
 
 It was Phil's turn to laugh. 
 
 " And the English think it's too beautiful to become 
 a part of the United States ! So, you see, there's 
 where the trouble comes in. The English claim Ore- 
 gon because Vancouver explored the coast, and the 
 Americans claim it through the discoveries of Lewis 
 and Clark, and because an American sea captain 
 explored the Columbia and named it for his ship." 
 
 " But I don't suppose there will really be a war about 
 it." 
 
AN IMPORTANT MAITER 97 
 
 Phil dropped down and began to dig again for the 
 camas root. 
 
 " I don't know," he said. '' I read in a history the 
 other day that a big war was started once over so little 
 a thing as the ownership of a bucket." 
 
 Whitman, White, and Lovejoy were still talking 
 about the possibility of trouble between the United 
 States and England over the possession of Oregon 
 when Phil Curtis and Cora Carlton returned to the 
 mission along the winding river. 
 
 It was an important question, and it soon became the 
 burning issue in the far Northwest. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 A DINNER AND A BOAST 
 
 UT from the gate of Fort Walla Walla rode the 
 daughter of Pierre Pambrun, the Hudson Bay 
 factor. The boatmen from Vancouver had but a few- 
 minutes before swung in to the shore below the stock- 
 ade walls. She had heard them sing their boating 
 
 song: — 
 
 " Malbrouck has gone a-fighting, 
 
 Miroiiton, 7nirojitofi, viirontaine ! " 
 
 But she was already seated on her beautiful pony, 
 and she rode through the gate with a wave of her little 
 hand to Monique, the stern and stately Iroquois. 
 
 Off in the distance she had seen a horseman advanc- 
 ing on the trail from Waiilatpu. That horseman was 
 Phil Curtis, and she had been expecting that he would 
 bring her a letter from Elijah, who had gone down to 
 Waiilatpu but a few days before. The son of Pio-pio- 
 mox-mox had found favor in her eyes, and she was 
 anxious to hear from him. So, though the boatmen 
 
 98 
 
A DINNER AND A BOAST 99 
 
 sang merrily of the great Marlborough, whom they 
 called Malbrouck, she clattered away from the stockade 
 walls in a little cloud of dust. 
 
 She was a beautiful girl, this daughter of Pierre 
 Pambrun. Though her Indian blood showed in the 
 dark tint of her complexion, she seemed but a dark 
 brunette. Her black hair floated in silky curls, and her 
 eyes were blue like those of her father. 
 
 Phil Curtis regarded her with admiration as she 
 careered toward him on that beautiful pony of a rich 
 cream color with mottlings and markings of darker hue. 
 It was as clean-limbed and wiry as a racer. And 
 Maria Pambrun, as she galloped up the trail, reminded 
 Phil of that other half-breed Indian girl, famous on the 
 Pacific slope as the Canadian Lily, who rode in the 
 chase with her father like Diana, the huntress, with 
 flying hair and flaming cheeks. 
 
 With a clatter of the pony's hoofs the factor's 
 daughter drew rein, as she encountered Phil Curtis. 
 He lifted his cap in greeting. 
 
 "You're slow in coming!" she pouted. "I think, 
 maybe, you have a letter for me, and I have been 
 waitins: for it I !' 
 
 ''Yes," said Phil, and he produced it. 
 
 She broke the seal and read the letter. 
 
 "It's always the same old thing," she said, pucker- 
 
loo A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing her smooth forehead. " Even he has gone to 
 talking and writing about it ! " 
 
 Phil laughed. 
 
 " If you will enlighten me, I may know what you're 
 speaking about." 
 
 " Well, why should he fill his letter up with that ? I 
 get tired of this eternal Oregon question ! Isn't there 
 something else to write about ? " 
 
 They were riding on toward the fort, side by 
 side. 
 
 "It seems to be a subject of a good deal of interest," 
 said Phil. " So I suppose Elijah thought you would be 
 interested in it, too." 
 
 " Now, you're laughing at me," she declared, and 
 folding the letter she placed it in her pocket. ** You 
 may tell me the news at Waiilatpu ; this letter 
 doesn't." 
 
 " The Oregon question ! " said Phil, smiling at her. 
 ** There doesn't seem to be anything else worth talk- 
 ing about just now." 
 
 " Doesn't it weary you ? It does me. It's just the 
 same here at Walla Walla. And, as if all this talk 
 wasn't enough, the factors and agents have a meeting 
 here to-day to talk about it still more." 
 
 " I knew it," Phil admitted ; '• that's why I am here." 
 
 " You knew it .? " 
 
A DINNER AND A BOAST loi 
 
 '' Elijah told me. Doctor Whitman is here, too, 
 
 isn't he?" 
 
 "He came up to see a sick man yesterday — old 
 Maxani, who lives in the hut below the fort, and is 
 down with fever." 
 
 She looked at him intently. 
 
 '' Did he come here just to see what was to be done 
 at this meeting to-day, and not because he wanted 
 to doctor Maxani .'^ " 
 
 "No; he came to see Maxani. Doctor Whitman 
 isn't a man who would do anything Hke that. What- 
 ever he does, he does openly." 
 
 " But you came to see and to hear ? " Her blue 
 eyes flashed. 
 
 "Yes ; and to bring you that letter." 
 
 " I thank you for the letter. But hasn't there been 
 enough said about this Oregon question .? " 
 
 " I don't expect to say anything about it." 
 
 "Perhaps not, but you favor the Americans." 
 
 " How can I help that .? I am an American ! " 
 
 Phil made the boast proudly. 
 
 The blue eyes of the girl flashed again. 
 
 "But the Hudson Bay men were here before the 
 Americans! This is Hudson Bay territory. The 
 Americans have no right here. The Indians do not 
 want them; they were satisfied before the Americans 
 
I02 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 came. They trapped in the mountains and sold their 
 furs to the factors. Everything was going along 
 peaceably until the Americans came." 
 
 "I thought you weren't interested in the Oregon 
 question," Phil remarked dryly. 
 
 " I'm not ; I'm tired of it. But I can see that if 
 the Americans had not come, there would be no 
 trouble." 
 
 "Do you think there will be trouble.?" he asked 
 
 quietly. 
 
 ''It can't be helped, if the Americans keep on 
 coming. Do you think the Hudson Bay men want 
 to lose all this fur country.? The Company holds its 
 charter from England. What would that charter be 
 worth if the United States controlled the country.? 
 It wouldn't be worth anything, Phil Curtis, and you 
 know it. And if the missionaries can have their way, 
 there will be no more trapping." 
 
 " We won't quarrel," he said, smiling at her. '' It 
 seems that this matter tends to make the best of 
 friends enemies. We're friends ; let us stay friends." 
 
 *'But my father is the factor here. His business 
 is threatened. If you Americans have your way, 
 Fort Walla Walla will have to close its doors. I 
 shouldn't like that, you know; it's been my home 
 always." 
 
A DINNER AND A BOAST 103 
 
 Maria Pambrun was becoming excited. 
 
 Phil deftly turned the subject: — 
 
 '' Will Doctor McLoughlin be here at this meeting 
 of the factors and agents ? He is a man that I love, 
 and I should Uke to see him." 
 
 Pierre Pambrun's daughter thought quite as highly 
 of McLoughlin, and this praise cooled her rising anger. 
 
 " No, he will not be here. I should like to see 
 him myself ; there is no one I should like to see 
 better." 
 
 " Except Elijah," said Phil. 
 
 Whereupon her dark cheeks flushed. 
 
 Together they rode up to the stockade gate and 
 entered the enclosure. 
 
 Whitman was there, in the midst of a group of 
 men, most of whom had come up the river in the 
 boats. 
 
 Pierre Pambrun, red-faced, light-haired, round and 
 jolly, was doing his best to make the gathering 
 pleasant for these guests. In the cook rooms, aided 
 by servants, Madame Pambrun was superintending 
 matters. 
 
 " Ay, that's good ! " said Pambrun, elevating his little 
 red nose and sniffing toward the cook rooms. "We 
 shall have a dinner to-day fit for a king — or a Hudson 
 Bay factor ! " 
 
I04 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Doctor Whitman and Phil Curtis sat down together 
 to that dinner. At the head of the table Pierre Pam- 
 brun did the honors as host. He could carve a venison 
 roast like a French chef, and his conversation was of 
 itself a feast. 
 
 Before the dinner ended a horseman clattered up 
 to the door. A minute later a Hudson Bay man 
 who had gone out to speak to the horseman rushed 
 into the dining room, his face flushed with excite- 
 ment and exultation. 
 
 ** Hurrah for British Oregon!" he cried. "An 
 express messenger has just arrived from Fort Col- 
 ville with great news. One hundred and fifty Eng- 
 lishmen and Canadians are on their way down the 
 Columbia, and they are coming to settle in Oregon 
 as a British colony. Hurrah for Oregon ! America 
 is too late — we have got the country ! " 
 
 A roar of applause broke out. 
 
 Marcus Whitman said nothing. He was too shrewd 
 to show how the announcement affected him. But 
 no sooner was the dinner at an end than he spoke 
 to Phil. 
 
 " Get your pony," he commanded ; " we ride at 
 once for Waiilatpu. America is not too late, even 
 though they think so. America is never too late, 
 when she sets her hand to anything ! " 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 WHITMAN^S RIDE TO SAVE OREGON 
 
 THERE was tearful excitement at Waiilatpu. 
 Marcus Whitman had determined to try to 
 save Oregon to the United States by a journey 
 across the continent to Washington. 
 
 Winter was at hand, and what a winter trip over 
 the great Rockies meant Phil Curtis knew only too 
 well by reason of his experience as a trapper. Yet 
 he did not try to dissuade Whitman. He had the 
 utmost faith in the man, and was himself deeply 
 concerned for the fate of the beautiful Oregon coun- 
 try. The announcement at Walla Walla that a colony 
 of Englishmen and Canadians had entered Oregon 
 by way of the Columbia had stirred his blood like a 
 blast from a war bugle. 
 
 Nor did Mrs. Whitman try to dissuade her hus- 
 band, though the thought of the long separation 
 and of the hardships and perils of that terrible win- 
 ter journey filled her eyes with tears and choked her 
 
 105 
 
io6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 utterance, even while vshe tried to exhibit the courage 
 of which heroines as well as heroes are made. 
 
 The tears and the lamentations came from the new 
 pioneers who had come over the mountains with White 
 and Lovejoy, from brother missionaries, and from the 
 Indian children of the mission school. These begged 
 Whitman to stay, to reconsider his determination. 
 
 " Let Oregon go ! " said some of the immigrants. 
 " America has shown no interest in it. Congress 
 thinks more of some little cod-fishing banks on the 
 Eastern coast than of this whole beautiful country. 
 Only the English seem to appreciate it. Let it go to 
 the English ; the British government isn't such a bad 
 government but that we can Hve under its rule. It 
 will be a foohsh attempt, and it will be made at the risk 
 of your life ; and your life, Doctor Whitman, is too 
 valuable to be risked in any such way. Think of your 
 wife; she is trying to be brave, but any one can see 
 that she is crying her heart out. She is afraid that 
 she will never see you again. And we are afraid. 
 Think of the mission school and your work here ! " 
 
 Lovejoy, however, approved of Whitman's decision. 
 
 **I will go with you," he said. "We will make the 
 journey together. Oregon must be saved to our great 
 nation. No matter if the Eastern people and Congress 
 are willing to throw this beautiful land away as Esau 
 
WHITMAN'S RIDE TO SAVE OREGON 107 
 
 threw away his birthright ; it is only because they do 
 not understand what a country it is. They can be 
 roused in time to act. Washington can be reached 
 before Congress adjourns." 
 
 '' If I do not go," said Whitman, " the EngHsh will 
 pour settlers in here from Canada. The movement 
 has already begun. Whichever nation settles the 
 country and organizes a government will hold Oregon. 
 I know that I can so stir the Eastern people that a 
 big immigration will set in here next summer. I will 
 bring in a big emigrant train myself. I must 
 go!" 
 
 The feeling of patriotism which stirred Paul Revere 
 when he rode through the night from Boston town to 
 Concord, and that thrilled Sheridan when he galloped 
 wildly to Winchester to rally a disorganized army, was 
 leaping like a sacred fire in the heart of Marcus Whit- 
 man. With Whitman it was a feeling of patriotism 
 and religion combined. In every age, when so moved, 
 men have marched to death as they would go to a 
 banquet. 
 
 Out from the little mission of Waiilatpu rode Marcus 
 Whitman and Amos Lovejoy. For some distance they 
 were accompanied by a tearful group. Then they rode 
 on, alone, save for the Indians who were to go with 
 them a portion of the way. 
 
io8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil Curtis stood with Mrs. Whitman, Cora Carlton, 
 and others, in the trail that led to the mountains from 
 Waiilatpu, and his eyes followed the brave men as they 
 started on that trip across the continent. 
 
 Long after they had vanished beyond the reach of 
 vision Phil saw them, with his mind's eye, riding on ; 
 and as he knew the route over the terrible mountains 
 so well, he was able to follow them from point to point 
 in their perilous and wearisome journey. 
 
 The Indian guide rode ahead. Whitman and Love- 
 joy, following, talked of the conditions in Washington, 
 and of the contents of a letter from the American 
 Board of Missions which Lovejoy himself had carried 
 overland to Waiilatpu, and which stated that the mis- 
 sion was too expensive to be continued. That letter 
 had been like a knife stab to the heart of the faithful 
 missionary. But he had said of it, as he had said of 
 the lack of interest in Oregon on the part of the East- 
 ern people and Congress, " It is because they do not 
 know ! " 
 
 The two men hastened so rapidly that in eleven days 
 they were at Fort Hall. Here Captain Grant, the 
 Hudson Bay factor, tried to discourage them, as, six 
 years before, he had tried to induce Whitman to aban- 
 don the famous wagon he was taking to the Oregon 
 country. His purpose was the same now as then. 
 
WHITMAN'S RIDE TO SAVE OREGON 109 
 
 He knew that the Hudson Bay Fur Company did not 
 want Americans to enter the Oregon country. 
 
 " Doctor Whitman," he said, as he made this last 
 effort, " I must inform you that the snow is already 
 twenty feet deep in the Rocky Mountains, and besides 
 the dangers from the Blackfeet, the Sioux and the 
 Pawnees are engaged in a war, and it will be as much 
 as your life is worth if you try to go." 
 
 '' I must go on ! " said Whitman. " If the snow 
 were a hundred feet deep in the mountain passes, and 
 all the tribes of the border were set to keep me from 
 going, I would go on ! " 
 
 He went on. 
 
 From Fort Hall to Uintah, Whitman and Lovejoy 
 met with terrible weather. At Fort Uncompahgra 
 they took a new guide and turned southward to 
 escape the deep snows. 
 
 " The route is not passable," they were told. " You 
 cannot cross Grand River." 
 
 '* It must be passed, even if it is impassable, when 
 Oregon is to be saved ! " said Whitman. 
 
 The guide drew back at the crossing of the Grand. 
 Before them stretched the dark river. For two hun- 
 dred feet from each shore solid ice extended, and 
 between these masses flowed a lane of water two 
 hundred feet wide in which ice chunks tossed. 
 
no A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *'We cannot cross!" said the guide. 
 
 "We must cross!" said Wliitman. 
 
 Dismounting from his mule he cut a long willow 
 pole. Then he mounted to the saddle with the pole 
 on his shoulder, and rode to the stream and out upon 
 the ice as far as it would bear him and his mule. 
 When the ice began to crack and crumble beneath 
 the hoofs of the mule, Whitman ordered Lovejoy and 
 the Indian guide, who were behind him, to push 
 on the end of the pole that stuck out over his shoul- 
 der toward them. 
 
 " Push ! " he cried, as the mule held back and 
 refused to enter the ice-cold water. *' Push ! " he 
 shouted. 
 
 They pushed with all their might. The mule 
 slipped on the ice. The next moment it dropped 
 into the wild water, and went under out of sight, 
 taking Whitman with it. But when it came up, with 
 Whitman still in the saddle, it began to swim for the 
 other shore. With the pole Whitman pushed aside 
 the ice chunks that floated against it and hindered 
 its progress. When the ice on the opposite side was 
 reached, he leaped out, broke a path with the pole 
 and with his boots, and assisted the mule to make a 
 landing. Lovejoy and the guide followed, and the 
 " impassable " Grand River had been crossed. 
 
WHITMAN'S RIDE TO SAVE OREGON iii 
 
 By the time Lovejoy and the guide had landed, 
 Whitman had a roaring fire on the bank by which 
 to warm themseh-es and to dry their clothing. 
 
 The route chosen now lay in the direction of Taos, 
 in what is at present New Mexico. It was hoped that 
 by veering toward the south the worst storms would 
 be escaped. But on a high slope in the heart of the 
 mountains they encountered a blizzard so severe that 
 they had to seek shelter in a dark defile to save their 
 lives and the lives of their animals. 
 
 After remaining there ten days they tried to go on 
 again, when they were caught in another storm so 
 pitiless and bUnding that the guide lost his way. 
 When he admitted that he was lost, the mules were 
 permitted to pick a path ; and they led the travellers 
 back to the old camp in the defile. 
 
 Here the guide declared he would go no farther. 
 To go on was death, he said, and he was not yet 
 ready to die. 
 
 "There is but one thing to do," said Whitman to 
 Lovejoy. '*We must get another guide. To do that 
 I will go back to Fort Uncompahgra." 
 
 To Fort Uncompahgra Whitman returned with the 
 obdurate guide, encountering terrible storms, while 
 Lovejoy remained in camp in the defile trying to 
 recuperate the wasted strength of the mules by feed- 
 
112 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing them boughs and the inner bark scraped from 
 willows, the only food he could procure for them. 
 
 In ten days Whitman returned with a new guide; 
 and as the storm which had raged almost continu- 
 ously had abated, they pressed on again. When they 
 ran out of provisions they killed and ate the dog 
 that had accompanied them thus far. Next they 
 killed one of the mules for food. That winter of 
 1 842- 1 843 was noted in the mountains for its severity. 
 But ever Whitman pressed on. He was a Courier of 
 Empire, and he knew it. He had a message for the 
 people of the East and for Congress, a message of 
 such supreme importance that its delivery could not 
 be delayed. The fate of Oregon was hanging in the 
 balance. He must go on ! 
 
 Neither at Taos nor at Santa Fe, which they 
 reached next, could any news be had from Congress 
 or from the states. At these places they remained 
 only long enough to recruit their supplies. Then 
 they set out for old Fort Bent, on the head waters 
 of the Arkansas River, which they reached after 
 incredible hardships. 
 
 Four days before reaching the fort they encoun- 
 tered George Bent, a brother of General Bent him- 
 self. 
 
 "What about the Oregon question.''" was almost 
 
WHITMAN'S RIDE TO SAVE OREGON 113 
 
 the first thing Whitman asked him. " Is it still 
 pending, and can I reach Washington before Con- 
 gress adjourns ? " 
 
 To his joy he learned that the Oregon matter was 
 still unsettled, and that a party of trappers was ready 
 to leave Bent's Fort on its way down the Santa Fe 
 trail to Independence and St. Louis. 
 
 When Whitman arrived at Bent's the trappers had 
 gone; but a runner left the fort at once to overtake 
 and stop them. 
 
 Lovejoy remained at Bent's Fort. Whitman hurried 
 on down the Arkansas alone, overtaking the trapper 
 band, which had been halted by the runner and had 
 gone into camp to await his coming. 
 
 Lovejoy followed as far as St. Louis, with another 
 caravan; and there began to agitate the emigration 
 movement to Oregon in which he and Whitman were 
 so much interested. 
 
 Marcus Whitman hastened on across the continent 
 to Washington, a Courier of Empire as great as any 
 seen on the Map of Time. 
 
 The pioneer presented a singularly unique appear- 
 ance when he arrived in Washington, after that mem- 
 orable and historic journey, to beg of American 
 statesmen not to throw away the magnificent domain 
 of Oregon. Doctor Barrows, in his " Oregon ... the 
 
114 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Struggle for Possession," describes his appearance 
 when he returned to St. Louis : — 
 
 " He wore coarse fur garments with buckskin 
 breeches. He had a buffalo overcoat, with a hood for 
 emergencies, with fur leggings and boot moccasins. 
 His entire dress when on the street did not show one 
 inch of woven fabric. 
 
 *' He was a man not to be forgotten. He was of 
 medium height, more compact than spare, with a stout 
 shoulder, and large head not much above it, covered 
 with stiff iron-gray hair ; while his face carried all the 
 mustache and whiskers that four months had been 
 able to put on. He carried himself awkwardly, though 
 perhaps courteously enough, for trappers, Indians, 
 mules, and grizzlies had been his principal company 
 for six years." 
 
 Such was the strange figure, such the man, who came 
 to Washington, to stand before the President and the 
 leading statesmen, and to entreat them, that the rich 
 country of Oregon might be saved to the United States. 
 
 Before that fur-clad figure turned away from Wash- 
 ington, so great a change was effected in the sentiment 
 of the East, that the President had sent this message to 
 the American minister in England : — 
 
 "The United States will consent to give nothing 
 below the latitude of forty-nine degrees ! " 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 
 
 MARCUS WHITMAN returned to Oregon with 
 a thousand American settlers, who had with 
 them more than a hundred wagons drawn by oxen and 
 fifteen hundred loose horses and cattle. He had filled 
 the East with new ideas of Oregon, and this was the 
 first wave of the great emigration that was soon to set in. 
 There had been much trouble with the Indians dur- 
 ing his absence. Careless Cayuses, fishing in the river 
 by the mill, had set the mill on fire, and it had been 
 burned to the ground. The conduct of some of the 
 Indians so frightened Mrs. Whitman that she left 
 Waiilatpu and took refuge in the Methodist mission 
 on the Columbia, whither she was accompanied by Phil 
 
 Curtis. 
 
 Spalding, whose mission was situated at Lapwai, 
 among the Nez Perces, a hundred miles northeast of 
 Waiilatpu, had also experienced trouble with the 
 Indians. It was at Lapwai that Joseph attended school, 
 and Five Crows, Joseph's half-brother, drove his herds 
 
 115 
 
ii6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 over there each winter that he also might go to school 
 to Spalding. 
 
 On the plains at Lapwai a great Indian council had 
 been held, attended by the head men and principal 
 chiefs of all the Oregon tribes. Phil Curtis, Tom 
 McKay, and a number of other white people had gone 
 to the council, where it had seemed for a time that war 
 would be declared by the Indians against the whites. 
 
 The talks held there were still being discussed by 
 the Indians when it became known that Whitman was 
 returning with many hundred white men. 
 
 Tilskit's band of Cayuses was in the mountains and 
 had seen the monster caravan. Phil was at Lapwai, 
 and the news was brought to him by Timuitti who had 
 ridden hard and long that he might be the first to arrive 
 with the information. He was so much excited he 
 could hardly tell his story. 
 
 "Timuitti," said Phil, soberly, ''there has been much 
 foolish talk. You are my brother, and as a brother I 
 tell you that those Bostons are good people. They will 
 help the Indians all they can, instead of harming them, 
 and will be to them the best friends they ever had. 
 Remember this, as my brother." 
 
 Then Phil mounted his beautiful spotted pony and 
 galloped away across the bunch grass to meet Whitman 
 and the wagon train. 
 
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 117 
 
 As Whitman drew near to Waiilatpu the Cayuses 
 clustered round him, protesting that they had not 
 intended to burn his mill— that it was an accident. 
 '' It is all right," he said, in his kindly way, smiling 
 on the members of the protesting delegation and shak- 
 ing each by the hand. "We will build another mill. 
 We will start up the school at once, and the meetings 
 will begin again. These people want to be your 
 friends ; we want all Indians and white men to be 
 friends together here in Oregon." 
 
 Mrs. Whitman returned with joy to her husband at 
 Waiilatpu, and the abandoned work was taken up. Phil 
 became an instructor in the school, though he did not 
 drop his own studies. Cora Carlton became an assist- 
 ant teacher to Mrs. Whitman. 
 
 The new settlers were delighted with the beautiful 
 country. Some stopped in the valley of the Willamette, 
 but the greater number went on to the Columbia and 
 began the settlements that were so soon to grow into 
 towns and cities. For a time all went well ; but Dela- 
 ware Tom, Baptiste Dorion, and Waskema did not 
 cease in their efforts to create dissatisfaction among the 
 Indians of Oregon. Waskema mixed strange decoc- 
 tions and muttered weird incantations and terrifying 
 
 prophecies. 
 
 -I see the Indians falling like the leaves," she said; 
 
ii8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " I see them melting away like the mountain snows 
 when the Chinook blows warm from the sea. Oh, 
 my people, my people; you have let the white man 
 come, and now you must go ! " 
 
 Dorion rode among the Nez Perces at Lapwai. He 
 looked at their houses, built in imitation of those of 
 white men, and at their growing crops. His thin lips 
 curled in a sneer. 
 
 " You are fools ! " he said. " Do you not know that 
 this Httle army which Doctor Whitman has brought 
 in here is but the advance of a greater army that is 
 coming ? When it comes it will slay you and take all 
 that you have, — your houses, your crops, your ponies. 
 These missions and these mission schools are but the 
 traps which the white men set to snare silly Indians." 
 
 Soon the words of Dorion were burning on every Nez 
 Perce lip. 
 
 Delaware Tom came down to Waiilatpu from his 
 cabin in the Blue Mountains. He saw the Cayuses 
 helping Whitman to rebuild his mill, and beheld the 
 Indian children in the school. 
 
 "You are already slaves," he said; ** but Whitman 
 has thrown dust in your eyes and you do not yet see it. 
 He has coaxed you to the work which white men want 
 done. He is making squaws of you. And he will 
 make squaw slaves of all your children." 
 
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 119 
 
 Tiloukaikt began to join in now and then with these 
 
 malcontents. 
 
 ** I do not like Doct' Whit'n any more," he declared. 
 " I joined his church, I know, but I do not like him any 
 more; for he tells me that I cannot have four wives. 
 He says I must give up three of them. I do not like 
 such talk, and I do not like Doct' Whit'n any more." 
 
 Phil Curtis heard these things as he went among the 
 Indians. He talked with Timuitti and Joseph about 
 them, and with Tilskit and Neekomy. He learned also 
 that another half-breed, Joe Lewis, whom Whitman had 
 aided and befriended, was doing much bad work among 
 
 the Indians. 
 
 " We are your friends," said Tilskit to Phil ; " but the 
 heart of the Indian is becoming very black." 
 
 Tom McKay and Phil's father came in from the 
 mountains where they had been trapping, bringing 
 startling stories of the discontent that was spreading 
 everywhere among the Oregon Indians. 
 
 Whitman went with these men, and with Phil Curtis, 
 to Tilskit and Pio-pio-mox-mox, both of whom were 
 known to be kindly disposed toward the whites, and 
 "induced them to head a call for another council. 
 
 From the mountains, from the Columbia, from the 
 sea, came the Indian chiefs and leading men, in all the 
 toggery of hoUday dress, paint, and feathers, in answer 
 
I20 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 to that call. More than a score of head chiefs of the 
 Indians of Oregon responded. 
 
 Waskema, Dorion, and Delaware Tom came also, to 
 stir up further dissatisfaction and anger. They min- 
 gled with the Indians gathered for the council and 
 talked incessantly. Deceitful Joe Lewis kept away 
 and professed friendship for Whitman. 
 
 " The words of the white men are a medicine which 
 will put you to sleep ; it will close your eyes and ears 
 so that you cannot see and cannot hear the ruin that 
 is coming to the Indians of Oregon," said Baptiste 
 Dorion. " Listen not to the words of the white men." 
 
 " Dorion lies ! " asserted Phil. 
 
 "His heart is black!" added Phil's father. 
 
 " He is a snake ! " declared Tom McKay. 
 
 So they said hkewise of Delaware Tom and 
 Waskema. 
 
 Phil talked with Tilskit, with Timuitti and Elijah, 
 with Joseph and Five Crows. Phil's father used his 
 influence with Pio-pio-mox-mox, with Tiloukaikt and 
 Tauitau. Tom McKay went everywhere among the 
 Indians and into their lodges. 
 
 The Indians continued to gather at Waiilatpu, until 
 their ponies covered the hillsides and their lodges filled 
 the valley. From the savage standpoint it was a brill- 
 iant array. They made a holiday festival of the occa- 
 
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 121 
 
 sion, indulged in races on foot and on horseback, and 
 in Indian games. So splendid was that barbaric 
 gathering at Waiilatpu that it has been likened to the 
 Field of the Cloth of Gold, where, in 1520, Henry VIH 
 of England and Francis I of France tried to outdazzle 
 each other by the splendor of their dress, their courts 
 and armies, and the brilliancy of their combats and 
 tournaments. 
 
 To witness those games, races, parades, and shooting 
 matches, white people came from far and near. In the 
 races, the Indian games, and the shooting matches, 
 with rifles and with bows and arrows, Phil Curtis dis- 
 tinguished himself. With perhaps the exception of 
 Tom McKay, there was not a better rifleman on 
 the border, and in a foot-race he could outrun any 
 of the Indian boys. He was perfectly at home, too, 
 in the Indian games, for he had played them from 
 childhood. Mrs. Whitman and Cora Carlton, looking 
 on in the midst of the assembled white people, smiled 
 upon him and fluttered their handkerchiefs in encour- 
 agement. 
 
 In only one contest was Phil Curtis beaten. That 
 was in a shooting match with bows and arrows, when 
 Matpah, a young and ambitious Cayuse, who was pitted 
 against him, carried off the honors. It was a victory 
 given purposely by Phil to Matpah, in the hope that it 
 
122 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 would enable him to gain the good-will of this young 
 Indian and use it as an influence in favor of the white 
 men's cause. Matpah had recently been showing an 
 unfriendly spirit, and had been heard to speak scorn- 
 fully of the Waiilatpu mission school. 
 
 In the great council, held in the open and attended 
 by all the Indians, Marcus Whitman recounted the 
 story of the four Cayuse chiefs who had gone to St. 
 Louis in search of some one who could tell them about 
 the White Man's Book, and of how he had answered 
 that call and was now at Waiilatpu. He protested 
 that his heart was filled with nothing but love and 
 kindness for them, and assured them of the peaceable 
 intentions of all the white men who had come into 
 Oregon. 
 
 Many other speakers made like protestations. Tom 
 McKay and Phil's father addressed the Nez Perces 
 and Cayuses in their own languages. 
 
 As for Phil Curtis, he ventured upon the greatest 
 speech he had ever attempted, in which he told of 
 his adoption into the Cayuse band of Tilskit, and why 
 he had been so favored by that well-known chief. He 
 was now a Cayuse himself, he said — the white brother 
 of Timuitti, whom all knew, and the white son of Til- 
 skit and Neekomy. He would not lie to his brothers 
 of the Cayuse tribe, nor to his friends, the Nez Perces. 
 
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 123 
 
 But Baptiste Dorion and Delaware Tom stood up 
 boldly before the white men and denounced Whitman 
 and the American settlers, while old Waskema mut- 
 tered discontent in the lodges with the Indian women. 
 
 The education which Delaware Tom had received 
 at Dartmouth seemed but to add to his craftiness and 
 give keenness and edge to his stinging words. He 
 waxed almost eloquent as he pictured the wrongs which 
 had been perpetrated against various Indian tribes in 
 the East, and particularly against his own tribe, the 
 Delawares ; and with stirring and burning words he 
 warned the Cayuses and Nez Perces against the white 
 men. 
 
 Baptiste Dorion spoke with such vehemence that 
 his partisans with difficulty restrained themselves from 
 giving vent to their feelings in wild Indian yells. He 
 was garbed as a Canadian voyageur. He was not a 
 bad-looking half-breed ; but when he voiced his impas- 
 sioned thoughts, his black eyes glittered and his sharp 
 face seemed to grow sharper and thinner. He tossed 
 his long hair Hke a black mane, and his bosom heaved 
 convulsively as he stopped from time to time to note 
 the effect of his words. 
 
 ''The Bostons have already defeated the Hudson 
 Bay Fur Company and will soon drive them out of the 
 country. The Hudson Bay men treated you well ; you 
 
124 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 lived as your fathers lived before you, and the factors 
 bought your furs and gave you guns and blankets and 
 the things you need. The Hudson Bay men did not 
 drive the game out of the mountains ; they wanted the 
 game and the fur animals to remain, so that you might 
 continue to be trappers and hunters, as your fathers 
 were before you. The Bostons are killing your game 
 and they are trapping your beavers. They already 
 have the country ; for the English must now go, since 
 Whitman brought in his army of Bostons. The next to 
 go, after your friends the English leave, will be you — " 
 he thrust out his quivering hands and pointed his lean 
 brown fingers at the Indians — "you, Cayuses ; you, 
 Nez Perces ! The English are going, and you will go ! 
 They will sail in their big canoes back to their old 
 homes beyond the sea ; but you — you, Cayuses and 
 Nez Perces — where will you go but into the ground.? 
 Utter destruction and the grave will be your portion." 
 
 But for the calmer words of Pio-pio-mox-mox, Tilskit, 
 and some other chiefs who thought well of Marcus Whit- 
 man, the great Indian council would have been swept 
 off its feet by the burning denunciations of Baptiste 
 Dorion and Delaware Tom. 
 
 "We will not fight now," said the assembled chiefs at 
 last, clapping their hands. " We are willing to believe 
 that the Bostons are our friends. But because Dorion 
 
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM 125 
 
 and Delaware Tom say they are not, we will send a 
 messenger to the White-headed Eagle at Vancouver 
 and inquire into this thing." 
 
 " The danger is over for a time," said Tom McKay to 
 Phil, as the council closed ; *' but it's over for only a 
 time, Fm afraid." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 MATPAH GETS A DUCKING 
 
 THOUGH Phil Curtis had permitted Matpah to 
 defeat him in the shooting match with bows and 
 arrows, he failed to gain the good-will of that lusty 
 young Cayuse, in whose heart dark designs and strong 
 ambitions had begun to stir. Day after day, long after 
 the adjournment of the Indian council, Matpah hung 
 about the Waiilatpu mission. He had heretofore 
 scorned the school which Whitman was conducting for 
 the instruction of the young Cayuses ; but now, though 
 he would not enter any of the classes for the purpose of 
 study, he was much of the time in the schoolroom, and 
 when he could do so he attended the recitations con- 
 ducted by Cora Carlton, who feared him because of the 
 strange glances he occasionally bent on her. 
 
 At the first opportunity Phil spoke to Timuitti of the 
 matter that was now uppermost in his thoughts. 
 
 " Why is Matpah here all the time, when he thinks 
 himself too old and too wise to be a pupil in the 
 school .'' " he asked, 
 
 126 
 
MATPAH GETS A DUCKING 127 
 
 Timuitti regarded his questioner with a queer smile. 
 
 "You not know ?" 
 
 "I'm not good at guessing, so I don't care to 
 
 guess." 
 
 " Matpah say he going to make that girl his wife." 
 
 Phil's face flushed. 
 
 " He has been saying that ? " 
 
 " Many time I hear him say that. That why he 
 come here all time. He say he going to be big chief 
 by and by, and she his wife." 
 
 Phil could not discuss the matter with Timuitti, for it 
 
 would have been impossible to convey to the Indian 
 
 youth his viewpoint without at the same time saying 
 
 things which would have given offence. It seemed 
 
 likely that to the mind of Timuitti, Matpah was not 
 
 undesirable as a husband for Cora Carlton, or any other 
 
 girl, white or red. Matpah was already influential in 
 
 his tribe, and would no doubt become a leading chief 
 
 in time, for he was both capable and intelHgent, in 
 
 the Indian way. The Canadian voyageurs, many of 
 
 the trappers, and even some of the Hudson Bay factors 
 
 and agents, including the great McLoughlin himself, 
 
 were married to Indian women. Why, then, an Indian 
 
 might be expected to ask, should it be thought wrong 
 
 for Matpah to aspire to the hand of a white girl .? 
 
 " So that is the reason he is here all the time ! " was 
 
12; 
 
 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil's thought. '' He can't understand how unusual his 
 idea is, and trouble may come of it." 
 
 The continued presence of the ambitious young 
 Cayuse irritated him. Nevertheless, he held his peace, 
 until one day when an act of Matpah threw him into 
 a great and ungovernable rage. 
 
 That day Phil had gone up the river some distance 
 to inspect the ripening crops which Whitman had cul- 
 tivated in the valley. As he strolled slowly by the 
 river side on his return, he was not thinking of Matpah. 
 He was watching the red clouds in the west where the 
 sun was sinking, and glancing now and then at the 
 Indian lodges by the river. In front of the mission a 
 number of Indians had gathered, some on foot and 
 others on horseback. Whitman was standing by the 
 door talking with them. 
 
 As Phil followed the path, which dipped toward the 
 river through the high grass, the Indians by the mission 
 door, and even the lodges near at hand, were for a time 
 shut from his sight. Yet the high clouds, shining like 
 mingled gold and copper, held his attention. Suddenly 
 he heard a cry of fright in a girhsh voice. 
 " Cora ! " was his instant thought. 
 He broke into a quick run, and as he came out upon 
 the higher ground he saw Cora Carlton just before him 
 struggling in the grasp of Matpah. 
 
MATPAH GETS A DUCKING 129 
 
 The young Cayuse had been very pertinacious that 
 day in his attentions to the girl. In the schoolroom he 
 had sat staring at her until her cheeks reddened with 
 irritation and nervousness, and outside of the school- 
 room he had hung about as if desirous of speaking 
 to her. 
 
 She had avoided him, she thought, for he was not 
 to be seen when she set out along the river path, her 
 intention being to meet Phil and walk home with him, as 
 his return was expected about that time. 
 
 As she walked on she had almost ceased to think of 
 Matpah, so was very much surprised and startled when 
 he arose from the grass at the side of the path and 
 stepped toward her, his glance fixed on her in the 
 peculiar manner she had before observed. She halted 
 in indecision and turned half about, whereupon the 
 dark eyes showed a flash of anger. 
 
 "I wait here to see you ! " he said, in a tone of com- 
 mand. " I want to spik to you this long time." 
 
 He came close up to her and put his hand on her 
 shoulder, looking down into her face. 
 
 " I will spik to you ; and I will tell you that my wife 
 you will be some day ! " 
 
 His grasp tightened painfully on her shoulder. 
 
 " Let me go, please ! " she begged. 
 
 " No, I will spik with you ! " he declared fiercely. 
 
I30 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " I see you come and I wait here, and now I will spik 
 with you ! " 
 
 She tried to draw back. His look and his words, 
 more than the pain, frightened her; and when his 
 grip on her shoulder tightened still more, she cried out 
 in alarm. 
 
 It was that cry which brought Phil Curtis along the 
 path and over the rise in wild haste. 
 
 Matpah released the girl and stepped back when he 
 beheld Phil, and she started instantly in a run toward 
 the mission. Phil was shaking with rage as he ap- 
 proached the stalwart young Indian. Matpah was 
 older, taller, and apparently much stronger than he. 
 Naturally not a bad-looking Indian, his dark face was 
 disfigured now by an angry scowl. 
 
 *'Why do you come?" he demanded, speaking in 
 Cayuse. 
 
 " It seems that I was needed," said Phil, still trem- 
 bling. " What were you doing .? Answer me that ! 
 You are a coward to frighten a girl in that way." 
 
 Matpah answered with an unexpected blow, driven 
 straight at Phil's face. Phil dodged it and leaped at 
 him like a tiger. The next instant he and the Cayuse 
 were rolHng together on the ground, while Whitman 
 and the Indians in front of the mission, and some of 
 the Indians who had been lolling round the near-by 
 lodges, hurried toward the scene. 
 
MATPAH GETS A DUCKING 131 
 
 It was not often that Phil Curtis lost his head, but 
 he lost it now. Overpowered by indignation and 
 wrath, he caught Matpah by the throat. The young 
 Cayuse, possessed of great strength, rose on his knees, 
 and then gained his feet. Together in the tall grass 
 the combatants swayed to and fro. The Indian drove 
 Phil backward, and for a little while it seemed that 
 he would push him into the river, which was just at 
 hand; but as Phil retreated, he shifted his position 
 suddenly, stooped down, and with a quick movement 
 and a lightning-hke swing he lifted Matpah from his 
 feet and hurled him into the stream. 
 
 As soon as it was over Phil stood dazed, panting 
 and trembhng. Matpah struck the water with a loud 
 splash and sank from sight instantly. But he came 
 up in a little while, and though plainly bewildered 
 began to swim toward the shore. Whitman was on 
 the bank and helped him out of the water as he 
 made his landing. 
 
 Phil stood in the grass by the path. His heart 
 jumped and his nerves were all a-quiver. The Indians 
 who had arrived were talking loudly, but he did not 
 notice what they said. 
 
 Matpah stopped as he came through the grass 
 from the margin of the stream. His clothing was 
 dripping, and his long hair was a wet wisp. He 
 
132 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 looked at Phil long and steadily, his black eyes gleam- 
 ing with ferocity and hate. 
 
 " Boston," he said, speaking in English, that 
 Whitman might not fail to understand, *' I am 
 Matpah, and a Walla Walla Cayuse, and we will meet 
 again ! " 
 
 The gathering Indians closed about him, and Phil 
 heard him explaining to them what had occurred, 
 interpreting it in a way to suit himself. Phil did not 
 care to be drawn into a discussion which would be un- 
 profitable. He knew that in his present temper he 
 might say things that were better left unsaid, so he 
 turned and walked slowly along the path. As he thus 
 walked on. Whitman overtook him. 
 
 " I was too hasty," Phil admitted, as he told of 
 what had occurred ; " but when I heard Cora scream 
 and ran to her assistance, he struck at me." 
 
 "It's unfortunate — the whole thing is very unfortu- 
 nate, but I don't think I can blame you," said Whitman, 
 somewhat to Phil's surprise, for Marcus Whitman was 
 always set against fighting of any kind, or for any 
 purpose. " I had just a word with her, as she ran down 
 the path. He had been hiding in the grass, and he 
 frightened her terribly." 
 
 " He is a scoundrel ! " said Phil, giving open expres- 
 sion to his indignation. 
 
MATPAH GETS A DUCKING 133 
 
 Whitman glanced back at the Indians, who were 
 still gathered about Matpah. 
 
 " If he were a white man I should call him an 
 ► unmitigated scoundrel. He probably doesn't under- 
 stand that he has done anything wrong ; Ukely he feels 
 that he is the one who has been wronged. I've seen 
 for some time that he has been attracted to Miss 
 Carlton. Being a savage, he has acted like a savage. 
 I don't doubt that he wants to make her his wife." 
 
 " Yes ; Timuitti told me that he did." 
 
 Whitman again glanced back at the Indians, and saw 
 that they were moving toward one of the lodges, with 
 Matpah still in their midst. 
 
 *' It will be policy for me to have a talk with them," 
 he said thoughtfully. " I don't want IMatpah to win 
 them over to his side, and he will do it if he can." 
 
 He turned back along the path, while Phil went on 
 to the mission, where he found Cora Carlton and Mrs. 
 Whitman, both in a state of great indignation. They 
 were also filled with a good deal of uneasiness. 
 
 '' I can't blame you, Phil," said Narcissa. ''Yet I am 
 afraid trouble will come of it. I've been watching that 
 young Cayuse for some time, and I'm sure he is a 
 vindictive Indian." 
 
 " I'm sorry that it happened," Phil confessed ; '' I 
 ought to have held in my temper. I know I lost con- 
 
134 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 trol of myself completely. Matpah will join with those 
 other plotters now and do all he can against the white 
 people. But it couldn't be helped ; at any rate, it can't 
 be helped now." 
 
 When Whitman returned to the mission, he reported 
 that he thought no trouble would arise out of the in- 
 cident, as Matpah appeared to be in a more cheerful 
 frame of mind. 
 
 *' He is only crafty," said Phil. " He is not a fellow 
 to tell you what he thinks or what he intends to do. 
 Timuitti and Elijah will be the ones to find that out 
 for me." 
 
 "The thing that pleases me is that he won't come 
 back now to the school," was Cora Carlton's declara- 
 tion. " I've seen how he has been watching me, and 
 I've grown more and more afraid of him every day." 
 
 Phil talked with Timuitti and Elijah, and asked them 
 to report to him whatever of a threatening character 
 Matpah might say among the Indians. They prom- 
 ised ; but they heard nothing, or at least reported 
 nothing. 
 
 Matpah kept away from the school and away from 
 Waiilatpu; and if he had any plans of revenge, they 
 seemed to have been dropped. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE WOLF MEETING 
 
 PHIL CURTIS had gone out to his wolf trap, 
 which he had set on the border of the tall rye 
 grass, a mile or more beyond the mission. 
 
 The wolves had come down from the Blue Mountains 
 of Oregon and had wrought great devastation in the 
 flocks. Scarcely a family of immigrants but had suf- 
 fered losses. A young pony, Cora Carlton's favorite, 
 had been pulled down by a band of the savage brutes 
 not more than a week before, and Phil himself had lost 
 a colt which had been slain within a dozen rods of the 
 mission house. 
 
 Many explanations of the exceeding boldness of the 
 mountain wolves were given. One was that they found 
 it much easier to pull down and slay a calf or a colt 
 than to run down a deer or some other fleet-footed 
 creature of the mountains. The result of their raids 
 was a bitter and deadly war waged against them 
 throughout the valley of the Walla Walla and the 
 whole of the Oregon country. 
 
 135 
 
136 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil's wolf trap was a dead fall — a clumsy structure 
 of poles and small Cottonwood logs supported by a 
 figure 4 trigger. He had set it directly in the game 
 trail that came from the hills to the river, for up and 
 down that trail he had more than once seen wolves 
 passing. 
 
 When he arrived in the vicinity of the trap, he saw 
 that it was unsprung, as he had left it ; yet out beyond 
 it, in the grass, he caught sight of something that was 
 sufficient to quicken his pulse. 
 
 In that spot a cow had cleverly hidden her young 
 calf ; for the habit which wild animals have of conceal- 
 ing their young extends in many instances to domestic 
 animals as well ; and cattle that are reared on the plains 
 or in the mountains in a semi-wild state, exhibit this 
 peculiarity in a marked degree. This cow had placed 
 her calf in the tall grass close by the trail, where it had 
 been found by a wolf. 
 
 When Phil caught sight of them, the hungry brute 
 had been driven back for the moment, and the cow 
 stood with lowered horns and blazing eyes, her whole 
 being surcharged with ferocity. 
 
 Though the wolf had retreated before the onslaught, 
 it had not given up its purpose. Alternately crouching 
 and leaping to and fro, it watched for an opportunity to 
 spring upon the calf, while the mother, equally alert, 
 
HE DASHED COURAGEOUSLY UPON THE BRUTE." 
 
THE WOLF MEETING 137 
 
 opposed every threatening movement with lowered 
 head. 
 
 Phil did not await the result of the contest. He gave 
 a shout and ran forward as rapidly as he could. Un- 
 fortunately, he had no rifle with him ; but as he ran he 
 stooped to pick up a club, which chanced to be lying 
 by the path, and swinging this and again shouting he 
 rushed on. 
 
 The wolf continued to leap to and fro in front of the 
 lowered horns of the cow. Then, as it suddenly at- 
 tempted to get by her, with a low bellow of rage she 
 dashed at it, and but for its exceeding agility would 
 have pinned it to the ground. This apparently was the 
 opening the wolf had long sought, for it finally suc- 
 ceeded in passing the cow as she attempted to turn. 
 
 Again Phil shouted, filled with a lively sense of the 
 peril of the calf, and having now arrived at the spot he 
 dashed courageously upon the brute with the intention 
 of braining it. 
 
 The wolf turned away from the calf and sprang 
 fiercely at the throat of the boy. He stumbled back- 
 ward, still striking with the club. The animal dropped 
 to the ground, uninjured, and there it crouched, its 
 keen, white teeth glittering and its fierce eyes shining 
 like coals. It was angered, but apparently not in the 
 least frightened. Meanwhile the cow had hurried to 
 
138 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 the calf, obviously with the intention of getting it away 
 as quickly as possible. 
 
 Phil put back his hand to draw his knife, but before 
 he could do so the wolf sprang again, and he was 
 compelled to use the club to beat it off. Attacked yet 
 again, the boy retreated, striking fiercely, and striving at 
 the same time to get out his hunting-knife, which he 
 carried in a leather sheath belted to his waist. 
 
 While he was thus forced back through the high 
 grass, still thrusting at the wolf, there came to his ears 
 the agreeable sound of rapidly pounding hoofs. He 
 heard a call, in a familiar voice, but without pausing to 
 look about he struck again at the wolf. 
 
 Then he heard the hoof falls close by him, heard 
 words shouted at him, and a moment later an arrow 
 whizzed by his ear. 
 
 There was not a better bowman among the Indian 
 boys of Oregon than Elijah, the son of Pio-pio-mox-mox, 
 and his stiff elkhorn bow had driven the arrow through 
 the heart of the fierce wolf from the Blue Mountains. 
 He uttered a wild Indian yell of triumph and slipped 
 from the back of his spotted pony. 
 
 The wolf tumbled to the ground and, though its 
 vitality was great, was dead in a few minutes. The 
 cow was still trying to coax the calf away from what 
 she evidently considered a dangerous locality. 
 
THE WOLF MEETING 139 
 
 " That was good," said Phil, dropping his club and 
 standing breathless before the Indian boy. *' If you 
 hadn't come up just as you did, I don't know but it 
 would have been all up with me in another minute. I 
 never saw a wolf fight as that one did, though it is not 
 the first time I have had trouble with wolves. If I 
 hadn't jumped lively, he would have had me by the 
 throat." 
 
 The Indian boy beamed with delight. It pleased him 
 to be spoken to in that way by one whom he regarded 
 so highly as Phil Curtis. Phil was his ideal white boy 
 and his long-time friend. 
 
 " It was good," he admitted. " 'Way off there I saw 
 you fighting. I was on my way to the mission. Do 
 you take the wolfskin, or do we ride on.-^" 
 
 " We will take the skin," said Phil ; and with the 
 assistance of Elijah he proceeded to strip it from the 
 body of the slain animal. 
 
 The boy drew out his arrow very carefully, for to an 
 Indian of that place and time an arrow was a valuable 
 article. 
 
 " It is strange," said Elijah, looking at Phil as they 
 were engaged in the work, "but I come to you to tell 
 you of the wolf meeting. Pio-pio-mox-mox, my father, 
 he come, too. He be here pretty soon. You heard 
 about that wolf meeting ? " 
 
I40 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil Curtis was obliged to confess that he had not 
 heard of the wolf meeting, whatever it might be; where- 
 upon it pleased Elijah to be able to explain that the 
 settlers of Oregon had fixed a date and called a great 
 meeting, in which the question of the destruction of the 
 wolves that were ravaging the flocks was to be con- 
 sidered. 
 
 They talked of the coming event as they proceeded 
 toward the mission house, Phil walking and Elijah 
 riding his pony. It was to be a great meeting, Elijah 
 said, a wonderful meeting ; and it was evident that he 
 imagined that it would partake in large measure of the 
 quality of those spectacular Indian councils with which 
 he was familiar. 
 
 "Another big news I bring you," he said, as, look- 
 ing back, he saw that his father was approaching. " It 
 surprise you to know this big news." 
 
 ''What is it.?" Phil asked, for Elijah had a provoking 
 way of withholding information. 
 
 ''Matpah is now chief of his Cayuse band." 
 
 Phil turned on him in surprise. 
 
 " What > " 
 
 " It is as I say to you. Matpah is now chief. The 
 old chief die not long ago, and Matpah become chief in 
 his place ; and that mean another thing. You can guess 
 what it mean, I think." 
 
THE WOLF MEETIiNG 141 
 
 " I do not want to guess anything," said Phil, know- 
 ing that Elijah referred to the very marked interest 
 which Matpah had shown in Cora Carlton. 
 
 His memory harked back to that day by the river, 
 when, leaping upon Matpah almost as the wolf had 
 sought to leap on him, he had caught the Indian youth 
 by the throat, and had thrown him into the water. He 
 had felt at the time that trouble would come of the inci- 
 dent, and now, with this news that Matpah had become 
 chief of his particular Cayuse band, the feehng returned. 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox galloped up at that instant and 
 greeted Phil Curtis gravely. The Yellow Serpent was 
 a fine-looking Indian, worthy to be the father of so 
 splendid a youth as Elijah. Both were dressed that day 
 in their best. Feathers and fringed clothing showed 
 in profusion; but there was no paint on their faces. 
 
 "We buy cattle," said Elijah, with pride. 
 
 Phil knew how the fancy of the Oregon Indians had 
 been drawn to the horses, cattle, and sheep which the 
 first and later immigrant trains had brought into the 
 country. The Cayuses did not care so much for 
 the horses of the immigrants, for they had horses of 
 their own ; but cattle were something with which they 
 had not been famiHar, and they bought them whenever 
 they could. 
 
 Marcus Whitman greeted the Yellow Serpent and his 
 
142 • A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 son in his usual genial manner. Mrs. Whitman also 
 tried to make the Indian chief feel that he was one 
 of their best friends. All took dinner together at 
 the mission ; and after some advice from Marcus 
 Whitman, who had no cattle to sell, but was well able 
 to counsel in such a matter, the chief and his son rode 
 away. 
 
 Doctor Whitman had talked much with Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox about the great wolf meeting, which was to be held 
 at Champoeg. He knew why the meeting had been called 
 better than the Indian chief did. The American settlers 
 felt that they were without means of protection and de- 
 fence. They could not rely upon the men of the Hudson 
 Bay Fur Company at Fort Vancouver or Walla Walla, 
 nor upon the French Canadians and mountain trappers. 
 They did not feel that it was wise to call a meeting 
 openly, with the announced intention of forming some 
 kind of government ; but upon the question of the ex- 
 termination of the wolves all could unite, and when 
 they had come together there would be opportunity for 
 private talk over many things that were now uppermost 
 in the minds of the Americans who had settled in Ore- 
 gon. Hence the wolf meeting had been called, to meet 
 at Champoeg in the spring. 
 
 Marcus Whitman attended that meeting, and among 
 those with him were Phil Curtis and Ben Allen, an ex- 
 
THE WOLF MEETING i43 
 
 ceptionally lively youth from the state of Indiana, who 
 had come into Oregon not long before. 
 
 The French Canadians and the half-breed trappers 
 were chattering at Champoeg when Marcus Whitman 
 and his companions arrived. It was on the first Mon- 
 day of March, in the year 1843, and it is said that every 
 American who could muster a boat had landed at old 
 Champoeg by ten o'clock that morning. There, in the 
 house of Joseph Gervais, they held their meeting. They 
 talked of the wolves and of wolf bounties, and laid 
 elaborate plans for the destruction of this enemy of the 
 settlers and the farmers. All could agree upon that. 
 
 Then the Americans, French voyageurs, and traders 
 went away. When May came they again assembled at old 
 Champoeg. At the previous meeting the Americans 
 had talked privately with each other. Wherever the 
 Anglo-Saxon gathers, one of the first things that he 
 desires is an orderly government, and when the Ameri- 
 cans came together again with the trappers and the 
 Hudson Bay men, they had agreed upon a report which, 
 in its substance, was the foundation of the government 
 
 that was to be. 
 
 They presented that report to the May meeting. 
 Then wild discussion arose. All of the Hudson Bay 
 men were against it. Some of the trappers were against 
 it, while others were for it. John Curtis, Phil's father, 
 
144 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 led the American trappers who favored the adoption 
 of the report. Tom McKay, who was called a Hudson 
 Bay trapper, yet who really could be said to pay 
 allegiance to no man, seemed to halt between two 
 opinions. 
 
 The discussion ended, and the time for voting came. 
 The excitement was intense. The voyageurs seemed to 
 be marshalled to a man against the resolution. 
 
 " No ! " they thundered, when a vote was taken. 
 The chairman was about to declare the report lost. 
 In the midst of the excitement the Americans asked for 
 a division. Jo Meek, the trapper, was the first to step 
 forward and demand this. 
 
 '* Who's for a divide .? " he called out. " All in favor 
 of the report and organization, follow me." 
 
 He stepped out. John Curtis followed. Tom McKay 
 hesitated, then he stepped to the side of Curtis. Whit- 
 man and his companions and the American trappers 
 joined them in a body. 
 
 On the other side the Hudson Bay men ranged 
 themselves. 
 
 Then a great yell seemed to lift the very roof, for the 
 Americans had a small majority. 
 
 "Three cheers for Oregon and the United States ! " 
 some one cried. 
 
 It was like that shot fired by the embattled farmers at 
 
THE WOLF MEETING 145 
 
 Concord, which was heard round the world. The wolf 
 meeting had been transformed into an organization 
 of government, and infant Oregon had made its 
 appearance. 
 
 As Whitman's party rowed away from Champoeg, 
 descending the river in their frail boat, Marcus Whit- 
 man's spirits were so Hght and gay that he was almost 
 hilarious. 
 
 " I can see the beginning of the end that I have 
 worked for," he said, measuring the future with the 
 eye of prophecy. 
 
 It was truly the beginning of the end. A legislature 
 was chosen not long afterward, and a governor elected, 
 and the selected capital was the new town of Oregon 
 City. Many changes were to occur, many things were 
 to happen, before Oregon became really a part of the 
 United States. America was to be brought to the verge 
 of war with England. Political passions were to rage. 
 The campaign battle-cry of ''Fifty-Four Forty, or 
 Fight ! " was to be upon almost every American lip. In 
 the end Oregon was to become a territory of the Union. 
 But before that end came in its fulness there were to be 
 many stirring events, many thriUing episodes, and many 
 perilous vicissitudes. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 
 
 OLD Pio-pio-mox-mox and Elijah came again to the 
 mission one day, dressed as if out for a holiday 
 jaunt. 
 
 " We go again to buy cattle," said Elijah, with his 
 proud smile. '* We go a long way this time." 
 
 Elijah had grown into a tall, slender youth, of quick 
 intelHgence and animated character. He was one of 
 the finest of the Indian youths of Oregon, and Phil 
 Curtis had grown to like him very much. 
 
 The Yellow Serpent sat smiling on his pony beside 
 his son, of whom he was intensely proud. Elijah was 
 educated in the white man's ways, and to the Yellow 
 Serpent he was wise almost beyond the limits of 
 wisdom. 
 
 " Yes, we go a long way," said Elijah, making his 
 announcement to the Whitmans and to Phil Curtis 
 before the mission door. " We go 'way off, to Calif orny, 
 to buy many cattle." 
 
 As before, Whitman talked with them ; and they took 
 
 146 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 147 
 
 dinner with him again, and were served with the best 
 that the mission afforded. Then they departed. 
 
 Phil Curtis watched EHjah as he rode away with his 
 father that afternoon, thinking how splendid his young 
 friend looked in his Indian finery as he sat on the back 
 of his spotted pony ; and long afterward he was given 
 cause to recall how well Elijah appeared, how handsome 
 and brave, that afternoon. 
 
 It was some time after this departure of Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox and Elijah that Cora Carlton came to Phil, showing 
 a troubled face. 
 
 "Two of my best pupils left me to-day," she an- 
 nounced. "They are the daughters of that chief who 
 made a speech to the Sunday-school a month or so 
 
 ago." 
 
 He looked at her gravely. 
 
 " Why did they leave ? " 
 
 '' Measles has broken out in that Cayuse band." 
 
 " If that is so, they will be going right into it. They 
 ought to have stayed here." 
 
 "That's what I said to them; but the Indians think 
 the disease was contracted from the white people, and 
 that the thing to do is to get away from here as soon as 
 possible. I tried to reason with the girls, but I couldn't 
 do anything with them. They were too much scared." 
 
 Measles had broken out in a number of the Indian 
 
148 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 villages. Whitman was much distressed. Though he 
 could not credit all that was told him, it was reported 
 that the Cayuses and Nez Perces were dying, like flies, 
 of diseases imported by the whites. It was claimed, 
 too, that before the coming of the immigrants from across 
 the mountains, the Indians of Oregon had enjoyed a 
 high degree of health. Whitman knew better than this, 
 for he was a physician and had given much of his time 
 to professional work among these very Indians. 
 
 That first immigrant train had been followed by 
 others. Long and toilsome marches over mountains 
 and deserts, exposure to inclement weather, the strain 
 of alarms and of wearisome watches against savage 
 foes, together with a cruel lack of good water and 
 sufficient food, had bred and fostered disease in these 
 companies of white people. There was much sickness 
 on the way, and even after the promised land of Oregon 
 was gained. Some of these diseases, like measles, had 
 spread among the Indians. 
 
 The panic in the school grew. Soon Timuitti came 
 to Phil, greatly frightened. 
 
 " Good-by, Boston brother," he cried. 
 
 He stood off from Phil and would not extend his 
 hand. 
 
 " Not going to leave us .? " said Phil. 
 
 "Yes, me go. Others go, too; many others. Bad 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 149 
 
 spirits working among Boston people, making Indian 
 sick. Indian git sick and die. Me no stay here and 
 
 git sick." 
 
 '' There is no sickness here, Timuitti," Phil declared. 
 " You will be safer here than anywhere else." 
 
 But Timuitti was not to be quieted so easily. 
 
 -Bad spirits working," he insisted. "Me no stay. 
 Timuitti no want to die now." 
 
 And he departed. 
 
 The scare almost emptied the school. 
 
 Reports coming in showed' that the disease, treated 
 in the Indian fashion, was proving in many cases fatal. 
 Then Whitman went out into the villages, administering 
 to the sick. Sometimes they took his medicines, some- 
 times they did not. In either case, too often, as soon as 
 he was gone, the Indian doctors and conjurers were 
 called in. Then the treatment he had prescribed was 
 disregarded, resulting frequently in the death of the 
 
 patient. 
 
 "Doct' Whit'n killing the Indians," wailed old 
 
 Waskema. 
 
 "Ay, I warned you," reminded Delaware Tom. 
 -This is their plan to destroy you. They want your 
 
 lands." 
 
 "It is as I said," whispered Dorion. "I told you 
 they wanted this Indian country. They are bewitching 
 
I50 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 you. They have let many bad spirits loose among you. 
 Soon all the Indians will be dead, and then the Bostons 
 will have the country." 
 
 In the midst of this confusion and alarm, when it 
 seemed that matters could not be much worse, Marcus 
 Whitman came to Phil, bringing with him Ben Allen. 
 
 " I have been talking with Ben," he said, " and he has 
 agreed to go up among the Indians and do what he can 
 to help them, if you will go with him. Neither of you 
 are doctors, I know ; but both of you have had measles, 
 so will be immune, and I can give you some medicines 
 and instructions. Whatever you do, you cannot possi- 
 bly do much worse than those Indian medicine men. 
 They are simply killing all those who fall sick." 
 
 Ben Allen, who had come with a recent immigrant 
 party, and therefore was to a considerable extent a 
 stranger in the land, hailed with delight this opportunity 
 to ride into the hills of Oregon ; and he knew that in 
 such a journey he could have no better companion than 
 Phil Curtis, who for so many years had been a trapper 
 boy in the great mountains. 
 
 So, taking all the medicines which Whitman could 
 spare, the two rode forth one day to the nearest Indian 
 village. 
 
 It was the village of Stikine, one of the Cayuse chiefs. 
 At the entrance they were met by old Waskema. She 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 151 
 
 supported herself on her crooked, knotted staff, and 
 peered at them from under the tangle of her matted hair. 
 With one withered hand she waved them away. 
 
 ** The curse of Waskema rest on you ! " she croaked 
 in the Indian tongue, which Phil so well understood. 
 " You have said that you are a Cayuse, that your 
 heart is red, though your face is white. Your heart 
 is black — black ! You bottle up the spirits down 
 there at Waiilatpu. I saw you. When I was there, 
 I saw you. You put them in bottles, and Doct' Whit'n 
 takes them and goes to where the Indians are sick. 
 He makes the Indians drink of those bottles and 
 then the Indians die. It is witchcraft. It is murder. 
 Doct' Whit'n is killing the Indians. You are Doct' 
 Whit'n's friends. Go ! go ! go ! " 
 
 She waved her skinny arm. 
 
 Phil urged his pony nearer and sought to reason 
 with her. He tried to tell her that what she had 
 seen him put into bottles was medicine — the white 
 man's medicine, which, if rightly administered, would 
 cure diseases — would cure the Indians. She would 
 not listen to him. 
 
 ''Your heart is black!" she shrieked. ''Your words 
 are lies ! Your breath spreads disease ! You call 
 yourself the white Cayuse, but your heart is 
 black ! 
 
152 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Back in the village the boys heard a low wailing. 
 
 " Another has died even since you came," said 
 Waskema, dramatically. "You breathed toward the 
 lodge where the sick man lay, and now he is dead. 
 It is his squaw that wails. Go ! go ! go ! " 
 
 " Go ! go ! " was yelled at the boys from the village. 
 
 It seemed imprudent to ride farther. Nevertheless, 
 Phil ventured to do so. He knew the Indian nature. 
 Had he not spent years in the villages and lodges 
 of the Indians ? So, though Waskema waved him 
 back, and voices from the lodges cried to him to 
 go, he rode farther on, and then quietly dismounted. 
 
 Ben Allen was not a little alarmed, and his freckled, 
 almost comical, face showed it. 
 
 " I don't think I like this at all," he said, glancing 
 about rather wild-eyed. " I came up here to doctor 
 Indians, though I'm no doctor; but I tell you I didn't 
 come up here to be killed ! " 
 
 Phil smiled at him. 
 
 " I'm hoping we'll find that their bark is a good 
 deal worse than their bite. Of course old Waskema 
 hates every white person. She would drive every 
 one of us out of the country or kill us. I don't 
 doubt that. But Stikine, the chief, has been a friend 
 to my father in the past ; so I think we will risk 
 staying here." 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 153 
 
 The boys tied their ponies. When they looked 
 about, they saw here and there a dark Indian face 
 peering at them from some lodge, but only old 
 Waskema stood out in the open. She was shaking 
 with rage, and was mumbling her impotent hate, 
 while still clasping the knotted stick and peering 
 at them with her burning eyes. 
 
 '' If there ever was a witch that old woman is one," 
 said Ben, with a little shiver. 
 
 Ben Allen was by nature jovial and jolly, but he 
 did not see anything of a jovial or jolly character 
 in his present situation. He saw only a foreboding 
 of peril, and was already wishing himself well out 
 of the scrape he felt he was in. 
 
 There was a movement at the farther end of the 
 little cluster of Cayuse lodges, and old Stikine came 
 into view. Phil Curtis was glad to see the old chief, 
 and approached him without reserve. 
 
 "We were sent up here by Doctor Whitman to 
 aid your people, good Stikine," he said; and then 
 went on to explain more fully the nature of his 
 errand, at the same time displaying some of the 
 medicines which Whitman had sent. 
 
 Old Stikine drew back somewhat startled when he 
 beheld the bottles. He remembered Waskema's claim 
 that Doct' Whit'n placed bad spirits in bottles and 
 
154 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 sent them forth to the Cayuses. He looked at the 
 medicines and was almost afraid. 
 
 "Come with me," he said at last, when Phil repeated 
 the message given by Whitman. '* Umtippi, the medi- 
 cine man, is in the lodge over there. One of the 
 younger chiefs is sick. He has the great disease, which 
 it is said the white people brought into Oregon." 
 
 It was not exactly an invitation, but it was enough. 
 Phil passed old Stikine and entered the lodge. The 
 medicine man turned about and stared at him gravely. 
 Umtippi was not arrayed in his sorcerer's garb at 
 the time. Only a little while before he had put out 
 of the lodge the relatives of this young chief, and 
 he had been bending over the sick man when Phil 
 entered. Apparently he was disturbed and dis- 
 pleased. 
 
 Ben Allen, who was just outside the lodge, heard 
 Phil explaining to Umtippi why he was there. Then 
 Waskema slipped in by him, and he heard her talk- 
 ing in a wild and excited way to the medicine man. 
 A moment later Phil came out. 
 
 " Stikine is not unwilling to help us, if only he 
 can feel that it is safe for him to do so, but he is 
 afraid of Umtippi and Waskema. This subchief has 
 not been sick a great while, I think, and the medicine 
 man has been called in to see what he can do for 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 155 
 
 him. He will give him a sweat, probably, and then 
 go through some kind of conjuring mummery." 
 
 Phil walked slowly away from the lodge, which now 
 held old Waskema and the medicine man, and into 
 which almost immediately Stikine entered. He began 
 to fear that he had made a mistake in coming into 
 the village at all, and that perhaps it would be the 
 part of wisdom to leave at once. He said as much 
 to Ben, as they walked on toward their ponies. 
 
 ''The Indians are very suspicious, as you see," he 
 remarked. " If you will look, without seeming to 
 glance about, you will notice that we are being watched 
 from every lodge. The Indians believe that Doctor 
 Whitman is a medicine man ; not a doctor, as we under- 
 stand it, but a conjurer, — one who deals in witchcraft, 
 sorcery, and incantations. They think that when an 
 Indian falls sick some medicine man, or some evil spirit, 
 or some person who hates him, has cast a spell over 
 him. To drive away that spell the medicine man is 
 called in. The Cayuses believe the white people have 
 been casting spells on them. The Indians did not have 
 the measles, and these other troubles, before the white 
 men came. So, looking at it from their standpoint, it 
 can be seen how easily they may be willing to think 
 these sicknesses are the results of spells which the 
 white men have worked against them." 
 
156 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 '' I think I can see that we had better get out of 
 here," said Ben Allen. " I Hke a little fun, and I like a 
 little adventure, but this is altogether too much fun and 
 adventure for me." 
 
 But Phil Curtis, having undertaken to do something 
 for these Indians at the urgent request of Doctor Whit- 
 man, was not ready to confess so quickly that he was 
 beaten. So he remained. 
 
 That evening he was given encouragement by the 
 arrival of his foster-father, Tilskit. Tilskit was as- 
 signed a lodge by Stikine, and he invited Phil Curtis, 
 whom he called his son, to share this lodge with him. 
 So both Phil and Ben Allen found shelter in the 
 unfriendly village ; for, of course, wherever Phil went 
 Ben went also. 
 
 That night it was given out that Umtippi, the medi- 
 cine man, was to make a grand effort to drive away the 
 spirit which troubled the young chief. Tilskit said 
 that he intended to be present with Stikine in the lodge 
 of the sick man at the time, and that if Phil desired to 
 accompany him it would be perfectly safe for him to do 
 so, under his protection. 
 
 The lodge was filled with the wailing friends of the 
 chief, when Tilskit, and his foster-son, and his son's 
 companion, Ben Allen, followed Stikine into the lodge, 
 which had been converted into a medicine lodge. 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 157 
 
 Umtippi was arrayed most fantastically. He had on 
 a gorgeous medicine robe of elkskin, which depended 
 from his shoulders and dragged on the ground as he 
 walked. His leggings and his deerskin shirt fairly 
 glittered with painted quills, beads, and shining stones. 
 He stood by the skin cot on which the sick man rested. 
 In his right hand he held his medicine bag of snake- 
 skin, filled with pebbles, which gave forth a rattUng 
 sound when he shook it. In his left hand he carried a 
 tambourine-like drum, on which he thumped at inter- 
 vals. Thus drumming, rattUng the snakeskin, and 
 chanting rhythmically, the medicine man executed jerky 
 evolutions, circHng and hopping to and fro about the 
 cot, shrieking out at times. 
 
 The wilder the gyrations of the medicine man became, 
 the higher rose the wailing of the assembled friends and 
 relatives. Umtippi was making this a great test of his 
 ability as a conjurer. To a certain degree he believed 
 in himself, and in the efficacy of his practice ; yet that 
 there was a deep basis of hypocrisy and humbuggery 
 was made apparent before the performance ended. 
 
 Understanding well the Cayuse language, Phil Curtis 
 listened attentively to the mumbhng of Umtippi. The 
 medicine man claimed that he had discovered the source 
 of the sickness which troubled the chief. A white man 
 had transformed himself into a weasel, and had insin- 
 
158 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 uated himself into the very vitals of the chief. If that 
 weasel could be driven out, the chief would recover. If 
 it could not be driven out, the chief would die. 
 
 That Umtippi, like Waskema, hated the white men 
 violently, and wished to create against them a feeUng 
 of enmity, was quite evident to Phil Curtis when he 
 understood what he was saying. 
 
 The gyrations and dramatic pantomime, the shaking 
 of the snakeskin, and the thumping of the tambourine 
 drum, grew constantly louder and wilder, and louder 
 and wilder rose the wails of the young chief's relatives 
 and friends. 
 
 Suddenly, at the very pinnacle of his performance, 
 the medicine man dropped to the ground, shrieking 
 and raving. The mourning relatives screamed in their 
 excitement. The medicine man thrust his long arms 
 under the skins that covered the cot. His lips foamed 
 and his eyes rolled. He appeared to be engaged in a 
 terrible struggle. Then, with a yell of triumph, he 
 drew from beneath the robes which covered the chief 
 the body of a weasel. Rising with this in his hands he 
 threw it to the ground. Then he leaped upon it, and 
 stamped it into the very earth, screaming out his hate, 
 rage, and triumph. 
 
 There can be no doubt that this performance, star- 
 tling and even terrible though it may seem, produced a 
 
UMTIPPI, THE MEDICINE MAN 159 
 
 strong effect upon the sick man, who believed implic- 
 itly in Umtippi ; and if there is such a thing as the 
 mind controlling disease, there can be little doubt that 
 this dramatic climax would have a favorable influence. 
 
 Ben Allen, who had been greatly astonished by what 
 he saw, though he did not understand a word of what 
 he heard, was staring into the sick man's eyes ; and he 
 saw the young chief rise from his cot and glare at the 
 weasel, which the medicine man was stamping into 
 the earth. He heard the sick man yell almost as 
 loudly and dramatically as Umtippi himself. Then 
 he saw him fall back in an exhausted and fainting 
 condition. 
 
 '' You see what we have to contend with," said Phil 
 to Ben when they were once more together in the lodge 
 which they were occupying with Tilskit. '' That weasel 
 which the medicine man dragged forth represented 
 some white man who is supposed by these Indians to 
 have bewitched the sick chief." 
 
 " But where did it come from ? " Ben asked, for the 
 thing had puzzled him. 
 
 " From under the robes on the cot, of course. Old 
 Umtippi slid it in there before he began his conjuring 
 performance ; but you can never make an Indian be- 
 lieve that he did anything of the kind." 
 
 " Do you think the chief will get well } " 
 
i6o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " That is to be seen. He may get well, and he may 
 not ; but whether he does or not will not depend upon 
 anything that Umtippi has done. If he dies, though, 
 I think there will be trouble for Umtippi. From what 
 Tilskit and Stikine say, he made a test case of this 
 young chiefs sickness. That shows, at any rate, that 
 he beUeved from the first that the chief would get well. 
 If the chief dies, it may go hard with him." 
 
 ** Why so ? How is that ? " 
 
 "The conjurer himself may be killed. It has been 
 done before among these Indians, and it may be done 
 again." 
 
 Ben Allen looked at Phil earnestly and uneasily. 
 
 " Say," he said, '' you're not fooling about that ? " 
 
 "Not in the least." 
 
 "Then all I can say is that I don't care to try to 
 doctor Indians. I am not a doctor, anyway ; but I was 
 willing to do what I could just to please Whitman, and 
 because I thought it would be fun to take a trip to the 
 Indian villages. What if we should fail now ? What 
 if we should give medicine to one of these Indians to 
 try to cure him, and then he dies ? " 
 
 Instead of answering promptly, Phil looked steadily 
 at the lodge door. 
 
 " I will talk to Tilskit and Stikine about that. Any- 
 way, I am afraid we shall have to take some risk." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 
 
 THE next morning Tilskit departed from the vil- 
 lage of Stikine. But before he went away he 
 had a long talk with Phil, in which he expressed his 
 belief that the boys had not much to fear, though he 
 was equally sure the Indians would not permit them 
 to come into competition with the medicine man as a 
 doctor. He also said he had talked with Stikine, and 
 that Stikine had promised to permit Phil and Ben to 
 remain in that lodge so long as they wished to stay in 
 the village. At the same time he advised them not to 
 remain, for he believed they could do no good, and 
 harm might come to them from it in the end. 
 
 "You have sick in your village," said Phil. "We 
 can go there." 
 
 Tilskit looked displeased. 
 
 "No!" he said, and he said it emphatically. "My 
 Cayuses would not like that. It is true we have some 
 that are sick, but our medicine men can make them 
 well. If they cannot, then they must die. If it is the 
 
 i6i 
 
i62 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 will of the Great Spirit, they will die, and no one can 
 hinder." 
 
 This conversation was held with Tilskit in the Cayuse 
 language ; and though Ben Allen sat by and Hstened, 
 he understood not a word; but when Tilskit was 
 gone, Phil acquainted him with what the chief had 
 said. 
 
 " In some things Tilskit is just like all the other 
 Cayuses," was Phil's statement. " He thinks he is 
 more civilized. He calls himself a Christian, and has 
 united with Whitman's church down at the mission ; 
 but you see he is just as superstitious as he ever was. 
 He still believes in the power of the medicine men ; or, 
 if he does not believe in their power, he is afraid of 
 them, and that amounts to nearly the same thing so far 
 as we are concerned." 
 
 "A nice sort of father you've got," said Ben Allen, 
 wrinkling his homely face in a smile. 
 
 Ben Allen was truly a homely lad. He always 
 spoke of himself as "the unhandsomest boy that ever 
 came out of Indianny." His mouth was wide, his nose 
 long, his eyes of a light color, and his hair carroty ; 
 but, in spite of his appearance, he was pure gold. He 
 had a big heart in his big body. He could laugh and 
 joke, and he could romp and play ; but he had serious 
 times, and he was always as true as steel. 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 163 
 
 "I think a good deal of my Indian father," said Phil, 
 in reply. " He has his faults, like all these Indians. 
 Still, I think he is the best Cayuse I ever knew, with 
 perhaps the exception of his son, Timuitti. I wish 
 Timuitti were here now, for I should like to talk with 
 him." 
 
 After further consideration of the question that was 
 now before them, the boys decided that they would 
 hold in abeyance their desire to do something for the 
 sick in Stikine's village. 
 
 " We will try to gain the good-will of these Indians 
 first," said Phil. ''Then later, when they see that we 
 mean well, perhaps they will let us do something. We 
 are not doctors; but surely we could do better, if we 
 followed Whitman's instructions, than that old medicine 
 man, Umtippi." 
 
 As the boys walked about the village, after the de- 
 parture of Tilskit, they noticed that wherever they 
 went they were closely observed. 
 
 When they returned to the lodge which had been set 
 apart for Tilskit, and which was now theirs to use, they 
 were unpleasantly surprised to discover that their guns, 
 which they had left there, had disappeared. Phil had 
 also left behind his hunting-knife attached to his belt, 
 and that was gone too. 
 
 Ben Allen made a wry face. 
 
i64 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " It is a good thing I had my knife in my pocket, or 
 I reckon they would have taken that." 
 
 He drew it out — a strong jack-knife with two 
 blades. 
 
 " Keep it out of sight," said Phil. " These Indians 
 intend to strip us. The disappearance of our guns has 
 a bad look to me." 
 
 They were still further disturbed when they found 
 that their ponies had been led away and turned loose 
 with the herd of Indian ponies, which was guarded by 
 some Cayuse warriors. 
 
 " May we take our ponies .? " Phil asked, approach- 
 ing the herd. 
 
 The herders waved them back. 
 
 " See Stikine," they said. 
 
 When Phil saw Stikine a little later, he obtained no 
 satisfaction. The chief hesitated, then prevaricated, 
 then lied outright. 
 
 *'They are not your ponies," he declared. 
 
 Phil interpreted this to Ben Allen. 
 
 "But they are our ponies!" Ben asserted rather 
 warmly. ** Don't I know our ponies? They were 
 right there in the midst of the others. What does he 
 mean by that .'* " 
 
 Phil did not answer until they were at some distance 
 from Stikine's lodge. 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 165 
 
 " The meaning is that we are not to be permitted to 
 leave." 
 
 Ben looked at Phil with something like dismay show- 
 ing in his homely face. 
 
 " Then we are prisoners ? " 
 
 " It begins to look like it." 
 
 To test the matter, he walked with Ben to the farther 
 end of the village. When they tried to pass out into 
 the hills, they found they were not to be permitted to do 
 so. Two stalwart Indians, who had been lounging not 
 far away, rose up with weapons in their hands and 
 motioned them back. 
 
 Phil returned toward the lane of lodges, and Ben 
 followed him. 
 
 "The only thing to do," he said, "is to pretend that 
 we are not anxious to get away." 
 
 " We ought to have gone away yesterday, when that 
 old hag told us to ! " 
 
 " But we didn't. We thought we were doing right 
 to stay. Whitman would have wanted us to stay. 
 Now we will have to remain, whether we wish to or 
 not, until — " 
 
 "Until what?" 
 
 "Until we can get our guns, recapture our ponies, 
 and escape by night." 
 
 " Not to-night ? " 
 
i66 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *' No, it may be quite a while before we can get 
 away. We shall have to use patience." 
 
 Phil Curtis was even less pleased with the situation 
 than he was willing to confess to Ben. Still, he hoped 
 that Tilskit would return soon, or that some other friend 
 would arrive. Because he was the adopted son of a 
 chief so well known as Tilskit, he did not really fear 
 that immediate harm would come to him or his com- 
 panion ; but with Waskema raging against the whites, 
 and all the other Indian enemies of the settlers mouth- 
 ing their anger, what the outcome would be Phil was 
 not prepared to say. 
 
 Stepping up to a small tree with swinging branches, 
 he asked Ben Allen to let him have the knife. Ben 
 took it from his pocket and passed it to him. Phil cut 
 off a stout branch that was free of knots, and sitting 
 down began to whittle at it. 
 
 " What are you doing .? " Ben asked. 
 
 " I think I shall make a bow and then some arrows. 
 They may come in handy, since our guns are gone. 
 I have been thinking that if we are not watched too 
 closely, we can slip out into the hills some dark night, 
 and on foot make our way back to the mission. But 
 that is not the chief reason why I am whittling at this 
 stick of wood. If we are quiet, and seem to be con- 
 tented, the Indians will not watch us so closely." 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 167 
 
 The situation seemed a most peculiar one to Ben 
 Allen. He had never contemplated anything just 
 like it. He felt that he was a prisoner in this Cayuse 
 village, yet he was at liberty to walk about and do 
 pretty much as he pleased, so long as he did not try 
 to leave. 
 
 Phil began to talk about bow-making and about ar- 
 rows : how the arrows were feathered, tipped, grooved, 
 and ornamented, saying that the bows and arrows of 
 each tribe differed materially in make and appearance ; 
 so that any one familiar with such things could, on 
 seeing an Indian bow or arrow, tell what tribe the 
 maker belonged to. 
 
 "You remember that bow of elkhorn with which 
 Elijah shot the wolf?" he said. "That was made by 
 the Crows. Elijah bought it of a Crow, and paid for 
 it with beaver skins." 
 
 Then he recalled to Ben Allen the peculiarities of 
 that wonderful elkhorn bow, which had been the pride 
 of Elijah's heart. It had been made of thin strips of 
 elkhorn, joined and glued together, highly poHshedand 
 ornamented. It was very stiff and hard to bend, but 
 in the hands of a strong and practised bowman Hke 
 Elijah it was a marvellous weapon, abb to hurl an 
 arrow a distance of four hundred yards. 
 
 He told Ben that the Sioux made a bow of horn 
 
i68 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 which is also very strong ; and that both the Sioux 
 and the Cheyennes strengthen their bows by strips of 
 sinew which they glue to the backs. 
 
 The one which he himself fashioned from that tree 
 bough was a clumsy and not very effective weapon ; 
 but, as he said, it was better than nothing. Later he 
 made some unfeathered arrows, whose points he hard- 
 ened by heating them in the fire which the boys were 
 permitted to build in their lodge. 
 
 Throughout the greater part of that day, and far 
 into the night, the booming of Umtippi's medicine 
 drum was heard, accompanied by his weird chanting. 
 There was much sickness in the village, and the old 
 sorcerer was, in consequence, a busy and an important 
 man. Wherever he went he seemed to be accom- 
 panied by Waskema, whom the Indians feared and 
 believed in as if she were a veritable medicine man 
 herself. They were sure that she could forecast the 
 future, and also that she could call down from the 
 skies terrible maladies on whoever opposed her. 
 
 Neither Umtippi nor Waskema paid the slightest 
 attention to the boys throughout the whole of that day, 
 nor for several days thereafter. They seemed to have 
 agreed to ignore them, as if they were of no conse- 
 quence, or beneath notice. 
 
 In spite of the sickness, and of the howUng and 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 169 
 
 drumming of the medicine man, the Indian children 
 romped and played their games. They rode their 
 ponies; they had their shooting matches with bows 
 and arrows ; they indulged in swimming races in the 
 river which ran hard by. Childish yells and shrill 
 laughter filled the air almost constantly. 
 
 " I rather think I should like to be an Indian boy 
 myself," said Ben Allen, as he watched these frolicsome 
 youngsters. '* I don't see that they are ever punished, 
 no matter what they do. It is certain they do not 
 have to go to school, except when some white man 
 like Whitman coaxes them into his mission. They 
 have very little work to do, if any." 
 
 " And from little savages they grow up to become 
 big savages." 
 
 Ben wreathed his homely face in a smile. 
 
 •'Well, I don't know as that is so bad, after all. 
 When I was a Httle chap I thought I should like to run 
 away to sea, get shipwrecked on some island, and play 
 Robinson Crusoe. Afterward, when I began to hear so 
 much about this Western country, I had an ambition to 
 be a trapper or a hunter, or perhaps even an Indian." 
 
 " Is that what brought you to Oregon ? " 
 
 Ben smiled again. 
 
 '' Well, not exactly, but that is part of it. I was on 
 a farm, you know." 
 
lyo A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " No, I didn't know anything about it. I don't 
 tliink you ever told me." 
 
 '* I was on a farm, working. My parents had died. 
 I think I told you that. I didn't want to become 
 simply an Indianny clodhopper. I heard about Whit- 
 man's party. He was wanting people, all he could get, 
 to go with him to Oregon. Says I to myself, 'Ben 
 Allen, here's your chance' And so I came. I wanted 
 adventure." 
 
 It was Phil's time to smile, and even to laugh. 
 " 1 think you are finding all the adventure you care 
 for." 
 
 "Well, yes; but you see it was not just this kind of 
 adventure that I expected to find. I wanted to trap, 
 and to hunt game, and to fish in the rivers. You don't 
 know what stories I heard of the wonderful amount of 
 fish there is in the Columbia." 
 "That is all true," said Phil. 
 
 With talks like this the boys beguiled the time, 
 which, in spite of all they could do, passed tediously 
 enough. They found they were not to be permitted to 
 leave the village. When they went to sleep at night, 
 a stalwart Indian lay stretched across the lodge en- 
 trance and another slept on the ground just outside. 
 They could hardly move without arousing one of these 
 guards. 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 171 
 
 They were not only not permitted to administer to 
 any of the sick Indians, but all their medicines were 
 destroyed, except some in the form of powders, which 
 Phil had kept in an inner pocket of his jacket. 
 
 The boys were much disturbed one day by the ap- 
 pearance in Stikine's village of Matpah, whose enmity 
 Phil had reason to fear. Matpah stared when he saw 
 them there, and afterward they noticed him talking 
 closely with Stikine and Umtippi ; but he departed 
 without any open demonstration against Phil, much to 
 the latter' s relief. 
 
 '' It seems a little strange that Tilskit does not come 
 back," said Phil one day. 
 
 "I have been rather hoping that Whitman himself 
 would come," answered Ben, "though I don't know 
 that he could do anything for us." 
 
 ''I have not expected Mr. Whitman. He probably 
 thinks that we are going from one village to another, 
 doing what we can. He hasn't the least idea of the 
 condition of things up here. He trusts the Indians, 
 and he doesn't understand them very well." 
 
 As the boys talked, sitting on a sUght elevation 
 that overlooked the valley-like margin of the stream, 
 old Umtippi, the medicine man, was "mixing medi- 
 cine" just below them. This statement is not to be 
 taken in the literal sense that he was concocting heal- 
 
172 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing drugs or brewing medicinal roots and herbs. He 
 had a great fire going there by the brink of the river, 
 and over this fire a pot was swung ; but there was no 
 medicine in the pot, only various things which he con- 
 sidered charms, "eye of newt and toe of frog," after 
 the style of the witches of Macbeth. 
 
 As the stuff in the pot boiled and bubbled, sending 
 up clouds of steam, the medicine man postured by the 
 river, swinging his medicine bag of snakeskin. He 
 was appealing to the spirits of the mountains, to the 
 spirits of the fire and of the water, in the belief that 
 by so doing he would acquire power to heal the sick of 
 the village. 
 
 Many warriors and squaws were watching the old 
 medicine man, and he knew it. He was like an actor 
 before the footlights, who is trying to thrill and influ- 
 ence his audience. It was very plain that the old 
 sorcerer believed himself to be a great man. 
 
 As Phil Curtis and Ben Allen sat thus looking at 
 Umtippi, a stone, loosened by Ben's foot, started down 
 the hillside, bounding and rebounding. With a thun- 
 dering crash it struck the boiling caldron, scattering 
 the fire in every direction, bowling the medicine man 
 himself over, and knocking him into the river. 
 
 Phil started up in dismay. 
 
 " Did you do that purposely ? " he asked. 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 173 
 
 Ben Allen seemed to be hiding a laugh. 
 
 *' Well, no, I didn't do it purposely. That is, I didn't 
 mean to have the stone go just where it did. I thought 
 I could roll it down there, and give him a Httle scare, 
 and he wouldn't know that I had anything to do with 
 it." 
 
 The astonished Indians were voicing their surprise 
 and anger in yells. A number of them rushed down 
 to the water, plunged in, and, seizing the struggling 
 Umtippi, dragged him out. 
 
 If the situation had not been so serious, Phil could 
 have laughed. The pompous medicine man of a few 
 moments before was now a draggled fright. The 
 stripes of paint with which he had ornamented his 
 face had run together in a strange mass of color. 
 His elaborate medicine robe of elkskin was soaked 
 and dripping. His feathered hair hung down his back 
 in a wet wisp, and each single dyed porcupine quill 
 that ornamented his deerskin shirt and leggings seemed 
 to be sparkling with raindrops. He was in a great 
 rage, too, and he sputtered and fumed with a fury that 
 would have put old Waskema to shame. 
 
 It did not take Ben Allen long to learn that his 
 Httle piece of pleasantry, as he had thought it, was 
 Hkely to have serious consequences. Both he and 
 Phil were seized by the angry Indians, and confined 
 
174 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 in their lodge, with a guard stationed at the entrance. 
 Then they heard a great powwowing in the medicine 
 lodge, and they knew that the subject of the insult 
 to the medicine man was under discussion. Ben 
 Allen was undeniably frightened. Phil Curtis was 
 uneasy. What might come of it all he could only 
 guess. 
 
 The serious results which Phil more than half an- 
 ticipated were not to fall at once, at any rate. Before 
 the meeting ended, a loud wailing was heard on the 
 border of the village. This grew louder and louder, 
 and was joined in by many feminine voices. 
 
 Stepping to the entrance, in spite of the presence 
 of the guard, Phil looked out and saw Pio-pio-mox-mox. 
 The old chief was surrounded by a retinue of wailing 
 Indians, and he sat on his pony with head bowed in 
 an attitude of deep grief. 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox rode slowly by, through the narrow 
 avenue between the lodges ; and though he glanced 
 at Phil, as the latter stood boldly in the lodge en- 
 trance, hoping to attract his attention, he seemed 
 scarcely to see him. A great weight settled on Phil's 
 heart. 
 
 " Elijah is dead," he said, turning back into the 
 lodge and speaking to Ben Allen. " I don't know 
 anything about it, or how it happened ; but I know 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 175 
 
 from the manner of Pio-pio-mox-mox that EHjah is 
 dead." 
 
 It was too true. EHjah, whom Phil had seen riding 
 away so gayly in his Indian finery, lay dead at Sutter's 
 Fort, in California; and the Yellow Serpent, heart- 
 sore and bewildered, was returning to his people. 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox stopped in the village of Stikine 
 to rest before going on to his own village, which was 
 some distance away. He came to the lodge where 
 Phil was now held as a prisoner with Ben Allen ; and 
 in a slow, sorrowful manner tried to acquaint Phil 
 with the whole story of the terrible tragedy. 
 
 "We went to Sutter's Fort," he said, speaking in 
 Cayuse. " We went there, as you know, to buy cattle. 
 At first the white men treated us well. We had not 
 enough peltries, so we went into the mountains to 
 hunt more. We hoped to buy many cattle. There 
 were other Indians with us ; for though we rode alone 
 from Waiilatpu, we joined other Cay uses who were 
 waiting for us, and who went on with us into Cali- 
 fornia. In the California mountains, while we were 
 hunting to get more peltries, we had a fight with a 
 band of Indian robbers, and we captured from them 
 twenty-two horses. Ah, those horses ! " 
 
 Old Pio-pio-mox-mox looked up at Phil with stream- 
 ing eyes. 
 
176 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *' It was those horses ! They were ours, by the 
 laws of war. We brought them to Sutter's Fort. 
 Some white men there claimed we had stolen the 
 horses from them. They said we must give them up. 
 
 " ' No/ said Elijah ; ' we will not give them up. 
 They are ours. We fought for them with the rob- 
 bers in the mountains, and they are ours. We will 
 fight for them now, but that we keep them.' 
 
 " Then the white men drew their guns. They fired 
 upon us; and Elijah — my son, Elijah — fell. He 
 was dead ! We were frightened, then, and we turned 
 and ran, lest we should all be slain. We leaped on 
 our horses, and rode far, far away from Sutter's 
 Fort. As we rode away, we heard the booming of 
 the cannon that sent the great shot tearing over our 
 heads. We left everything behind us, and we fled 
 scarcely fast enough, for the white men followed 
 hard in pursuit." 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox rocked to and fro and wept again. 
 
 ''That was six weeks ago. Now I am here. To- 
 morrow I go on to my own village. I have been 
 kind to the white men, I have been their friend; yet 
 this is what I have received in return ! Out there 
 is Elijah's horse — his beautiful spotted horse! Elijah 
 shall nevermore ride him ! " 
 
 The return of Pio-pio-mox-mox with this terrible 
 
PRISONERS IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE 177 
 
 story to the Indians of the Walla Walla was like 
 applying a lighted match to a bonfire ready to be 
 kindled. The story flew from lodge to lodge, and 
 from village to village, as if on the wings of the wind. 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox had been the especial friend of the 
 white men. He had been the champion and the ad- 
 herent of Marcus Whitman ever since that faithful 
 missionary had estabhshed himself at Waiilatpu. And 
 this was his reward! His son, Elijah, — his only son, 
 Elijah, —who had been baptized at the Methodist 
 mission on the Columbia, — Elijah, the kind-hearted. 
 Christian boy, had fallen before the rancorous shot 
 of a white man ! 
 
 Before the old chief left Stikine's village and passed 
 on his way to his own home, Phil Curtis knew that 
 the situation in which he and Ben Allen were now 
 placed was most serious. Ben had grossly insulted 
 Umtippi. A white man in far-away California had 
 killed Elijah. Marcus Whitman, the Indians firmly 
 believed, was working spells to do them harm, and 
 they believed also that these youths themselves were 
 in the village of Stikine with black intent in their 
 hearts. The outlook was not pleasant, and Phil 
 knew it. 
 
 Yet faithful old Pio-pio-mox-mox had said a good 
 word for Phil and his friend before leaving Stikine's 
 
1 78 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 village. He had impressed upon Stikine a remem- 
 brance of the fact that Phil Curtis was a Cayuse by 
 adoption ; that he was the white son of the chief, 
 Tilskit. But for this matters might have gone much 
 harder with the two boys than they did at that time. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 THE kind words said by Pio-pio-mox-mox in behalf 
 of Phil Curtis caused no perceptible change in 
 the attitude of the Indians toward the boys. Phil and 
 Ben were kept confined closely in the lodge, and were 
 watched constantly. 
 
 " If conditions become too unpleasant, we will make 
 a desperate effort to get away," said Phil. 
 
 "If conditions become too unpleasant.-'" cried Ben 
 Allen. " I don't think they could be much worse." 
 
 ** Yes, they could be a great deal worse. So far, we 
 are in no personal danger. We are only deprived of 
 our liberty." 
 
 A few days later, however, the situation took so 
 serious a turn that even Phil Curtis admitted that the 
 time had come for them to escape, if they could. 
 
 An Indian boy came into Stikine's village, bringing 
 startling news from the Waiilatpu mission. He claimed 
 that while lying in bed at the mission, pretending to be 
 asleep, he had heard the particulars of a plot to kill all 
 
 179 
 
i8o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 the Cayuse Indians. Mr. Spalding had come down from 
 the mission at Lapwai, and he and Doctor Whitman 
 had discussed the plan together. Whitman, the boy- 
 said, proposed to send out " medicine " to all the Cayuse 
 villages. This ''medicine" was to be poison, which 
 would wipe the Indians from the face of the earth. 
 
 The telUng of this story in Stikine's village created 
 the most intense excitement. It seemed to bear out 
 the claims of Waskema, that Phil Curtis and Ben Allen 
 were merely Whitman's emissaries, whose purpose was 
 not to heal, but to kill. 
 
 When Phil heard that story from the lips of Stikine, 
 the alarm which he felt was more for Marcus Whitman 
 than for himself. He tried to make it clear to Stikine 
 that what the boy had overheard, if he had really over- 
 heard anything, was a conference between Whitman 
 and Spalding concerning the best methods of combat- 
 ing the diseases with which the Indians were afflicted. 
 The boy had heard the missionaries speak of " medi- 
 cines " to be sent among the Indians. That was 
 enough for an excited and ignorant mind to found the 
 wildest and most improbable story upon. 
 
 Stikine listened gravely. 
 
 '' It is very strange," was his comment. 
 
 Then he went away. 
 
 " I shall not hesitate any longer," said Phil. " If it 
 
THE ESCAPE i8i 
 
 can be done, we will get out of this lodge, and out of 
 the village, to-night." 
 
 ** How can we do it ? You will find me as ready to 
 go as you are." 
 
 Phil tapped the breast of his fringed hunting-shirt. 
 Only one guard was on duty before the lodge entrance, 
 and this one, as they had discovered, understood no 
 English. Nevertheless, Phil spoke in a low tone : — 
 
 "The few powders that I have here, which the Ind- 
 ians didn't find, are of opium, or something like that. 
 Whitman divided them up into doses, and told me 
 never to give one unless an Indian was suffering very 
 great pain. He said that one of them would put a 
 man to sleep and cause him to sleep several hours." 
 
 Ben Allen's homely face shone with interest and 
 excitement. 
 
 '' If you can do it ! Say, that's great ! We ought to 
 have tried it before." 
 
 " I wasn't ready to leave. I haven't really wanted to 
 leave until the last few days. Now we have got to leave." 
 
 " We are in danger of being killed here ? " 
 
 ** I don't know. I have felt all along that the fact 
 that I am considered a Cayuse by these people would 
 be a protection, and would protect you as well as me. 
 I want to get away now to give warning to Marcus 
 Whitman." 
 
i82 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 He explained the situation as he saw it. The con- 
 dition of affairs in that village was no doubt a type of 
 that in every village. All the Cayuses were becoming 
 daily more incensed against the whites. Phil feared a 
 massacre, or a series of them, and a general Indian war. 
 
 At intervals throughout the day he and Ben Allen 
 discussed various plans for escaping that night in the 
 darkness. Fortunately the moon did not rise until late. 
 In their walks about the village, before their close con- 
 finement in the lodge, they had observed everything 
 very narrowly. They knew the location of each lodge, 
 and what particular chief or warrior occupied it. They 
 knew just where the ponies were kept and how they 
 were guarded. They had observed the configuration of 
 the surrounding country and the trails which led to and 
 from the village. 
 
 As night drew on, Ben became exceedingly nervous. 
 If Phil Curtis had not kept him from doing so, he would 
 have gone continually to the entrance to look out. 
 
 Many strange Indians came into the village that day. 
 There was much suppressed excitement, together with 
 frequent conferences and a great deal of talk. With 
 the coming of darkness drums began to boom in the 
 council lodge. 
 
 " I wish I knew what is to be said in that lodge 
 to-night," was Phil's thought. 
 
THE ESCAPE 183 
 
 What he feared was that warriors were gathering to 
 march against the white settlements. Once, while stay- 
 ing with his father in a Sioux village beyond the moun- 
 tains, he had seen a war party prepare and set off against 
 the Pawnees. The same excitement he now observed 
 had been noticeable then. He remembered how the 
 war drums had boomed in the big council lodge of the 
 Sioux. He had gone in with his father, and had there 
 listened to the bombastic and fiery speeches of the chiefs 
 and the head men. Then, the next day, he had seen 
 the warriors ride away in war-paint and decked with 
 feathers. 
 
 There were many good qualities in Stikine. Until 
 the time of their imprisonment he had treated the boys 
 almost as if they were invited guests. The food given 
 them was as good as the Cayuses had themselves, and 
 it was supplied in abundance. 
 
 This food Phil and Ben cooked over their own fire, 
 which they built usually out of doors, though sometimes, 
 in rough weather, they used the fire-hole in the centre 
 of the lodge. 
 
 As they prepared their simple meal of soup and meat 
 this evening, Phil engaged the guard in a friendly con- 
 versation. He inquired concerning the meaning of the 
 drum beating and the excited gathering of the Indians 
 in council. 
 
i84 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ''You would like to go?" said Phil. " I should like 
 to attend the council myself." 
 
 The guard looked longingly in the direction of the 
 council lodge, but shook his head. He would not leave 
 his post, nor would he give definite answers. 
 
 Phil ladled out some of the soup into a bowl made 
 from a wild gourd. 
 
 "It is good," he said, speaking to the guard. 
 
 Then he drank the soup, smacking his lips with much 
 gusto. 
 
 He saw the guard look hungrily at the bowl. 
 
 " I can get you some," Phil volunteered. 
 
 Turning back into the lodge, he dipped another 
 gourdfu], contriving at the same time to drop into it two 
 of the powders which he had kept secreted so long in 
 the inner pocket of his hunting-shirt. 
 
 Winter was at hand, and the night was cool, with the 
 wind blowing fresh from the mountains. The steaming 
 soup in the bowl was tempting, and the unsuspicious 
 guard drank it greedily. 
 
 So long a time passed after that before Phil noticed 
 any effects of the opiate that he began to fear the drug 
 had lost its virtue. Ben Allen was in a fit of nervous 
 terror. He was almost afraid to look at the Indian lest 
 the latter's suspicions should be aroused ; but Phil con- 
 tinued to talk to the guard, and to speak of what was 
 
"'NOW IS OUR TIME,' PHIL WHISPERED. 
 
THE ESCAPE 185 
 
 probably occurring in the council house, where the 
 drums were now booming at a great rate and orators' 
 voices could be heard. 
 
 To Phil's great joy the Indian at last began to show 
 signs of drowsiness. He yawned and stretched his 
 arms ; then he walked to and fro in front of the lodge 
 to drive away the strange feeUng of sleepiness that was 
 oppressing him. By and by, losing his sense of caution, 
 he sat down in front of the lodge, with his gun across 
 
 his knees. 
 
 Indians were still passing to and fro between the 
 lodges, but the attention of every one was centred on 
 the big lodge where the council was in progress. Phil 
 could have cried for joy, when at last, overpowered 
 by the drug, the guard leaned heavily back against the 
 lodge covering, letting his head fall upon his breast. 
 
 " Now is our time," Phil whispered. 
 
 In another moment he and Ben Allen were outside. 
 Stepping over the sleeping sentinel, who sat almost in 
 the entrance, Phil moved quickly round the lodge. Ben 
 followed closely at his heels, shivering with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " If we had our guns," said Ben. 
 
 " Yes, I have been thinking of that. I know where 
 they are, and I will get them. You stay here." 
 
 He looked about in the darkness. 
 
i86 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " In those bushes over there will be a better place 
 for you to hide. Come ! " 
 
 He took Ben by the hand, and together they walked 
 toward the bushes. 
 
 *' I will be back in just a minute. Don't move. 
 Don't stir, no matter what happens. Even if the 
 guard is discovered, stay right where you are." 
 
 " All right," said Ben ; but his voice trembled. 
 
 Phil turned away in the darkness, disappearing like 
 a shadow. He was gone less than five minutes, though 
 to Ben Allen the time was interminable. He returned 
 without the guns, but he had his hunting-knife in its 
 leather case and a little cooked food wrapped in a roll 
 of bark. 
 
 "I couldn't find the guns," he said; "but we're in 
 luck to get these things. I was afraid to make too 
 much of a search. Put some of this meat in your 
 pockets. Now I'm ready to see what we can do, if 
 you are." 
 
 *'You lead the way," said Ben. "I'll follow you, 
 and I'll do my best to keep from stumbHng, though I 
 can't see anything hardly. What I am most afraid of 
 is the dogs. One of them came sniffing around the 
 bushes while you were gone. It made my hair creep, 
 but when I kicked at him he ran away." 
 
 Phil headed into the darkness that bordered the 
 
THE ESCAPE 187 
 
 village. As soon as he and Ben were beyond the 
 farthest lodge, they turned at right angles and passed 
 up over the timbered hill which led to the small pas- 
 ture where the ponies were herded at night. 
 
 Phil Curtis seemed to move with the lightness and 
 certainty of a cat. Ben Allen blundered and stumbled 
 along behind him. Phil was a trained mountaineer, 
 with almost the instinct of an Indian in such matters, 
 while Ben was a clumsy farmer lad, wholly new to 
 such experiences. 
 
 When they had gained the vicinity of the pony herd, 
 Phil went forward to locate the guards. He knew 
 that it was customary to have two night herders in 
 charge of the ponies. On this night he could find 
 but one, and he came to the conclusion that the other 
 had gone into the village to attend the council. 
 
 Having discovered the position of the guard, Phil 
 now began a search for bridles and halters. It was 
 slow work, and he knew that Ben Allen would think 
 he had been gone a very long time. The only thing 
 he could find was a rawhide rope, but his fingers 
 closed on it eagerly. With this in his hand he ap- 
 proached a pony that was lying down. It sprang up 
 as he drew near it, but he got the rawhide about its 
 neck, succeeded in making a slip noose, and led the 
 pony away in spite of its struggles. 
 
1 88 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 The noise alarmed the guard, and he spoke out in a 
 sharp, excited tone, disclosing the fact that the second 
 guard was stationed at the lower end of the pasture 
 some distance away. He called to this man and was 
 answered by him. 
 
 '* Wolves troubhng the ponies," said one of them. 
 " They keep them frightened all the time. Two wolves 
 passed along the ridge over there just at nightfall." 
 
 If Phil had been seen by either of the guards, as he 
 crept from point to point in his search for accoutre- 
 ments, he would no doubt have been mistaken for one 
 of the wolves mentioned, and very possibly an arrow 
 or a bullet would have been sent in his direction. 
 
 Standing now with the rawhide noose about the 
 neck of the pony, and one hand over the pony's nose, 
 he waited like a statue in the darkness ; then finding 
 that neither of the guards was coming in his direction, 
 he led the pony quietly along toward the point where 
 Ben Allen lay in concealment. 
 
 "Stay right here, and hold it until I can bring up 
 another," he whispered, passing the rawhide lariat to 
 Ben. 
 
 " I began to think something had happened to you, 
 you stayed so long." 
 
 " Yes, I was gone a good while'; but these things 
 can't be done in a hurry. Don't worry if I should be 
 
THE ESCAPE 189 
 
 gone even longer this time. You must try to keep 
 the pony quiet." 
 
 Ben Allen rubbed its nose. 
 
 '* I can keep the brute quiet all right, I think. I 
 am used to horses. One of the things I hated about 
 that farm work back in Indianny was that I had to 
 take care of the horses all the time. I hope you won't 
 be gone long." 
 
 Phil was moving away even before Ben finished 
 speaking. He was not so successful in this second 
 attempt. He could find no lariat. Taking one of the 
 ponies at last by the foretop, he tried to lead it, but 
 it resisted his efforts and becoming frightened broke 
 away from him. Instantly there was great confusion 
 among the other ponies. The guards began to shout 
 to each other. 
 
 In his desperation Phil laid hold of the mane of the 
 first pony he came to. Springing on its back, he 
 gouged its sides with his heels and sought to ride it 
 out of the herd, which was now a confused, moving 
 mass. One of the herders, who had dropped on his 
 face, knowing he could see better in that position with 
 the sky as a background, caught an indistinct view 
 of the figure of Phil mounted on the back of the plung- 
 ing pony. Then a rifle cracked, sending a ball singing 
 past Phil's ears, and announcing to the village by its 
 
I90 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 loud report that something was wrong with the pony 
 herd. 
 
 In spite of the peril of his situation, Phil Curtis did 
 not lose self-control. He was a good horseman, even 
 though placed under a great disadvantage ; and by 
 swaying his body from side to side, striking with his 
 heels, and dragging at the mane, he rode the pony out 
 of the herd. 
 
 The confusion was now a wild uproar. From the vil- 
 lage came shouts and calls. The herders yelled. A 
 number of the ponies, stricken with panic, stampeded in 
 a body. 
 
 ** This way ! " said Phil, as he reached Ben Allen's 
 side. " I was afraid you would be gone. Now, can you 
 follow me } We've got to ride, and ride lively. Keep 
 close at my heels, and don't get lost in the darkness." 
 
 '' Ride ahead," said Ben. '' I will do my best." 
 
 Scarcely had he said it when one of the guards came 
 racing in their direction. Phil clattered away on his bri- 
 dleless pony. A portion of the stampeding herd came 
 swinging by. Ben Allen could not see a rod in advance 
 of him, and he soon discovered, to his consternation, 
 that he was not following Phil Curtis at all, but some of 
 the stampeding ponies. 
 
 "Well, this is a go ! " was his thought. "What I am 
 to do, even if I'm not captured, I don't know. But 
 
THE ESCAPE 191 
 
 whatever comes, I'll not go back into that village if I 
 can help it." 
 
 By drawing in with all his might on the choking lariat, 
 he succeeded in reducing the speed of the pony, and at 
 last brought it to a halt. The rest of the herd had raced 
 on, and were soon out of sight. Stillness and darkness 
 reigned. Afar off there was a confused sound, which 
 he knew was made by the searching Indians. Still far- 
 ther away he heard the mournful howling of wolves. 
 
 Now that he was left to his own resources, Ben Allen 
 showed that he was a lad who could rely upon himself. 
 As long as Phil Curtis had been with him to direct and 
 advise, he had trusted to Phil's guidance. 
 
 " I shall know where I am, or at least what direction 
 is east, when the sun rises," was his thought. " Even if 
 I can't find Phil, I think I can find my way out of these 
 hills." 
 
 Looking up, he began to study the stars. He picked 
 out the Big Dipper, and by it located the North Star ; 
 but when he had thought over the matter, he concluded 
 that it might be better to remain where he was, or in 
 that vicinity, until morning. 
 
 By and by, when the moon rose, he found what 
 seemed to be a secure hiding-place in a cleft of the 
 hills. There he tied his pony with the rawhide lariat, 
 and putting his back against a rock, he sat down to think 
 
192 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 over his situation and to pass the night as well as he 
 could. 
 
 " I'm in a pickle, but better off, Hkely, than if we'd 
 remained in the village," he mused. *' It's too bad that 
 I became separated from Phil. When morning comes, I 
 shall try to work toward the lower country if I don't 
 find him. I shall have to go about it pretty carefully, 
 too, for these Indians will be hunting for the ponies and 
 for us. I can give them a pretty good race, though, on 
 that Cayuse. He is a goer when he gets started." 
 
 Thus thinking, and feeling very tired as his excite- 
 ment wore away, Ben Allen fell asleep, and slept 
 soundly until the sun was high in the sky and shining 
 in his face. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 PHIL'S ADVENTURES 
 
 PHIL CURTIS was considerably disconcerted and 
 very much distressed when he discovered that Ben 
 Allen was not following him. 
 
 He made this discovery before he had gone very far, 
 and he altered the course of his pony, swinging it out of 
 its direct line of flight by pulUng heavily on its mane 
 and pressing against its body with his knees. The noise 
 of clattering hoofs was greater in the direction in which 
 he now urged the pony, and he thought it Hkely that 
 Ben Allen was somewhere in the midst of that uproar. 
 
 Behind him and before him, as well as upon each 
 hand, there was also a confused thundering of hoofs. 
 The yells of the night herders were still Hfting in an ear- 
 splitting way, and far behind, toward the village, was 
 the confused sound of a great commotion. 
 
 "The whole village seems to be out after us," was his 
 thought, as he fled on. 
 
 Not seeing Ben Allen, nor hearing anything of him, 
 he began to call aloud. There was no answer — only the 
 
 193 
 
194 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 thudding of hoofs, and the yells which still echoed on 
 the disturbed air of the night. 
 
 " I'm afraid Ben will fall into trouble. This is new 
 business to him, riding like mad over such rough ground, 
 and no doubt he's scared blue. There's no telling which 
 way he has taken. I suppose he's gone in whatever 
 direction that pony headed for, if it hasn't thrown him 
 and bolted before now." 
 
 Again Phil called, venturing to raise his voice to a 
 still higher pitch, but there was no reply. 
 
 The headlong pace at which the pony was carrying 
 him was in itself a menace. There was danger that 
 at any time it might stumble in the darkness, and, 
 hurling its rider over its head, kill him or so injure him 
 as to render him helpless. Appreciating the gravity of 
 his situation, Phil by degrees pulled the pony farther 
 and farther to the right, until by and by he had the 
 satisfaction of seeing the last of the stampeded herd 
 scamper by. 
 
 "But I'm not safe yet," was his conclusion; and he 
 still bore to the right, finding some level ground where 
 travelling was not so difficult. 
 
 Now that he had the animal out of the herd, he found 
 it not so unmanageable. It had been well broken 
 by its Indian master, who had ridden it in many a 
 wild chase. The Cayuse ponies were a good breed, 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 195 
 
 stocky and well built, and, for Indian ponies, very- 
 reliable. 
 
 Sitting on the pony, in a thick growth that screened 
 him well in the darkness, Phil listened long for some 
 sound which might indicate the position or the fate 
 of Ben Allen. The thunder of the hoofs of the stam- 
 peded herd was dying away in the direction of the 
 lower hills. The yells of the Indians had ceased to 
 ring out, yet Phil knew that the pursuit of the ponies 
 would not be discontinued readily. In fact, he was 
 sure that some of the Indians would continue the 
 search until the last one was found and returned to 
 the village. 
 
 Phil became even more distressed as the time passed, 
 and he thought of what might have happened to Ben. 
 He wanted to leave the hills immediately and hurry 
 on to the Waiilatpu mission, for he felt that he had 
 news of importance for Marcus Whitman ; yet he 
 could not depart without first discovering if any mis- 
 hap had befallen his comrade. If Ben were in danger 
 or trouble, it was his duty to assist him. 
 
 " He may have been captured," was one of the 
 reflections that troubled Phil. "In that case it will 
 go hard with him. The temper of these Indians has 
 reached the breaking point. They will be mad with 
 rage when they discover that we drugged the guard, 
 
196 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 and of course they will know that we stampeded the 
 ponies. These things will give old Umtippi and 
 Waskema just the arguments they've been wanting. 
 I don't believe Stikine could stand up for us against 
 them now." 
 
 Phil remained where he was until the moon rose and 
 began to brighten the hills. There was an advantage 
 in the clearing away of the darkness which had 
 sheltered him. He could see which way to go. There- 
 fore, he left the thicket and rode slowly back over the 
 route he had come, realizing as he went on how mad 
 had been that wild flight in the midst of the stampeded 
 ponies, and how terrible his peril. He had not felt 
 the danger then as now. The ground was very broken, 
 filled with rocks, and gullied here and there, and it 
 seemed a miracle that the pony had not broken either 
 its neck or his own. 
 
 Phil seemed to have the instinct of an Indian. The 
 many years he had spent in the trapping grounds of 
 the mountains and in Indian lodges had quickened 
 certain of his faculties — those faculties which usually 
 fail the ordinary civilized man through disuse. As 
 he rode on, he saw everything that could possibly be 
 revealed by the white light of the moon. He heard 
 every sound of the hills. From afar off came the long- 
 drawn howl of a wolf. Nearer at hand some small 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 197 
 
 animal of the night gave tongue in chase. Nocturnal 
 insects scraped and buzzed. Across the night sky 
 overhead a bird passed occasionally with whistling 
 beat of wing. With the exception of these sounds, a 
 great stillness lay on the hills ; yet Phil Curtis was not 
 afraid, nor was he lonesome. His thoughts were of 
 Ben Allen, of Marcus Whitman, and of the dancing 
 and howling Cayuses in the village. 
 
 A long time was required to cover the ground which 
 had been passed over so quickly, and the moon was 
 riding high in the sky when Phil neared the lodges of 
 Stikine. As he approached them he again heard the 
 booming of drums in the council house. 
 
 "They're still at it, and may keep at it all night. 
 The Indian mind is a strange thing. Instead of going 
 about a matter as a white man would, it seems neces- 
 sary for an Indian to work himself up to a certain 
 pitch of excitement; so he drums and howls and 
 dances, boasts of what he has done and what he 
 intends to do, and by and by, when he feels brave 
 enough or furious enough, he is ready to rush out 
 and do the thing he wants to, or go upon the war- 
 path, if that is what has been in his mind. War-path 
 business is what is in the minds of these Indians, in 
 my opinion." 
 
 Phil knew that the herd had not been recovered; 
 
198 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 yet he found, when he drew near to the old herding 
 ground, that some of the ponies had been brought 
 back. He was now in a quandary. He wanted to 
 leave his pony and creep into the village, to find out if 
 Ben Allen was held there as a prisoner ; but he had 
 neither rope nor halter. 
 
 Native ingenuity came to his aid. Alighting he 
 stripped several long pieces of flexible bark from a 
 tree, and uniting these with some twisted withes he 
 contrived to make a halter that would answer. With 
 this he tethered the pony in what seemed to be a 
 secure place. Then he began his attempt to get 
 nearer to the lodges. 
 
 Phil was well aware that this effort would be attended 
 by a good deal of danger, yet he felt he could not leave 
 the hills without knowing certainly what had become of 
 Ben Allen. Taking advantage of every bit of broken 
 ground, of every shadow and rock, he crept forward, 
 crawling and sliding along as if he were the veriest 
 wolf of the Blue Mountains. 
 
 It was difficult and delicate work, yet not so difficult 
 and delicate to him as it would have been to one un- 
 accustomed to it. This was not the first time he had 
 crept forward upon possible enemies ; and he had 
 slipped in that way on even the wildest of the game 
 animals of the hills. Every twig that might snap and 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 199 
 
 betray his presence, he removed carefully before he 
 went on. Now and then he stopped and lay flat, 
 almost holding his breath as he listened. 
 
 In this manner, exercising infinite patience and per- 
 severance, Phil Curtis drew near to the lodges, and 
 by and by crept among them, crawling up to the very 
 wall of the council lodge itself. He could tell from 
 the sounds within that it was crowded with Cayuses. 
 Waskema was there, for he could hear her croaking 
 voice. Old Umtippi was also in the lodge, and was, 
 at the moment, addressing the assembled Indians. The 
 murmurs of applause, of vindictive fury, and of fiery 
 hatred against the whites, which reached Phil, showed 
 very clearly the present temper of these members of 
 Stikine's band. 
 
 Phil listened most for some word which would tell 
 him of Ben Allen. When he had lain there a long 
 time and heard nothing, he began to feel certain that 
 Ben was still somewhere in the hills ; that the Indians 
 had not overtaken him, and that, for the present, at 
 least, he was safe. A little later a statement of Um- 
 tippi made him sure of this. 
 
 The old medicine man referred to the escape of the 
 boys who had been virtually held as prisoners, and of 
 the finding of the drugged guard. 
 
 "Putting the guard to sleep was a part of the 
 
200 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 witchcraft which was hidden in those bottles," said 
 Umtippi. 
 
 He recalled to the Cayuses the fact that he had 
 warned them against the spirits imprisoned in those 
 bottles. Those spirits had been put there, he said, 
 by Doct' Whit'n, who professed to be a friend of the 
 Cayuses, but who was in reality their enemy. Doct' 
 Whit'n had sent these boys to Stikine's village that 
 they might there loose the spirits in the bottles and 
 destroy the Cayuses. 
 
 As old Umtippi went on making his statements, and 
 uttering his fiery denunciations, the mystery of why 
 Phil and Ben Allen had been seized and held so long 
 as prisoners without being injured, was cleared away. 
 Because Phil Curtis was the adopted son of Tilskit, 
 the Indians would not raise their hands against him. 
 Nevertheless, they had detained him and his companion 
 to keep them from going to other villages and scattering 
 the spirits, which the Indians believed they had brought 
 with them. Those were evil spirits, bad spirits, spirits 
 of disease and death — spirits which the medicine man, 
 Umtippi, had combated with all his power. 
 
 Phil could hear him telling how he had fought against 
 these bad spirits. Sometimes he had conquered, he 
 said, and at other times he had failed. When he had 
 failed, the bad spirits had been more powerful than he, 
 and had dragged the sick down to their death. 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 201 
 
 Then Phil learned that but a few minutes before a 
 woman sick of measles had died. Umtippi told how he 
 had tried to save her ; but he claimed he could not, for 
 the evil spirits which had helped the white prisoners to 
 escape, which had aided them in putting a deep sleep 
 on the guard, had thwarted his efforts. The woman 
 had died, and she had been slain, he declared, by the 
 spirits which had assisted the prisoners. 
 
 Old Stikine, though he was superstitious, so much 
 so that he believed many of the things said by Umtippi, 
 attempted to voice a feeble protest. He still had faith 
 in Marcus Whitman, and he had the courage to say so ; 
 yet he acknowledged that the bringing of those bottles 
 into the village was a queer thing, and not to be 
 accounted for. He could but admit that the woman 
 had died, that the guard had fallen into a very strange 
 sleep, from which he could not be aroused, and that the 
 prisoners had escaped; yet he told the Cayuses they 
 should not be hasty, nor hurry to redden their hands 
 in the white men's blood. 
 
 That last sentence thrilled Phil Curtis to his finger- 
 tips. It assured him beyond peradventure that the 
 Cayuses gathered in the medicine lodge were discuss- 
 ing the question of moving at once against the white 
 men in the valley settlements. 
 
 As the talk went on, with first one warrior and then 
 
202 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 another giving expression to his opinions, Phil learned 
 further that nearly all of the Cayuse bands were in 
 a wild ferment ; and that not only were the Cayuses 
 thrilled with a feeling of enmity against the whites, but 
 hostility had risen in the hearts of the Nez Perces and 
 other Oregon tribes. 
 
 For nearly an hour Phil Curtis lay with his face on 
 the ground, listening to the talk in the council lodge. 
 The moon was almost midway in the sky before he 
 crept away. He was forced to move with exceeding 
 stealth now, and he progressed so slowly and painfully 
 that any one watching him would have doubted that he 
 moved at all. Whenever he saw an Indian walking 
 among the lodges, or a dog come sniffing in his direction, 
 he lay as still as if he were one of the shadows that spotted 
 the ground. When the danger was past, he crawled on 
 again, quietly and cautiously. 
 
 By and by, when he was at some distance from the 
 medicine lodge, and on the very outskirts of the village, 
 he crept along with greater speed ; but not until he was 
 well beyond the last lodge did he venture to rise to his 
 feet and walk with quick footsteps in the direction of 
 his pony. 
 
 "I'm glad I went back," was his thought. *'I know 
 now just what the Indians are planning, and I know 
 that Ben is not there. I hope he has struck for the 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 203 
 
 lower hills. If he has, he will get away. If he has 
 gone in the other direction, he will be captured. I will 
 look for him in the morning." 
 
 Phil used as much care in riding away from the 
 village as he had in approaching it. When he' had 
 put several miles behind him he stopped, dismounted, 
 tied the pony, and remained there until morning. With 
 the first streakings of light he began his search for 
 Ben Allen. 
 
 When the forenoon was pretty well spent, he came 
 upon an Indian boy, and while still some distance away 
 heard him singing, or mumbling, in a queer way. 
 Dismounting and leaving his pony behind him, Phil 
 slipped forward. The boy was standing at the foot 
 of a small tree in a ravine, and seemed to be talking 
 to the air. He was looking upward, but there was 
 nothing in the tree. 
 
 Familiar as he was with the customs of these Indians, 
 Phil knew immediately what this meant. It was the 
 working out of one of the Cayuse superstitions. 
 The tribe beheved that all beasts, birds, reptiles, and 
 fishes were once races of men, and that these creatures 
 possessed the power to enter into men, and to talk 
 to them, for the purpose of controlHng and directing 
 them. Every Cayuse boy was required, when he 
 reached a certain age, to go alone into the mountains, 
 
204 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 and remain there for several days without food, in 
 order that he might be addressed by some animal, 
 reptile, bird, or fish. 
 
 If the boy were worthy, if he fasted long and strenu- 
 ously, it was believed that he would hear a voice speak- 
 ing to him. This voice would tell him what his future 
 was to be, and in what way he could secure honor and 
 long life. It would tell him how he might become 
 invulnerable, and what he should do if wounded, that 
 he might recover quickly. 
 
 Some of the Cayuse boys returned without hearing 
 any mysterious voice or receiving any assurances. 
 Others, when they came back, told what they had 
 heard, — what beast or bird, what reptile or fish, had 
 spoken to them. Still others professed great secrecy, 
 and would not reveal the wonderful things they had 
 seen and Hstened to. 
 
 This belief and practice of the Cayuses, as Phil 
 knew, was the foundation of the system of sorcery 
 practised by the medicine men. The bird or beast 
 which talked with the boy ever after aided him in 
 warding off evil spirits and the spells which enemies 
 might try to cast upon him. 
 
 After listening for a time to the words of the boy, 
 who seemed to be addressing the empty air, Phil 
 Curtis rose from behind the rock where he had con- 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURES 205 
 
 cealed himself and spoke to the young Cayuse. The 
 latter started, and whirled round with staring eyes and 
 open mouth. He had been fancying, or trying to 
 fancy, that he heard a voice in the air. Now he heard 
 a real voice, and its tones frightened him. When he 
 beheld Phil, he seemed on the point of running away. 
 
 •' Stop ! " said Phil. " Are you not Neski, the nephew 
 of Stikine .? " 
 
 The boy stared, wondering. He was in so strange 
 a mental state that he was willing and ready to believe 
 anything. He would not have been surprised if told 
 that Phil had dropped down behind that rock from 
 the sky. 
 
 "Yes, I am the nephew of Stikine; I am Neski." 
 
 " Have you seen another white boy around here } " 
 Phil asked. " There were two white boys in the village, 
 you remember, — myself and another." 
 
 '* I have seen no white boy," said Neski. " I have 
 seen no one for two days. All that long time I have 
 been here, fasting and talking to the spirits. I thought 
 I heard a voice. I thought it was the voice of 
 the bird that builds its nest in the tops of the tall 
 redwoods down by the sea. It was telling me to be 
 brave, and that I should become a great warrior. Then 
 I heard your voice. Now I do not hear the other 
 voice at all." 
 
2o6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil Curtis felt a deep sense of pity for Neski. The 
 Indian boy was so sincere in his superstition, that Phil 
 could not doubt he believed he had heard a mysterious 
 voice coming down from the sky. It is so easy to believe 
 strange things when we are in the proper mental state. 
 
 "Neski," said Phil, "your people are thinking black 
 thoughts against the white men. You have not been 
 there for two days, and you do not know all that I 
 know. The voice you heard told you to be brave. 
 A brave man does not injure any one without need. 
 The white boy who was with me in the lodge in Sti- 
 kine's village is somewhere about here. If you should 
 see him, tell him that I go at once to the mission at 
 Waiilatpu ; and tell him, t®o, that he should ride toward 
 the mission without delay. It is in that direction." 
 
 Phil pointed far off across the hills. 
 
 " You are the friend of Stikine," said the young 
 Cayuse, " and if I see the boy I shall tell him. I shall 
 tell him because you are the friend of Stikine. Now, 
 if you will go away, I will again try to hear the voice 
 of the bird that builds its nest in the tops of the tall 
 redwoods down by the sea." 
 
 Phil Curtis rode off in the direction he had indi- 
 cated. 
 
 " Ben was not captured, that is sure ; and as he is a 
 pretty sensible fellow and had a good pony, I think it 
 
PHIL'S ADVENTURE'S 207 
 
 is safe to say that he will try to get back to the mission 
 without my aid. The only thing I am afraid of is that 
 he is hunting for me somewhere in these hills. But I 
 don't think I ought to stay here any longer. I must 
 go on to the mission. The news that I have for Doctor 
 Whitman is urgent and important." 
 
 So Phil Curtis rode away, watching carefully as he 
 passed on, that he might not fall into the hands of any 
 body of Cayuses who were out in search of the scat- 
 tered ponies. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 STARTLING NEWS 
 
 IT was mid-afternoon before Phil found himself 
 well out of the hills and approaching the more 
 level country that stretched on toward Waiilatpu. He 
 had maintained his native caution, keeping always to 
 the lower ground and seeking such concealment as he 
 could find for himself and his pony. He had seen no 
 Indians, though once or twice he had fancied he heard 
 them calling to each other in the distance. But now 
 before him he beheld a thin column of smoke mount- 
 ing into the air, indicating, as he believed, an Indian 
 camp-fire. 
 
 " Perhaps I had better investigate that fire before I 
 go on," was his thought. 
 
 Therefore, he slipped from his pony, tying it as 
 securely as he could with the lariat he had manufac- 
 tured of bark and withes. Then he crept in the 
 direction of the column of smoke, taking advantage 
 of every inequality of surface and of every intervening 
 rock to conceal his approach. His astonishment was 
 
 208 
 
STARTLING NEWS 209 
 
 great, as he thus advanced, when a head was lifted, 
 and he saw Ben Allen stand erect in the open. 
 
 "He's a fine woodsman," was Phil's sarcastic com- 
 ment. ** He doesn't know enough to come in when 
 it rains." 
 
 Yet Phil Curtis liked and admired Ben Allen. He 
 was only alarmed and disturbed by Ben's apparent 
 recklessness. He was about to step out and reveal 
 himself, when a humorous thought came to him. 
 
 "I will give him a scare; he deserves it." 
 
 Then, instead of advancing openly, he moved on as 
 cautiously as if he were approaching a hostile encamp- 
 ment. He found not the least trouble in thus creep- 
 ing on the unsuspecting youth. After staring about 
 a while, Ben Allen dropped down by the side of his 
 fire, seeming to feel that inasmuch as he was now well 
 out of the hills he was safe. Just beyond him, in the 
 depression, his pony, tied with the rawhide lariat, was 
 grazing peacefully. Ben was apparently feeling very 
 much at home. This Vv^as more in appearance, how- 
 ever, than in reality, for he had been greatly distressed 
 about Phil, and was still very much worried. 
 
 When Phil had crawled to within a dozen yards of 
 Ben, he picked up a small stone and hurled it with such 
 accuracy that it struck in the midst of the fire, scat- 
 tering the ashes and embers in every direction. That 
 
2IO A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 stone, and its explosive effect, startled Ben Allen half 
 out of his wits. He leaped to his feet with a cry of 
 fright and seemed on the point of dashing away. Then 
 he stared about, while his mouth dropped open and his 
 eyes rolled in fright. 
 
 Phil Curtis rose into view, laughing heartily. 
 
 " Serves you right," he said, and he advanced 
 toward the fire. '* If I had been a hostile Indian, I 
 could have slipped in on* you and had your scalp with- 
 out the least trouble." 
 
 Ben's face flushed scarlet. 
 
 "You scared me out of my wits," he confessed. 
 " Was that a rock you threw ? I didn't know what it 
 was, or where it came from ; but I'm mighty glad to 
 see you, I was afraid the Indians had captured you." 
 Then, regaining his mental equilibrium, he began to 
 laugh too, though his flushed face still showed how 
 confused he was and how sheepish he felt. 
 
 " I'm awfully glad to see you, Ben," said Phil. '' I 
 was as much worried about you as you could possibly 
 have been about me. I even sUpped back into the 
 village to find out if they had made a prisoner of you. 
 You were not there, and then I began to fear that you 
 might have ridden in the wrong direction, deeper into the 
 hills ; but you're all right. How have you got along ? " 
 
 Ben Allen's story was short and soon told. He 
 
STARTLING NEWS 
 
 211 
 
 had wandered about, without knowing where to go, 
 though he had judgment enough to seek the lower 
 ground all the time, for he knew that would lead him 
 by and by out of the hill country. 
 
 "But how did you build a fire?" Phil asked. 
 '' I didn't ; it was already built. I just found it 
 here. It was nearly out, and I stirred it up again. 
 I didn't Hke that cold meat I've been gnawing on, 
 and I thought I could roast it or warm it a little on 
 the coals, so that it would taste better." 
 
 Phil Curtis looked about very carefully, and then 
 began to walk slowly round the fire in an ever- 
 widening circle. 
 
 "What are you doing.?" Ben inquired. 
 His companion came back to the fire, as he made 
 answer : — 
 
 "I'm very certain this fire was built by Cayuses ; 
 very Hkely by a party out looking for those ponies. 
 It may have been another party, though, belonging 
 to some other Cayuse band." 
 
 "What makes you think they were Cayuses.?" 
 " It's partly guesswork. There are moccasin tracks 
 over there, in that softer ground. That shows they 
 were Indians. It's not likely there are any Indians 
 about here except Cayuses. That is why I said they 
 were Cayuses." 
 
212 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *'0h," said Ben, "it's simple enough after all! It 
 made me wonder how you knew." 
 
 Phil Curtis was not satisfied with the survey made 
 in the vicinity of the camp-fire. After bringing up 
 his pony, he went to the top of the nearest hill and 
 from that point scrutinized the surrounding country 
 carefully. Not a living thing was in sight. 
 
 *• Ben," he said, speaking very sternly, as he re- 
 turned, *'if you should ever be out in the hills like 
 this again, with Indians prowling round, let me warn 
 you now never to build a fire, unless you have to ! 
 The way I knew you were here was because I saw 
 your smoke. A band of Indians might have seen it 
 in just the same way. They could have crept on you 
 as easily as I did. Then, if they had been hostile, it 
 wouldn't have been pleasant for you." 
 
 Phil had already scattered the camp-fire, so that the 
 telltale smoke no longer rose into the air. 
 
 *'We had better go on now," he said, "if you feel 
 all right and are rested. I am worried about Doctor 
 Whitman." 
 
 "Oh, I'm all right," Ben asserted, and he hastened to 
 get his pony. " I wish I had a saddle, though. I never 
 did like to ride bareback. One of the things I didn't 
 like about the farm work back in Indianny was that I 
 had to ride my plough horse bareback to the corn-field." 
 
STARTLING NEWS 213 
 
 "You could have walked," said Phil, laughing. 
 
 " Yes, I could have walked ; but I was too lazy to 
 walk, and it made me tired to ride. But where do 
 we head for now } The mission } " 
 
 "Yes, the mission. We want to get there as soon 
 as we can." 
 
 Phil Curtis took the lead ; and though, so far as he 
 could ascertain, no Indians were near, he tried to 
 exercise due caution, and impressed the necessity of 
 caution upon Ben. 
 
 *'I think I was safe enough back there," the latter 
 insisted, when the camp-fire had been left behind. 
 " Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot, 
 they say ; and for the same reason Indians wouldn't 
 come twice to the same place, I suppose." 
 
 "Eh, what's that.?" cried Phil. 
 
 He drew in suddenly on the mane of his pony. 
 "Follow me down this hill," he said. "There's some 
 one coming." 
 
 They turned aside, and had scarcely secreted them- 
 selves when a young Indian came into view. He was 
 running at a swift Indian lope. 
 
 "Why, it's Timuitti ! " was Phil's exclamation. 
 
 Then he rode out boldly and shouted to the young 
 Indian. 
 
 Timuitti stopped, as if he heard a voice from the 
 
214 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 sky. Seeing the two boys before him he came up to 
 where they sat awaiting him on their ponies. His 
 eyes had a strange, wild look, and he appeared to be 
 greatly excited. Phil saw that he had been running 
 a long distance. 
 
 '' What's up, Timuitti } " Phil asked. 
 
 '' Dead ! " said Timuitti, rolling his eyes. 
 
 " Dead .? " Phil questioned, filled with a sudden sense 
 of impending ill. 
 
 " It was not Cayuse fault," said Timuitti. " It was 
 fault of the half-breed, Joe Lewis." 
 
 "What's happened, Timuitti.? Who's dead.?" Phil 
 demanded. *' Speak up and tell me who is dead." 
 
 " Doct' Whit'n dead," he said. *' Everybody dead 
 — but it was not the fault of the Cayuses." 
 
 The heart of Phil Curtis seemed to rise in his 
 throat and choke him. He felt the tears spring to his 
 eyes, and his sight blurred. Ben Allen was equally 
 startled and affected. 
 
 "There must be some mistake about this, Timuitti," 
 said Phil, unwilling to believe what he had heard. 
 " Tell me about it. What makes you think that 
 Doctor Whitman is dead } " 
 
 "Me there," said Timuitti, in a tone to drive away 
 all doubt. " Me there the day before, with my father, 
 Tilskit. My father, Tilskit, say to Doct' Whit'n that 
 
STARTLING NEWS 215 
 
 the Cayuses have black hearts against him ; and he 
 tell Doct' Whit'n better go away some place until the 
 Cayuses get good hearts again. Doct' Whit'n say he 
 no go away. He say the Cayuses his people, that he 
 love the Cayuses and would do them good ; that the 
 Cayuses need him. He say he no go away." 
 
 Timuitti stopped, hesitating. The whole black tragedy 
 was rising before the imagination of Phil Curtis. 
 
 ''And what then, Timuitti.?" 
 
 "That half-breed come — Joe Lewis." 
 
 " And there were Cayuses with him ? " 
 
 "Yes, many Cayuses — Cayuses with black hearts. 
 And they kill Doct' Whit'n, and Doct' Whit'n's wife, 
 and a great many other people; and they take many 
 other people away with them into the hills." 
 
 " Can you tell me about Cora Carlton — if she was 
 killed, or carried away ? " 
 
 Timuitti did not know. 
 
 Phil Curtis was fairly reeling on the back of his pony. 
 The thing seemed impossible. He had long known 
 that Doctor Whitman was in danger, but he had not 
 let himself think too seriously about it. Looking round 
 now, as if to get some hope or comfort from Ben Allen, 
 he saw that Ben's face was streaming with tears. 
 
 " It's too terrible to be true," said Ben. " I can't 
 believe it." 
 
2i6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Tell me everything you can about it, Timuitti, and 
 give me the names of some of the Indians who were 
 there." 
 
 Timuitti complied as well as he could. Among other 
 names that he mentioned were those of certain mem- 
 bers of Whitman's mission church. For these Indians, 
 especially, Marcus Whitman had done everything that 
 a man could do. For the half-breed renegade, who 
 apparently had been the leader of the miscreants. Whit- 
 man had shown marked kindness. He had taken him 
 into the mission when he had no home ; he had given 
 him food and clothing ; he had assisted him in every 
 possible way. Yet this was the reward. 
 
 " Me go on now," said Timuitti, turning his face 
 toward the hills. 
 
 He was anxious to be away that he might convey the 
 tidings to the village of Tilskit. Phil questioned him 
 as to what had become of his father, and was assured 
 by Timuitti that Tilskit had departed from the Waiilatpu 
 mission many hours before the massacre. He believed 
 that his father had gone to Walla Walla, but was not 
 sure ; but as for himself, he was hurrying to the village 
 in the hills, and was anxious now to continue his 
 journey. 
 
 Phil and Ben watched Timuitti as he climbed the 
 slopes of the broken land, mounting with his long, easy 
 
STARTLING NEWS 217 
 
 Indian lope, and disappearing finally. Then they rode 
 on slowly, with flushed faces, discussing the terrible 
 news. 
 
 '* I ought to have left Stikine's village many days 
 ago," said Phil. '' Perhaps if I had, Doctor Whitman 
 would have listened to me and gone away to some place 
 where he would have been safe. He could have gone 
 to Walla Walla, or down the Columbia to Fort 
 Vancouver." 
 
 " He wouldn't have believed that he was in any dan- 
 ger," Ben Allen urged, anxious to relieve the distress 
 of mind under which he saw that Phil was laboring. 
 
 '* No, likely he wouldn't ; but I should have felt 
 better, if I had given him some warning. Doctor 
 Whitman never understood Indians. Very few people 
 can understand them who have not lived for a long 
 while among them. I know that he has been told 
 many times in the past year that his life was in danger ; 
 but he paid little attention when such things were said 
 to him. More than once I have heard him laugh when 
 some one spoke to him on the subject. He was so kind 
 of heart himself that he looked only for kindness in 
 other people." 
 
 " He was the best man I ever knew," said Ben Allen, 
 and he said it with deep feeling. 
 
 "There's one thing that I have to be thankful for," 
 
2i8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil continued. " From what Timuitti said, no one 
 from Stikine's village was mixed up in the thing. I 
 don't think they knew that any movement had been 
 definitely planned against the mission, even though 
 they were booming their war drum last night and mak- 
 ing speeches against the whites. If this had been done 
 by Stikine's Indians, I don't think I could have ever 
 forgiven myself for not getting away somehow and 
 giving warning." 
 
 The news of the terrible massacre at the Waiilatpu 
 mission made Phil Curtis and Ben Allen understand 
 that they were now in no inconsiderable danger them- 
 selves. The story would run like wildfire among the 
 Indians of Oregon. It would probably cause an upris- 
 ing. Wherever a white man was encountered, the 
 Indians would consider him an enemy and show him 
 no mercy. 
 
 They were soon given confirmation of the news 
 brought by Timuitti, and further details concerning the 
 terrible tragedy at Waiilatpu, by Tom McKay, whom 
 they encountered in the open plain. McKay was 
 accompanied by half a dozen mountain men, who had 
 ridden at hot speed from Walla Walla. Information 
 of the massacre had already reached that place, and 
 was being borne by boatmen down the Columbia to 
 Fort Vancouver. 
 
STARTLING NEWS 219 
 
 "Terrible news, lad!" said McKay, when he had 
 struck hands with the two in greeting. *' Ye have 
 heard it ? " 
 
 " My Indian brother, Timuitti, told us all he could 
 about it." 
 
 "It was terrible, terrible!" said McKay, and the 
 mountain men echoed his declaration. "And as bad 
 as anything is the news about the women." 
 
 "What of the women.?" said Phil, thinking chiefly 
 of Cora Carlton. 
 
 "Whitman and his wife were killed," said McKay; 
 " but a great many girls and women were carried away 
 by the Indians — about forty all together, I'm told. It 
 was the work of the Cayuses. They got away before 
 daylight with all their prisoners, and are now in the 
 hills. Ay, lad, they knew they would be followed, and 
 they will be followed ! " 
 
 " Have you been to the mission ? " asked Phil. 
 
 His chief thought was still of Cora Carlton. If she 
 were a prisoner, she might be rescued. He determined 
 to cling to that hope and to cherish it as long as he 
 could. 
 
 "I am going on there," said McKay. "Will ye 
 ride with us, lad ? But some of us are going back to 
 Walla Walla at once." 
 
 Phil sat on his pony in hesitation. A certain sicken- 
 
220 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing sense made him feel that he could not bear to look 
 on the wreck and ruin at Waiilatpu. 
 
 "I will ride to Walla Walla," he answered. "We 
 need guns and ammunition, Ben and I. Then we will 
 help you to arouse the country. Do you know where 
 my father is ? " 
 
 "He was at Walla Walla when we left. Boy, I tell 
 you the news almost killed him outright, for he thought 
 that ye had been at Waiilatpu. But there were those 
 at Walla Walla who knew that Whitman had sent ye 
 into the Cayuse villages to play medicine man. Your 
 father was to ride down the river and carry the news to 
 the settlers in that direction, when we came away." 
 
 " We will ride to Walla Walla," said Phil. " We must 
 get supplies, and I wish to see my father." 
 
 He looked earnestly at Tom McKay and the other 
 mountain men. 
 
 " Do you think there will be a war .-* " 
 
 "There will be a war against the Cayuses," said 
 McKay. " Messengers have gone to Vancouver. I 
 wish McLoughlin was still chief factor, though Peter 
 Skeen Ogden is a good man." 
 
 He looked at Phil almost fiercely. 
 
 " Lad, if any one ever says to ye that the White- 
 headed Eagle of the Columbia was in favor of such 
 work as that over there at Waiilatpu, tell him to his 
 
STARTLING NEWS 221 
 
 teeth that he lies. Many things have been said against 
 old John McLoughlin ; but he is a man, and always has 
 been, every inch of him. He was a Hudson Bay man, 
 and did not like the coming of the Americans ; but 
 there is brave Scotch blood in his veins, and never any 
 deceit in his heart ; and he treated the Americans 
 kindly, and lost his place because of it." 
 
 Phil Curtis could agree with everything that Tom 
 McKay said in favor of Doctor John McLoughlin. He 
 knew — for the news had gone far and wide — that 
 McLoughlin, in the goodness of his heart, had done so 
 many things for the needy Americans along the Colum- 
 bia that dissatisfaction had arisen against him at the 
 headquarters of the Hudson Bay Company in London, 
 and he had been displaced. The Company did not look 
 kindly on the American settlers. It wished Oregon to 
 be all British — to remain as it was, a land of Indians 
 and fur-bearing animals, which could be made to turn 
 large profits into its own coffers. 
 
 Tom McKay and a few of the mountain men rode on 
 to the mission at Waiilatpu. The other mountaineers 
 turned back toward Walla Walla, accompanied by Phil 
 Curtis and Ben Allen, whose hearts were now shadowed 
 by a great grief. Phil had mourned for Elijah, slain in 
 CaUfornia; but his sorrow over the death of Elijah was 
 as nothing compared with that which he felt now. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 CORA CARLTON 
 
 CORA CARLTON had not entirely approved 
 Doctor Whitman's action in sending Phil Curtis 
 and Ben Allen among the Cayuses, and ever since 
 their departure she had been somewhat uneasy con- 
 cerning their safety. 
 
 She was a natural teacher, and had the missionary 
 spirit. Therefore, she had made herself an invaluable 
 assistant to Mrs. Whitman. She loved her work, and re- 
 joiced to see the rapid advances in education made by 
 her copper-skinned pupils. She had thought that they 
 loved her in return, and that they had a desire to 
 learn the many things which the white men knew. The 
 older Indians had often spoken in terms of praise and 
 approval of her work, and declared their satisfaction 
 in seeing the younger Indians enter upon the white 
 man's way. 
 
 Recently, however, she had begun to doubt and to 
 question. There was a growing spirit of restlessness 
 in the young Indians who attended the school at the 
 Waiilatpu mission. This she attributed to the evil in- 
 
 2.ZZ 
 
CORA CARLTON 223 
 
 fluences exerted on their minds by the inflammatory 
 utterances of such men as Dorion and Delaware Tom, 
 who had continually harangued the Cayuses in an effort 
 to rouse them against the whites. 
 
 The actions and the words of her pupils when the 
 panic broke out in the school because measles had 
 invaded the tribes shocked and alarmed her. She 
 began to see the Indian character in a new light, and 
 perceived that even those pupils who had seemed so 
 tractable and quiet were still but half-wild savages 
 filled with strange and deep superstition. One by one 
 they left the school, with open abuse or veiled cunning ; 
 and the work she had loved, and to which she had 
 given so much of her time and energy, seemed to be 
 falling to pieces. 
 
 Long before that she had been distressed and made 
 uneasy by the strange actions of Matpah. She had 
 shivered and cringed when she knew that his burning 
 eyes were fixed on her, yet she had not dared to order 
 him from the schoolroom. Matpah was influential with 
 these Indians, for he was the son of a chief, and it was 
 expected that he would one day become a chief himself. 
 Therefore, she had spoken kindly to him whenever it 
 was necessary to speak at all, though she had avoided 
 him as much as possible. But Matpah had persisted in 
 following her about, in visiting the schoolroom, where 
 
2 24 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 he was not wanted, and in speaking to her in a way 
 that startled her. 
 
 After that unexpected combat between him and 
 Phil Curtis, Matpah had disappeared entirely — a thing 
 which gave Cora great rehef ; yet she continued to fear 
 him and his influence. She heard of him now and then 
 through Timuitti and others of her pupils. He was out 
 in the hills somewhere, and seemed to have settled into 
 quiet; but he had become the avowed enemy of Phil 
 Curtis. This fact tended to augment her uneasiness, 
 when Phil and Ben Allen remained so long in the hills 
 and no word came from them. 
 
 Measles invaded the mission school itself, attacking 
 two of the few Indian children who had remained faith- 
 ful. All of the children then left the school, with the 
 exception of these two, who could not get away. To 
 them Cora Carlton devoted her time unselfishly, watch- 
 ing by their bedsides and caring for them with all the 
 patience and skill of a trained nurse. 
 
 In the midst of these disquieting circumstances came 
 many other things which tended to destroy her peace of 
 mind. Among these were the visits which certain of 
 the Cayuse chiefs made to the mission for the purpose 
 of talking with Marcus Whitman. He was not there a 
 great deal, for he was very busy attending to the needs 
 of the sick in the scattered Cayuse villages ; but when- 
 
CORA CARLTON 225 
 
 ever these chiefs chanced to meet him at the mission, 
 their words concerned the danger that he was now in. 
 
 *' The heart of the Indian is very bad against you," 
 said Tilskit, who was one of these visitors. " I like you, 
 Doct' Whit'n, and I think you good man. You better 
 go away from here and stay a long time, until the heart 
 of the Indian is good again. It is very black now — 
 very black. I think you better go to Walla Walla, or 
 down to Vancouver. Cayuses make very much bad 
 talk now, and old Tilskit very much afraid for you." 
 
 Spalding, who had charge of the mission at Lapwai, 
 came down to Waiilatpu to consult with Marcus Whit- 
 man concerning the serious outlook. The Nez Perces 
 were muttering and talking in much the same way as 
 the Cayuses. Spalding feared an uprising of the Nez 
 Perces. Measles had broken out in that tribe, and the 
 medicine men were declaring that the whites were the 
 cause of it. 
 
 It was on the occasion of this visit that Spalding and 
 Whitman spoke of sending medicines to various places 
 where Whitman had not been able to go ; and it was 
 this talk, no doubt, which the Indian boy heard, and 
 which, in an exaggerated form, flew as a wild report 
 among the Indians of Oregon. 
 
 Spalding took his departure the next day for Lapwai, 
 and Whitman went forth again, to do what he could to 
 
226 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 assist the distressed Indians in a near-by village. He 
 had begun to feel that he was in danger, but he was 
 not willing to desert what he considered his post of 
 duty. He took with him almost the only medicines 
 that remained, and instructed Mrs. Whitman to send 
 to Walla Walla for another supply. 
 
 As there was no one at Waiilatpu who seemed suffi- 
 ciently reliable to undertake this mission, Cora Carlton 
 volunteered to go herself. Though the distance was 
 forty miles, she was a courageous girl, and being an 
 accomplished rider, and having a good horse, she was 
 sure that she could ride there in one day and return in 
 another. It was a trip to try the strength of the hardi- 
 est man ; but the girl heroine undertook it. 
 
 The journey to Walla Walla was made without mis- 
 adventure. Pierre Pambrun was no longer the agent of 
 the Hudson Bay Company at that post, and no longer 
 did his daughter, Maria, ride out over the crisp bunch 
 grass, or Hsten to the song of the boatmen. 
 
 Nevertheless, there were kind hearts at Walla Walla, 
 and the agent and his wife listened with interest and 
 attention to Cora's story, and gave her shelter and 
 hospitality for the night. They were troubled, as John 
 McLoughlin had been long before, by the distresses of 
 the Indians and the danger of the whites. 
 
 Cora Carlton felt sufficiently rested to undertake the 
 
CORA CARLTON 227 
 
 return journey the next morning; so she set out with 
 the medicine which had been given her. Having ac- 
 compHshed the greater part of her trip without mishap, 
 she was filled with sudden dismay and fear when she 
 beheld a band of Indians ride into view in a hollow 
 below her and then disappear from sight. She would 
 not have been so frightened if they had come straight 
 on, but their evident attempt at concealment was not 
 reassuring. 
 
 Pulling her pony out of the trail, she began to ride in 
 a detour. Her pony was fast, and if she could pass 
 them she felt that he would be able to show them a 
 clean pair of heels in a race for the mission. But as she 
 was picking her way over some rough ground she came 
 face to face with two Indians, who rose up from behind 
 a rock and confronted her. One of them was Matpah. 
 
 He looked into her face with an evil leer and 
 caught her pony's bridle. For a moment Cora Carl- 
 ton felt as if she would faint and fall from the sad- 
 dle. Matpah and his companion were in war-paint. 
 Ordinarily he was attractive, as Indians go, but now 
 he looked fierce and horrible. 
 
 "You marry Matpah now!" he said, catching her 
 by the wrist. '' Matpah chief now ! Doct' Whit'n 
 dead. All dead at mission. Phil Curtis dead out 
 in hills." 
 
228 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 The news startled and terrified Cora Carlton. 
 Nevertheless, she tried to regain her courage, and 
 to tell this sneering young chief that she did not 
 believe his report. 
 
 '' Let me go ! " she begged. " I was always kind 
 to you down at the mission, and now you must let 
 me go. Mrs. Whitman will be waiting for me. And 
 there are Cayuses there whom I must help. I have 
 medicines here that they need." 
 
 The other Indians, who had been in hiding, were 
 galloping up, and she saw them surrounding her. 
 
 " Doct' Whit'n's medicine kill Indian," declared 
 Matpah, fiercely. " Bad spirits in medicine bottles. 
 They make Indian sick ; they make him die. But 
 Doct' Whit'n dead now ; Doct' Whit'n's wife dead. 
 You no go to the mission ! " 
 
 The mounted Indians surrounded her more closely. 
 She looked appealingly from one painted face to 
 another, but saw nothing to give her hope. 
 
 " It is not so ; it can't be so ! Doctor Whitman is 
 not dead ! You Cayuses would not kill so good a 
 man as Doctor Whitman ! " 
 
 "Doct' Whit'n dead!" repeated Matpah. "Now 
 you go with me." 
 
 He pointed toward the distant hills. 
 
 " Oh, Phil ! Phil ! " was her cry. 
 
CORA CARLTON 229 
 
 She did not believe that Phil Curtis was dead, and 
 she could not bring herself to beHeve in the death 
 of Marcus Whitman, though what she heard a little 
 later convinced her that this part of the story, at 
 least, was all too true. Proof was given, when a 
 number of women and girls were brought up by the 
 Indians, and she saw among them some of the white 
 girls from the mission. 
 
 "Yes, Doctor Whitman is dead," they told her. 
 "He was murdered by the Cayuses. Matpah was 
 one of the leaders, and Joe Lewis was another." 
 
 The shock, when she knew for a truth that the 
 brave missionary had fallen at his post of duty, 
 made her very brain reel; yet she felt that she her- 
 self had now a new duty to perform. Whatever 
 terrible thing the future had in store for her, she 
 could at least try to comfort these weeping women 
 and girls. If she could do no more, she could say 
 a few words that might cheer them and make their 
 burden less heavy. 
 
 Phil Curtis had not been at the mission, she knew; 
 and deep down in her heart was a hope that he had 
 escaped. 
 
 " Oh, Phil ! Phil ! " was her unuttered cry. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 MATPAH'S DEFIANCE 
 
 THAT cry of Cora Carlton seemed to reach 
 across the distance to Phil Curtis. Tom 
 McKay and the mountain men had informed him 
 that most of the women and children at the mission 
 had been carried away into captivity. This was a 
 terrible fate, he knew ; but it was better than death, 
 for it held out hope. 
 
 Among the things which Tom McKay had told 
 him, and which the mountaineers repeated, was that 
 news of the massacre had been carried to the legis- 
 lature, then in session at Oregon City, and that the 
 governor had issued a call for troops. The stern 
 border men were already assembling, and McKay and 
 his companions had been riding over the country for 
 the purpose of rallying others. 
 
 " It's too bad, lad, that it is the beginning of win- 
 ter," McKay had said. " But for that we could get 
 help from California. No one could carry the news 
 now over the Sierras." 
 
 230 
 
MATPAH'S DEFIANCE 231 
 
 Riflemen were gathering at Fort Walla Walla, when 
 Phil Curtis and Ben Allen, with the mountain men, 
 reached that place. That night John Curtis arrived, 
 bringing with him a number of the settlers of the 
 Walla Walla valley. Much wild war talk was in the 
 air. Other riflemen were coming, it was reported, and 
 soon there would be a sufficient force to give battle 
 to the united bands of the Cayuses and Nez Perces. 
 
 The impatience of Phil Curtis outran all the plans 
 of the others. His thoughts were of Cora Carlton 
 and those women and girls carried into captivity. So 
 he talked to some of the younger men. They did not 
 agree with him, that it was the part of wisdom for 
 a small force to push on in advance. They believed, 
 with John Curtis and others, that it would be better 
 to wait until a sufficient number of riflemen had massed 
 at Walla Walla. 
 
 ''I am going into the mountains again," said Phil, 
 announcing his intention to Ben Allen. " I'm not afraid 
 to go, because I am a Cayuse myself, by adoption. I 
 can't ask you to go with me, though I should Hke your 
 company." 
 
 Ben Allen looked at him in amazement. 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " he questioned. 
 
 ''I certainly do. A day may mean a great deal. 
 What I can do I don't know, but I feel that I can do 
 
232 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 something. I can rely on old Tilskit and on Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox, and there are other Cayuses who will help me. If 
 I can't do anything else, I can find out where the pris- 
 oners are, and go to them and save them from as much 
 insult and cruelty as possible." 
 
 If Ben Allen had been wiser in the ways of Indians 
 and had admired Phil Curtis less, he might have given a 
 different answer. As it was, he declared in his enthu- 
 siasm that if Phil could go again into the villages, he 
 could accompany him. 
 
 Nevertheless, Phil did not start out without consult- 
 ing his father. He explained the condition of things as 
 he saw it, and told him what he hoped to accomplish. 
 John Curtis hesitated. 
 
 " Lad, I admire your bravery, but I can't say that I 
 think any too much of your discretion. It may be safe 
 for you, though; so I will not say that you shan't go." 
 It was as much of a consent as Phil expected to get. 
 
 John Curtis was well known at Walla Walla ; hence 
 it was easy for him to secure for Phil and Ben two good 
 rifles, a plentiful supply of ammunition, and such food 
 as they could carry. He also obtained for them proper 
 accoutrements for their ponies, for they had ridden into 
 Walla Walla without saddles or bridles. 
 
 Thus fitted out, Phil and Ben rode out from the post 
 of Walla Walla at the break of day, and headed their 
 
MATPAH'S DEFIANCE 233 
 
 ponies toward the hills, where the snows were already 
 lying. 
 
 Phil's first objective point was the village of Tilskit. 
 When he reached it, he found to his deHght that Pio- 
 pio-mox-mox was there. The old chief was still in sore 
 sorrow over the death of Elijah. He looked away 
 when Phil spoke to him. 
 
 "My heart is not good toward the white man any 
 more," he declared sadly. " I have long been the friend 
 of the white man. I was the friend of Doct' Whit'n ; 
 but Doct' Whit'n is dead now. I did not kill him. I 
 did not know that he was to be killed. If I could have 
 done so, I would have saved him, for Doct' Whit'n was 
 a good man. Yet Elijah is dead, and the white man 
 killed him ! So my heart does not feel right toward the 
 white man." 
 
 Phil and Ben stopped in the lodge of Tilskit, where 
 they were greeted warmly by old Neekomy and by 
 Timuitti. Neekomy declared that she was glad to 
 behold her son, whom she had not seen for a long time. 
 Tilskit and Neekomy, in answer to Phil's questions, 
 told what they could of the captives. They had heard 
 of the raid on the mission, of the death of Marcus 
 Whitman, and the carrying away of the women and 
 girls. 
 
 " Some of them are beyond here, in the village of 
 
234 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Matpah, on the edge of the Blue Mountains," said old 
 Tilskit. ** Matpah is chief now, and you will do well if 
 you do not go there. It will not be safe." 
 
 Phil begged that Tilskit would accompany him, and 
 take with him a number of his most influential men. 
 He told Tilskit that if he and some of his chief men 
 would go to Matpah, and point out to him the folly of 
 his course, it might have a good effect on that rash 
 young warrior. 
 
 " I want you to go with me and tell Matpah that the 
 white men are arming at Walla Walla and by the Colum- 
 bia. They are gathering there by dozens and scores. 
 They are coming with their long-shooting guns. There 
 is anger in their hearts because of the thing that has 
 been done at Waiilatpu. Matpah will be punished for 
 that thing. If you will tell him so, he may believe you, 
 when he would not believe me." 
 
 He made this appeal also to old Pio-pio-mox-mox. 
 Both Tilskit and the Yellow Serpent shook their heads 
 sorrowfully. They could not, or they would not, inter- 
 fere with another chief of another band. They claimed 
 that they did not sympathize with Matpah, nor with any 
 of the chiefs who had allied themselves with him. Yet 
 they would not hearken to Phil's pleading. 
 
 Somewhat to Phil's surprise, Matpah himself ap- 
 peared in Tilskit's village before this interview had 
 
MATPAH'S DEFIANCE 235 
 
 ended. He was in war-paint and feathers, and was 
 accompanied by three members of his band. He had 
 come there for the purpose of drawdng Tilskit into the 
 war which the Cayuses now proposed to wage against 
 the white men. His eyes flashed with anger when he 
 saw Phil. 
 
 '' Boston spoke many big words down at the 
 Waiilatpu mission," he said, as he stood before Phil in 
 all the glory of his war toggery. " Now it is the turn 
 of Matpah ! The young Boston was a fool to come up 
 here. He has placed himself in the hands of the 
 Cayuses. Does he not know that many white men have 
 been killed, and that many prisoners have been taken ? " 
 
 The anger of Phil Curtis burst into a flame. 
 
 " I know that you are a scoundrel and a murderer," 
 he declared, as he stood unflinchingly before the 
 feathered and painted chief ; " and I know, too, that 
 you will live to see the day when you will regret what 
 you have done ! " 
 
 Matpah reached forward as if he w^ould smite Phil in 
 the face, but Tilskit interfered. 
 
 " He is my son ! " he said sternly. " Long ago he 
 saved the life of Timuitti, and because of that he has 
 become my son, in place of the son who was lost in the 
 big river. He is here in my lodge. You will not 
 strike him. He is the white Cayuse." 
 
236 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Ben Allen had sufficient discretion to remain silent 
 throughout this wordy encounter. 
 
 " Do you know that riflemen are gathering at 
 Walla Walla and all along the Columbia River ? " 
 said Phil, speaking directly to Matpah the words he 
 had wished Tilskit and Pio-pio-mox-mox to carry to 
 him. 
 
 "Pah!" sniffed the haughty young chief. "The 
 Cayuses and the Nez Perces are thick as the leaves of 
 the forest. What can the white men do ? Our medi- 
 cine men will make their guns harmless — their long- 
 shooting guns shall be Hke reeds by the river. The 
 medicine drums are booming even now. If your ears 
 were larger, you could hear them." 
 
 " Matpah," said Phil, his anger breaking out again, 
 "you have been among the white people enough to 
 know how foolish such ideas are. If you trust in the 
 power of the medicine men, and believe that the Indians 
 can win because they outnumber the whites, the time 
 will come when you will be sorry for it. You have 
 killed Marcus Whitman ! That cannot be undone ; but 
 you can send back those women and girls, and if you do 
 that the anger of the white men may not burn so hot 
 against you." 
 
 " Pah ! " said Matpah, spitting out his exclamation as 
 if his emotions choked him, " the Boston boy talks big ; 
 
MATPAH'S DEFIANCE 237 
 
 but if he thinks that Matpah and the Cayuses with him 
 are cowards, let him lead on the white men." 
 
 Nothing was to be gained by this angry discussion, as 
 Phil soon saw. It only increased the stubbornness of 
 the young chief. By and by Matpah went away, and 
 Phil observed him talking with some of the head men 
 of Tilskit's village. 
 
 "When he leaves the village, we will follow," he said 
 to Ben Allen. '' Just where his village is I don't know, 
 and these Indians don't know or will not tell me. That 
 is a thing we must find out by following him." 
 
 **I can see that we shall get ourselves into trouble, 
 and a whole lot of trouble," was the statement of Ben 
 Allen; "but I have come so far with you, and if you 
 will go on I will go too." 
 
 In the firm determination to move out of the village 
 after Matpah when he departed, Phil tried to keep an 
 eye on him so long as he remained. Yet, before he 
 knew it, Matpah had disappeared, and he had not seen 
 him go. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 
 
 AFTER the departure of Matpah, Phil had an 
 earnest consultation with old Tilskit. The chief 
 had been in a wavering mood, and his mental attitude 
 was still unsettled. His Cayuse sympathies were natu- 
 rally with his people. Yet he had liked Marcus Whit- 
 man, and could not approve of the massacre and the 
 carrying away of the women and girls into the hills. 
 He stated as much to Phil. Timuitti sat by during the 
 conversation, in which he now and then took a part. 
 
 " My son," said the old chief, before the talk ended, ad- 
 dressing Phil, " I do not think it was wise for you to come 
 again into the hills. It was very bad for you to bring 
 that boy, for he does not understand the ways of the 
 mountains nor the ways of the Indians. If you go on 
 with him, he will get you into trouble." 
 
 " But I must go on ! " Phil insisted. 
 
 *' It is bad, all bad," Tilskit declared, referring to the 
 general situation. *' I do not know what you can do. 
 The Cayuses are gathering about Matpah, and they will 
 
 238 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 239 
 
 fight But if you will go on, I think that my son 
 Timuitti should go with you ; but you must do nothing 
 rash." 
 
 When Phil acquainted Ben Allen with Tilskit's state- 
 ments, Ben declared that he was willing to return. 
 
 "You can follow our trail back until you meet the 
 mountain men," said Phil. " I think McKay is not more 
 than a day behind us. You can tell him where I have 
 gone, and hurry him on." 
 
 Old Tilskit approved of this. The Cayuse ponies, on 
 which Phil and Ben had made their escape, and which 
 they had ridden to Tilskit's village, were now exchanged 
 for others. Phil had contemplated making this exchange 
 when he left Walla Walla. Unpleasant consequences 
 might follow, he knew, if while riding one of these 
 ponies, he should fall into the hands of the Cayuses from 
 Stikine's village. Even though Stikine's people had 
 kept his pony and Ben's, they would undoubtedly accuse 
 him of horse stealing, and that was a serious thing. 
 
 At daylight Ben Allen departed from the village, 
 mounted on one of the ponies procured from Tilskit. 
 As soon as he was gone Phil took Timuitti and they 
 began a search for the trail which it was hoped Matpah 
 had made in leaving. They found nothing, for the 
 young warrior had been crafty. No one had seen him 
 go, so far as Phil could ascertain, nor could his pony 
 
240 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 tracks be discovered, though this last was not so strange 
 when it is remembered that many ponies were kept in 
 and about the village. However, Tilskit was able to 
 give some helpful information, and he pointed out what 
 he believed to be the direction Matpah had taken, and 
 his probable destination. 
 
 Timuitti seemed glad to be able to help his white 
 brother. The fright he had shown immediately after 
 the massacre had passed away. He had loved Marcus 
 Whitman as well, perhaps, as any Indian could love a 
 white man. He had been in Whitman's school, and was 
 a member of his church. The massacre had horrified 
 him, and thrown him into a fever of fear. Cora Carl- 
 ton, who was one of his teachers, he had liked very 
 much, and he could not say things sufficiently bitter 
 against Matpah. Yet Timuitti did not wholly approve 
 of Phil's present course, because he doubted its wisdom 
 and its success. 
 
 It must be confessed that Phil Curtis himself was not 
 quite sure what he should be able to accomplish. He 
 was simply driven on by a furious determination to do 
 something. Thoughts of what the women and children 
 might "be suffering were a keen stimulus. 
 
 When Phil and Timuitti had ridden two or three miles 
 in the cold, crisp air of the early morning, following the 
 general direction indicated by old Tilskit, they came 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 241 
 
 upon the trail of a rather large band of Indians. There 
 were many indications to show that these were Cayuses, 
 and that they had stopped at that point for the purpose 
 of a conference or consultation. 
 
 "Matpah meet 'em here," said Timuitti, voicing an 
 opinion which Phil had already formed. " They come 
 from way off there — see ! He come from the village ; 
 here they meet. Now they go on together." 
 
 This broad trail of many Indians Phil and Timuitti 
 followed carefully, watching lest they should run into an 
 ambush. It seemed very likely that Matpah would fear 
 pursuit ; and in that case he might try to set a trap for 
 his pursuers. Twice during the forenoon smaller trails 
 were seen to join this larger one. 
 
 " The Cayuses are coming together," said Phil. 
 " They are gathering a large force at some point." 
 
 *' There be big fight by and by," was the opinion of 
 Timuitti. 
 
 Following the trail patiently and cautiously through- 
 out the forenoon they observed other evidences that the 
 Cayuses were concentrating ; and just before nightfall 
 Phil discovered, from the top of a hill to which he 
 climbed, a considerable village in the valley below. As 
 he went back to Timuitti he hoped that Matpah and the 
 prisoners were in that village. 
 
 Up to this time Phil had been as cool as a veteran. 
 
242 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Now he was undeniably nervous. He did not know 
 what to do, nor what he could do. How could he 
 aid the women and children, even if they were in the 
 village ? 
 
 " The first thing to find out, Timuitti, is if I am right. 
 To do that I shall have to go into the village to-night." 
 
 Timuitti looked at him with shining eyes. 
 
 " I can crawl in, if you stay with the ponies," he 
 suggested. 
 
 The thought of a task like that stirred the pulses of 
 the Indian boy. Of such work he had often dreamed. 
 His earliest recollections were mingled with fancies 
 of the heroic things he should do in warfare against 
 enemies. He had often planned how he would creep 
 like a lizard upon some foe ; how he would slip into 
 the lodges of some tribe he would despoil ; and even 
 though the village which Phil had seen belonged to 
 members of his own tribe, the Indian instinct for sur- 
 prise — which has played so great a part in Indian 
 warfare — moved within him, and sent the blood in hot 
 waves through his veins. 
 
 " You could do it all right, Timuitti ; I haven't a 
 doubt of that," said Phil. 
 
 Timuitti's face showed his disappointment. He saw 
 that Phil intended to go himself. 
 
 "Why am I not to go ? " he questioned. 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 243 
 
 Phil did not wish to say he feared to trust the dis- 
 cretion of his Indian brother. 
 
 ** I think it is better that I should go, Timuitti. I 
 want to see just where the women and children are ; 
 how everything is, in fact. When I come back, I can 
 tell you." 
 
 Phil knew it would not be safe to make his attempt 
 until a rather late hour, so he and Timuitti concealed 
 themselves and their ponies as well as they could, and 
 lay in waiting. They had not made a fire since leaving 
 Tilskit's village, and they knew they could not make 
 one now. Therefore, they ate the cold meat they had 
 brought with them, and forced themselves to be content 
 with that. 
 
 The moon was rising when Phil Curtis began his 
 preparations. 
 
 "You must turn me into a Cayuse," he said to Timu- 
 itti. '* I shall want those feathers." 
 
 When leaving the village Timuitti had set forth in 
 all the glory of Indian war gear. It would have been 
 beneath his pride to go otherwise. Now, at Phil's bid- 
 ding, he carefully set his long head feathers in Phil's 
 hair. When this had been done Phil took from behind 
 his saddle an old robe and drew it about his shoulders. 
 
 *' It will do," he declared. 
 
 Then he slipped away in the direction of the village. 
 
244 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 The silence in which it was wrapped had already 
 been noted and commented on by himself and Timu- 
 itti. If this were a gathering of warriors who expected 
 soon to meet the whites in battle array, drums would 
 be sounding ; but not a drum boomed, and the only 
 thing he heard, as he drew near, was the talk of women 
 and children. 
 
 Circling the village until he came to the small stream 
 that ran through it, he crept into the shelter of the 
 fantastic shadows cast by the lodges. He soon dis- 
 covered that very few warriors were in the village, 
 though there were many women and children. 
 
 " The prisoners are not here," was his conclusion, 
 and he felt a sinking of the heart. 
 
 He was not willing to trust to this belief, however, 
 and he continued his investigation. Once, when he 
 walked from the shadow of one lodge to another, he 
 was accosted in a sharp tone by an old woman who 
 stood in an entrance. Phil answered in the Cayuse 
 tongue, hoping to allay her suspicions. 
 
 "Who are you .-^ " she persisted. "And where are 
 you going ?'' 
 
 " Must a warrior answer a squaw, just because it 
 pleases her to ask a question.-^" was the reply, given in 
 a tone of anger. " I am seeking Matpah." 
 
 She came nearer and stared at him. 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 245 
 
 " Where have you been — asleep ? Matpah is not 
 here!" 
 
 "Yes, I have been asleep. He was here! " 
 
 " He has gone," said the woman. 
 
 ** Where has he gone ? " 
 
 *' I cannot tell you. His trail lies over there. Those 
 who came with him went with him. You were a fool 
 not to know that ! " 
 
 Phil Curtis was moving on. He did not wish to con- 
 tinue the conversation, or have the old hag come closer 
 to him. Discovery would have been the ultimate result, 
 and that would have been troublesome. 
 
 '' I can get out of here all right, even if they do dis- 
 cover that I am not an Indian," was his thought; but 
 he was not ready to get out. 
 
 He had feared to ask the squaw about the women and 
 children who had been taken into the hills as prisoners. 
 That would have aroused her suspicions. Therefore, 
 he continued his search until he had circled the entire 
 village. The prisoners were not there; that was cer- 
 tain ; and as soon as he was sure of it he slipped out of 
 the village as quietly as he had entered, and hurried off 
 to join Timuitti. 
 
 He found the Indian lad in a state of much excite- 
 ment. 
 
 ** White men are coming! " was his announcement. 
 
246 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " How do you know, Timuitti ? " 
 
 " I lie on the ground while you were gone ; a good 
 while I lie on the ground. Then I heard a tramp of 
 horses away off there, and I heard the jingle of a bridle, 
 and then talk in the voices of white men. It was all 
 very low ; and if I had not lain on the ground, I could 
 not have heard it. Yet I know." 
 
 Phil Curtis dropped to the ground instantly, and lay 
 with his ear pressed to the earth. At first he heard 
 nothing. Then there was borne to him, as it were 
 through the solid earth, a low '* thud, thud," as of horses* 
 hoofs striking. By and by he heard voices of white men 
 and the clink of a gun or bridle. 
 
 "You are right, Timuitti," he said, leaping to his feet. 
 " The white men are coming ! Get your pony, and we 
 will meet them." . 
 
 He was now as much excited as Timuitti. He had 
 not expected the party to arrive so soon. The ponies 
 were brought up in haste, and Phil and Timuitti set off 
 in the direction from which the sounds had seemed to 
 come. When they had travelled some distance, they 
 were brought to a sharp halt. 
 
 "Who goes there } " was the question they heard, with 
 the cUck of a rifle lock. 
 
 " Friends," said Phil. " Whose party is this ? " 
 
 " Tom McKay's," was the answer. " Who are you ? " 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 247 
 
 " Let me see McKay at once. I am Phil Curtis, and 
 this is Timuitti with me." 
 
 "We knew you were not far ahead, lad," said McKay, 
 when Phil met him. - It's only because of what you 
 did that we have come on so fast. I mean the word 
 you left for us at Tilskit's village, and the word that 
 Ben brought to us. After we struck the big trail we 
 came on without trouble. What's ahead, lad; what's 
 in the wind ? " 
 
 Before Phil could answer, Ben Allen pushed forward. 
 'Tm here, you see," he said, ''even though you did 
 send me back." 
 
 Phil directed his answer to Tom McKay. 
 
 " There's an Indian village on the other side of that 
 hill." 
 
 ''Ay, lad, we knew that. I sighted it myself from 
 the top of the peak yonder before sunset. If we can 
 get near enough without being discovered, we intend to 
 strike it just before daylight." 
 
 " I have been in that village," said Phil. 
 
 Then he began to tell McKay what he had seen and 
 heard, as the men composing the command crowded 
 round him in the darkness. He could see but few of 
 them, and even those he could distinguish imperfectly ; 
 yet he heard now the voices of his father and of old 
 Tilskit. 
 
248 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Have you found where the women are ? " John 
 Curtis asked, stepping forward. 
 
 Phil could only tell his father that the women and 
 children were not there. Then he related in detail how 
 he had crept into the village, and what he had there seen 
 and heard. 
 
 *' It is good for me, I think, to go to that village," 
 said Tilskit. '' Many of the people there will know me. 
 I will learn what has become of the prisoners." 
 
 Timuitti had been overjoyed to see his father. The 
 feehngs of Phil Curtis were those of surprise mingled 
 with delight. He thought he understood why old Til- 
 skit had come on with this party of Tom McKay's. The 
 chief was anxious for the safety of his adopted son, the 
 white Cayuse. 
 
 The party under McKay, Phil now learned, was but a 
 small body of men, that had detached itself from the 
 main force long before Tilskit's village was reached, and 
 had pushed on with great rapidity. 
 
 Tom McKay had intended to approach as near as he 
 could to the Indian village, and then to charge it in the 
 wild border fashion. This his men would have done 
 if they had not been stopped by Phil and Timuitti. It 
 would have been a sad mistake, for the warriors were 
 gone, and only old men, women, and children remained 
 behind. Some of these would have been slain without 
 
PHIL'S COURAGEOUS WORK 249 
 
 doubt, and the result would have been to mcrease the 
 bitterness of the Indians against the whites. 
 
 After a talk the mountain men under McKay decided 
 to remain where they were for the remainder of the 
 night and to determine their future action somewhat 
 upon the report which old Tilskit should bring on his 
 return. 
 
 Tilskit came back within an hour. He had been 
 in the village, and had talked with a number of the 
 Indians there. Thinking it was unwise to tell them 
 that a body of mountain men was near at hand, armed 
 and threatening revenge for the capture of the pris- 
 oners and the massacre at the Waiilatpu mission, he 
 had merely claimed that he was passing near, and see- 
 ing the village had stopped to make some inquiries 
 concerning certain chiefs whom he named. One of 
 these chiefs was Matpah. 
 
 By his adroitness, and also because old Tilskit was 
 not suspected of having designs against any Cayuses, 
 he was able to secure a much greater amount of in- 
 formation than Phil Curtis had done. He found out 
 the location of a village in which some of the prisoners 
 were held, and also that Matpah and those with him 
 were supposed to have gone on to that point, stopping 
 only in this village for a short time. 
 
 He was told also that the Cayuses and the Nez 
 
250 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Perces were assembling in large numbers. Most of 
 the chief men and warriors had declared, or were 
 declaring, in favor of a war of extermination against 
 the whites. They had come to believe with Dorion and 
 the other malcontents, that there was no safety for any 
 Indian of Oregon if the white settlers were allowed to 
 come into the country and remain. Therefore, to the 
 Indian mind, the only thing to do was to kill the white 
 people. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 THE CHIEF FACTOR'S MESSAGE 
 
 TOM McKAY'S men broke camp while the 
 stars were yet shining, swung in a big circle 
 round the village, and by the time the sun rose, were 
 well on their way in the direction v^hich Tilskit pointed 
 out. They pursued hard and fast on the heels of 
 Matpah and his Indians, and that afternoon came in 
 sight of what was undoubtedly the village in which 
 some at least of the prisoners were held. Here were 
 many lodges and ponies, and warriors in considerable 
 numbers. 
 
 When this village was discovered Tom McKay 
 called a halt, and an earnest consultation followed. He 
 was in favor of peaceable measures, if these could be 
 used. 
 
 " I will go forward into the village myself," he said, 
 ''taking with me Tilskit and two or three others. I 
 think our young friend, Phil Curtis, would be a good 
 one to accompany us, for the Cayuses think well of 
 
 2^1 
 
252 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 him. If we should make an attack, some of the cap- 
 tives would be killed." 
 
 " Ay, but be ready for an attack," said John Curtis, 
 stoutly. " We will be ready for fighting, if fighting is 
 to be." 
 
 John Curtis remained behind with the small body of 
 mountain men and held them in readiness for instant 
 action, whether that action should take the form of a 
 defence against an attack, or should be an assault to 
 rescue McKay and those who had gone on in advance. 
 
 Phil Curtis was not pleased on entering the village 
 to discover old Waskema there. The whites had no 
 more active and malignant enemy than this ubiquitous 
 old squaw. Wherever there was discontent, she was 
 present to increase it. She took fierce delight in fan- 
 ning the fires of hate. Now she was here, when Phil 
 had thought her far away in the village of Stikine. 
 
 The entrance of Tom McKay and his companions 
 into the village threw her into a fury. As the thrill of 
 excitement occasioned by their appearance ran from 
 lodge to lodge, and the Indians began to gather, she 
 drew herself up in front of Tom McKay and Phil 
 Curtis, and pointing her finger at Phil began to 
 denounce him bitterly. 
 
 '* He calls himself the white Cayuse, and says that 
 he loves the Indians ; yet he it was that brought the 
 
THE CHIEF FACTOR'S MESSAGE 253 
 
 bottled spirits into the village of Stikine, causing the 
 people to die. He it was that threw Taulicah into a 
 deep sleep when he stood guard at the lodge entrance, 
 — a sleep like unto death, — which would have been 
 death but for the power of the medicine man, Umtippi; 
 and now he comes here to cast his spells upon the 
 Cayuses of this village." 
 
 The bent form of the old hag quivered as she shook 
 her finger in Phil's face and delivered her scathing 
 denunciations. 
 
 Nevertheless, Tom McKay stood boldly before the 
 old woman and the medicine men who had come up to 
 support her by their presence. 
 
 " It's a lie ! " he said, and he spoke in hot wrath. 
 ** But I have not come here to bandy words with 
 Waskema or any one else." 
 
 Tom McKay was a commanding figure, and his keen 
 eyes seemed to flash fire as he looked round on the 
 encircling Cayuses. 
 
 " I do not say that any one here has been guilty, but 
 some one, — and they were Cayuses, — led on by that 
 devil, Joe Lewis, killed Doctor Whitman and his wife 
 and a great many other people, and have carried away 
 many prisoners. Where those prisoners are we do 
 not know, but we beUeve that some of them are right 
 here." 
 
254 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 There were cries of denial and derision. 
 
 " Go ! " said Waskema, pounding with her crooked 
 stick. "The Cayuses know you, Tom McKay, and 
 they do not want you! There are no prisoners here! " 
 
 " Hear ye ! " cried McKay, speaking with unbend- 
 ing sternness. "Behind me, back there," — he waved 
 a hand in the direction of the force he had left, — " are 
 mountain men. They have not come here to fight. 
 I have not come here to fight ; I came to talk with you, 
 and talk with you I will. I will have my say. Ay, I 
 will tell you to your teeth just what I think. Ye are 
 fools, ye Cayuses ! We are few here ; but away on the 
 Walla Walla, and on the Columbia, are many white 
 men. Do you think they will sit quietly in their warm 
 lodges, while the wind blows cold here in the hills and 
 the snow threatens, if you hold as prisoners those who 
 have been carried away by you ? I tell you, they will 
 not!" 
 
 " Go ! " repeated old Waskema. '* Dogs of white 
 men, go; we do not want you!" 
 
 "Ay, you shall listen to me!" Tom McKay thun- 
 dered. " I have known you a long time, Waskema. 
 I have been in these mountains through many winters, 
 and I have seen the grass starting green many springs 
 in the valleys of Oregon. I know you, and I do not 
 fear you ; but I want to say to you this : I have been 
 
THE CHIEF FACTOR'S MESSAGE 255 
 
 sent here by Peter Skeen Ogden, the Hudson Bay 
 chief factor. He gives out this word to all the chiefs 
 of the Cayuses, and of the Nez Perces, and of all other 
 tribes which are now threatening to raise their hands 
 against the white men. He says to you : * You have 
 prisoners taken from the Waiilatpu mission and other 
 places. Come to me at Walla Walla, and I will talk 
 with you. Come to me without delay.' That is the 
 message which he has commanded me to deliver." 
 
 *' What then .? " demanded an old chief. " What if 
 we go to Walla Walla ? ^ He will throw us into the 
 prison there." 
 
 '*Ye know Peter Skeen Ogden," said Tom McKay. 
 " For twenty-five years ye have known him. He is a 
 man of his word. He calls you to meet him at Walla 
 Walla. He will hold back the white men who are 
 gathering with long-shooting guns in their hands. He 
 will tell them to stay in their warm houses ; but you 
 must come to Walla Walla. If you do not come, he 
 cannot hold back the Americans, for they are very 
 angry, and their hearts are already black, because of 
 this thing. Will you come to Walla Walla, and meet 
 him .? " 
 
 The fiery demeanor of old Tom McKay was not 
 without its effect, even on Waskema. The listening 
 chiefs knew when he delivered that message from Ogden 
 
256 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 it meant something. The factor was a man of his 
 word. For many years he had bought their furs ; he 
 had sold them goods; he had counselled with them. 
 For many years he had gone to and fro, up and 
 down the Columbia, and through the mountains of 
 Oregon. They knew him, they respected him, and 
 they feared him. Therefore, this message delivered by 
 Tom McKay was of stern import. 
 
 *' We will consider this thing," said one of the chiefs. 
 " When is it that the chief factor wishes us to meet him 
 at Walla Walla .? " 
 
 " At once," McKay answered. " Send word to all 
 the chiefs that he will meet them at Walla Walla at 
 once ; and tell them that it is concerning this thing 
 which has been done to the people of the mission at 
 Waiilatpu, and the prisoners which the Cayuses and 
 the Nez Perces now hold. Tell them that if they come, 
 Ogden will hold back the Americans; but if they do 
 not come, he cannot hold them back." 
 
 For a long time Tom McKay talked to the Indians of 
 that village. Phil Curtis sat silent beside him, as did the 
 others who accompanied him. McKay was spokesman, 
 and he was able to address the Indians with authority. 
 
 The chiefs and head men conferred together. 
 
 ''We will send out the word you wish," they an- 
 swered finally. '' We ourselves will go to Walla Walla, 
 
THE CHIEF FACTOR'S MESSAGE 257 
 
 and we will try to get the other chiefs to go. We 
 know that Ogden is our friend." 
 
 Tom McKay knew how far it was safe to attempt to 
 go in his dealings with these Indians. If they would go 
 to Walla Walla, he believed that Ogden would be able 
 to effect the release of the captives. On the other hand, 
 if the settlers who were rallying at the trading post and 
 along the Columbia should march to attack the Ca- 
 yuses, the death of the prisoners would be the result. 
 
 As McKay with his companions departed from the 
 village, they moved away with the utmost boldness, 
 scorning fear or danger, for they knew that an appear- 
 ance of great courage impresses the Indian mind. 
 Nevertheless, as soon as McKay reached the force 
 which had been left behind, he ordered an immediate 
 and rapid retreat. He did not want to attack these 
 Indians, nor to be attacked by them. The shedding 
 of blood on either side would be fatal to his hopes. 
 His only desire now was to secure the release of the 
 prisoners. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 
 
 THE words of Tom McKay in that village bore 
 fruit. The Indian chiefs and leading men be- 
 gan to come together at Walla Walla. The fiery words 
 of Matpah and the rasping denunciations of old Was- 
 kema could not keep them from assembling to talk 
 with their old friend, the famous fur trader. 
 
 Phil Curtis watched their faces as they came riding 
 in from the villages on their ponies. Old Tilskit was 
 there, with his heart warm for the white men, and espe- 
 cially for his white son, Phil Curtis. Pio-pio-mox-mox 
 came also. Phil was touched when he saw him, for 
 the friendly chief looked old and bent since the death 
 of his son. Black-faced Tiloukaikt came, with treachery 
 in his heart ; and Five Crows appeared also. Nearly 
 all the chiefs and leading men were there ; but Matpah 
 stayed away, nursing his wrath in the heart of the hills. 
 
 The weather had turned cold, for winter had now set 
 in fully, and snow began to fly as the Indians assembled. 
 They talked much, gathering round the great fire which 
 
 258 
 
THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 259 
 
 blazed and crackled on the hearth. Peter Skeen Ogden, 
 now the chief factor of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, 
 passed from one to another with kind words, shaking 
 each by the hand, but said little on the subject that was 
 uppermost in the thought of all. The time had not 
 come for formal speech. 
 
 When it seemed that all the chiefs and head men who 
 intended to come were there, Ogden had a large quantity 
 of presents brought out. Blankets, guns and ammuni- 
 tion, hatchets, beads, looking-glasses, things dear to the 
 Indian heart, were spread out on the floor, that the 
 redmen might see and covet them. How the eyes of 
 the chiefs and head men glistened ! 
 
 " I have sent for you, and I have come a long way 
 myself from Vancouver, that \\q might talk together as 
 brothers," said Ogden. " I regret that all the chiefs I 
 asked for are not here, two being absent. I shall expect 
 you to report my words to them and to your young men 
 on your return to your villages." 
 
 The Indians had ceased to look at the presents and 
 looked now at the speaker. 
 
 *' It is thirty years since I first came among you, and 
 during that long period no blood has been spilt until the 
 inhuman massacre at Waiilatpu. You know me as a 
 trader of a different nation from the Americans. I have 
 long bought your furs, and have supplied you with am- 
 
26o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 munition ; but I did not give you ammunition with which 
 to kill the Americans. They are of the same color as 
 the Hudson Bay men, they speak the same language, 
 and are children of the same God. Our hearts bleed 
 when we know that you have used them so cruelly. I 
 speak to you as a brother. I hope that none of the 
 chiefs here had a part in that terrible thing. Some of 
 you have said to me that your young men did it ; but is 
 it not your duty to hold your young men in check ? Why 
 are you chiefs, if you have no control over them .? " 
 
 He turned with flashing eyes to the younger ones 
 present. 
 
 " You young men, I know you pride yourselves on 
 your bravery, and think that no one can match you ; but 
 let me tell you that you must not deceive yourselves. 
 If you get the Americans to begin fighting, you will 
 repent it, and war will not end until every one of you is 
 cut off from the face of the earth. You have listened 
 to lying words. It has been told to you that your friends 
 and relatives have died through sickness produced by 
 spells which some Americans cast on them. It is said 
 they were poisoned. Let me tell you, it was not Doctor 
 Whitman who poisoned them ; but it was God who com- 
 manded that they should die. If we fall sick, and it is 
 God's wish that we die, we die ; but Doctor Whitman had 
 nothing to do with that." 
 
THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 261 
 
 Ogden was speaking with great earnestness, and the 
 Indians were Listening to him with open ears. 
 
 **I want to say to you that the Hudson Bay men can 
 only advise you. I am here merely to advise you. We 
 have nothing to do with this matter, so I can promise 
 you nothing ; but I will use my influence to keep the 
 Americans from attacking you in your villages. As for 
 myself and the Hudson Bay Company, we must remain 
 neutral. I will do all I can to prevent war ; but if you 
 would help me to prevent it, you must deliver up to me 
 all the prisoners which are now held among you. I will 
 pay you for them when they are delivered to me here, 
 and I do not want it said among you afterward that I 
 deceived you. Bring me the prisoners, and I will pay for 
 them, and I will hold back the anger of the Americans." 
 
 For a little while after Ogden ceased speaking the 
 Indians were silent. Then Tauitau arose to reply. 
 
 '* You must not think too harshly of us," he urged, 
 in a tone of apology. *' Our young men are strong- 
 headed. The good chiefs that we had are laid in the 
 dust. Foolishness has crept into the hearts of many of 
 our head men. No talk of war with the whites was ever 
 heard until now. As for myself, I am willing to give 
 up any prisoners that are held among my people." 
 
 Tiloukaikt, the black-faced chief, made answer in 
 much the same strain. 
 
262 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 The sight of those presents lying on the floor of the 
 fort helped to influence the chiefs and head men to 
 consider the surrender of the prisoners ; and no doubt 
 the thought of the vengeance of the Americans, who 
 had been roused by the death of Marcus Whitman and 
 so many others, was also a strong determining factor. 
 All the chiefs present promised that they would sur- 
 render the prisoners held in their villages. Then they 
 took their presents, with many indications of childish 
 joy, and, mounting their ponies, they rode away. 
 
 Before Tilskit departed Phil Curtis had a talk with 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, I will seek out Matpah," said the chief. *' That 
 was in my mind. I will ride straight to his village." 
 
 Tilskit was as good as his word. 
 
 It was Christmas Eve when he rode away through the 
 newly fallen snow, and it was Christmas night when he 
 stood talking with Matpah before the lodge in which 
 Cora Carlton was held as a prisoner. She heard him 
 speak her name before the lodge door. 
 
 What she had suffered during her captivity, of terror, 
 of foreboding, of actual distress from the long journey 
 and the increasing cold, no one can know. She had 
 been terrified, too, by Waskema and by other fiendish 
 old women of the Cayuse tribe, who had seemed to her 
 excited imagination determined to put her to instant 
 
THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 263 
 
 death. But she had not suffered more than other 
 prisoners. 
 
 When she heard her name on the Ups of an Indian, 
 and that name pronounced in kindness, she leaped up 
 with eager trembUng from the roll of skins which was 
 her cot. 
 
 Matpah had been kind to her, more so than she 
 had expected from his manner at the time of her cap- 
 ture. He had seemed to recall something of those 
 civilized touches given to the Indians at the Waiilatpu 
 mission. He apparently recognized that this white 
 girl was not accustomed to the brutal treatment which 
 squaws accept without murmuring. 
 
 Cora Carlton had scarcely risen to her feet when 
 Matpah came into the lodge, accompanied now^ by Til- 
 skit. The latter had delivered the message sent out by 
 Peter Ogden, and Matpah's adherents were wavering. 
 Even the fierce medicine men, now that their passions 
 had had time to cool, appeared to be afraid of the anger 
 of the Americans. Matpah had discovered that the 
 older chiefs and head men would not stand by him in 
 a fight against the whites. 
 
 Old Tilskit looked at the white girl as if to assure 
 himself that she was the one he sought ; then he went 
 outside. 
 
 " Ogden has sent for you," Matpah announced; "but 
 
264 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Matpah wants you to remain. If you will stay, all 
 these horses, all these cattle on the hills and in the 
 meadows, and all the skins that I have, shall be yours. 
 All these other women shall be your slaves." 
 
 Cora Carlton looked at the passionate young Indian 
 with his flushed cheeks and blazing eyes. 
 
 *' I cannot stay," she declared. " I should die here — 
 I am dying here ! " 
 
 Outside, at the lodge door, the ponies of Tilskit 
 stamped impatiently. Tilskit's voice was also heard. 
 He had come for the prisoner, he said, at the command 
 of Peter Skeen Ogden. He had a long distance to go. 
 Plainly, he was not inclined to delay. 
 
 Cora Carlton took a step toward the lodge door. For 
 an instant it seemed that Matpah would detain her by 
 force. He stood in hesitation. 
 
 " I will go with you to the lodges of the white 
 people," he said. 
 
 '' No," she answered ; and she passed him swiftly. 
 
 Outside was old Tilskit, and with him she saw Tim- 
 uitti, whom she knew well. Both smiled upon her. 
 The cold air outside was Hke the tonic of wine. Lib- 
 erty was before her, beyond those hills. She glanced 
 back in terror, almost fearing that Matpah would 
 appear and drag her back into the lodge. 
 
 Timuitti had slipped to the ground and was pointing 
 
THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 265 
 
 to one of the ponies, on which was a woman's saddle, 
 brought from Walla Walla. Tilskit also slid down, and 
 between them they assisted her to mount to the back of 
 the restive animal. Many Indians stood about, but all 
 at respectful distance, except Matpah, who had come to 
 the door of his lodge, and was looking out at her mourn- 
 fully and even angrily. 
 
 " You will go ? " he said. "Have I not treated you 
 well .? " 
 
 She did not stop to reply. Wise old Tilskit had the 
 ponies already in motion. He understood the change- 
 able nature of such a man as Matpah. It might please 
 the young chief to alter his determination and bid defi- 
 ance to Peter Skeen Ogden and the Americans. In 
 that case, he would detain the girl, and Tilskit's mission 
 would be a failure. 
 
 At the edge of the village Tilskit set the ponies at a 
 trot ; and thus the three rode away through the newly 
 fallen snow, with the silvery frost crystals ghstening in 
 the air — rode away to Walla Walla and to freedom again. 
 
 From far and near the prisoners were brought. Rev. 
 Gushing Eels, one of the missionaries, was conducted 
 from a distant village of the Nez Perces. Matpah 
 sullenly gave up all the women and children he had 
 captured. 
 
 It was the morning of New Year's Day, in the year 
 
266 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 1848, before all the prisoners arrived at Walla Walla. 
 The last to come were the Spaldings, who were escorted 
 from Lapwai by a crowd of Nez Perces, through the 
 region occupied by the Cayuses. 
 
 As old Tilskit had feared, Matpah repented of his 
 action before a day had gone by. Now, as Eels came 
 in with his escort of Nez Perces, Indian horsemen were 
 seen among the hills by the river. The riders were in 
 war feathers. 
 
 "The Cayuses are gathering," said Ogden. ''Cast 
 off the boats ! " 
 
 A fleet of boats was in the river, ready for a descent 
 to Fort Vancouver. They had been held in readiness, 
 because Ogden feared the changeable disposition of the 
 Cayuses. Other Indian horsemen were seen riding in 
 and out among the hills, and still others were observed 
 coming down the river. 
 
 " Cast off the boats ! " Ogden commanded. 
 
 Then out from the fort were brought the women and 
 children who had been held as prisoners, and ransomed 
 by the factor. They were bundled hastily into the 
 boats. The men were in their places, with uplifted 
 oars. 
 
 " Dip ! " said Ogden. " Row ! " 
 
 He was in the leading boat and steered it for the 
 other shore. 
 
THE CONFERENCE AND ITS RESULT 267 
 
 " Row ! " he commanded his Canadian boatmen. 
 
 The Cayuses galloped out of the hills, swinging their 
 rifles and their bows and arrows. Their yells lifted in 
 demoniacal fury. The women and children in the boats 
 became frightened. A few of them stood up. 
 
 " Sing," said Ogden to the boatmen, and they raised 
 their voices in the old boating song : — 
 
 *' Malbrouck has gone a-fighting, 
 Miro7itoH^ inirontoii, miroiitaine ! " 
 
 The yelling Cayuses lashed their ponies with the 
 leather thongs which swung from their wrists. They 
 drove their heels into the flanks of the foaming beasts, 
 and jerked savagely on the lacerating horse-hair bits. 
 Arrows fluttered out across the water like hissing ser- 
 pents, and a few guns spanged and flamed. 
 
 But this spasm of wrath w^as futile. The boatmen 
 continued to sing. The boats passed down the river, 
 swept on by the oars and the swift current. Matpah 
 and the chiefs who had rallied round him had experi- 
 enced a change of heart too late. Cora Carlton and 
 the other prisoners were now safe beyond their reach. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 THE CAYUSE WAR 
 
 RETREATING in the boats down the Columbia, 
 the prisoners and their escort met the main 
 body of riflemen at the Dalles. Phil Curtis, and the 
 men who had been with Tom McKay, stopped here, 
 while Peter Skeen Ogden and the boatmen proceeded 
 down the river to Fort Vancouver. 
 
 People everywhere were eager to open their houses 
 to the rescued prisoners. Governor Abernethy exerted 
 himself to make them comfortable. McLoughlin, who 
 had not been with the Hudson Bay Company for two 
 years, took some of them into his house. Others were 
 quartered by Ogden, and by James Douglas. All of 
 the captives had suffered severely, and some of them 
 were nervous wrecks. 
 
 Five hundred men had gathered at the Dalles, with 
 Colonel Guilham in command of the little army. 
 Among its chief supporters were stanch old Tom 
 McKay and John Curtis, while not among the least to 
 be reckoned were Phil Curtis and Ben Allen. 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 269 
 
 Word came down the river that the Cayuses were 
 massing for a descent of the stream, and that a general 
 uprising against all the settlers of Oregon was contem- 
 plated. Scouts sent out reported that Indians had 
 been seen in the hills and crouching in the tall grass 
 by the river side. Mysterious smoke signals were be- 
 held wavering against the sky. At night the tops of 
 the hills flamed with Indian signal fires. 
 
 ''Ay, lad, if they come, we will give them a hot 
 welcome ! " said Tom McKay to Phil Curtis. '' They 
 will learn that the riflemen of Oregon can fight." 
 
 McKay was everywhere, assisting GuilHam in organ- 
 izing the little army and in preparing to give the 
 Indians a warm reception. The only piece of artillery 
 to be had was a rusty nine-pounder. This McKay's 
 men dragged round the cascades through a driving 
 snowstorm. They planted it on top of their fortifica- 
 tion, with its black muzzle pointed up the river. 
 
 Rumors of approaching Indians filled the air. 
 Frightened settlers came in, reporting that they had 
 beheld feathered head-dresses fluttering in the marsh 
 grass, and that painted faces had looked in at their 
 cabin doors. Now and then Cayuses were seen gallop- 
 ing through the hills. Then Indian boats came in 
 sight, swinging down the stream. 
 
 Guilliam made an address to his men, and Tom 
 
2 70 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 McKay cheered them on. The rifles of the moun- 
 taineers and the voyageurs had been cleaned until the 
 spiral grooves glittered. Bullets had been run and 
 patching prepared. The old nine-pounder was loaded 
 and in readiness, with a special detail of men to 
 work it. 
 
 The Cayuses threw off all disguise and came out 
 boldly on the hills and along the river. They had 
 painted their horses as well as themselves. Feathers 
 floated from pony manes and Indian head-dresses. 
 Matpah was there and Five Crows. All the disap- 
 pointed chiefs of the Cayuses and the Nez Percys 
 were in that assembly of warlike red men. The 
 Indian squaws were camped on all the hills looking 
 down on the little fort at the Dalles, fully expecting 
 to witness the overwhelming defeat of the hated 
 Bostons. Indian yells rose like the yelps of coyotes 
 or the howling of wolves. 
 
 ''Bah!" shrieked one of the medicine men, pranc- 
 ing out defiantly on his painted pony and waving his 
 medicine bag. " I defy the Bostons ! I am a great 
 medicine ! The rifles of the Boston men cannot harm 
 me!" 
 
 Many Indians pressed forward behind him, while 
 along the river wild yells arose. 
 
 A tall rifleman within the fort swung up his glitter- 
 
I DEFY THE BOSTONS 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 271 
 
 ing rifle. It leaped to his cheek, and his keen eye 
 glanced along the barrel. 
 
 ''You're a great medicine !" he howled to the medi- 
 cine man. " The rifles of the white men cannot hurt 
 you ! Then, take that ! " 
 
 His rifle cracked, and other rifles spanged in unison 
 with it. The medicine man dropped like a lump of 
 lead from the back of his painted pony. Five Crows, 
 who had been pressing forward close behind him, fell 
 with a broken arm. Other Indians tottered and toppled. 
 The yells of the women on the hills changed to screams. 
 
 The Indians who had crowded behind the medicine 
 man drew back on the bridles of their horses, and 
 wheeling about raced away at full speed. The fall 
 of the defiant conjurer had stripped them suddenly of 
 their courage. The long-shooting rifles of the white 
 men could kill. They had killed the medicine man, and 
 had broken the arm of Five Crows, and had bitten 
 deeply into the flesh of others. The rifles of the 
 white men could slay and would slay, even though 
 the medicine men had claimed the contrary. 
 
 Within less than five minutes a strange transforma- 
 tion had been effected. The fluttering feathers, the 
 fierce faces, the painted horses, were gone. The 
 river rippled on toward the sea ; the sun shone on 
 the hills; the sky looked down peacefully. Not an 
 
2 72 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Indian was to be seen. All had vanished, and every- 
 thing was silent except within the fort where the 
 victorious riflemen lay. 
 
 " Bah ! " said Tom McKay, " they fight and run hke 
 cowards. You can never get an Indian to stand up 
 and take a dose of bullets. That medicine man was 
 a fool ! " 
 
 '' Just like other medicine men," said Phil Curtis. 
 *' Some of them really think they bear charmed lives 
 and that nothing can hurt them." 
 
 When it was seen that the Indians had really re- 
 treated, the riflemen under Colonel GuiUiam clamored 
 to be led in pursuit. 
 
 ''The rascals need to be taught a lesson," they said, 
 " and they should be punished for the killing of Whit- 
 man and others. Unless they are crushed now, we 
 shall never have peace in this country." 
 
 Phil Curtis had no desire for an Indian war, yet he 
 knew that these old mountain men and voyageurs 
 were right. The only force those Indians could under- 
 stand was the force of the strong arm. The young 
 Cayuse braves, who were the leaders in this uprising, 
 had come to look with scorn upon the white men. 
 Marcus Whitman had fallen without a blow Hfted in 
 self-defence. Peter Skeen Ogden had retreated down 
 the river, as if he feared the Indians. Everything had 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 273 
 
 conspired to make these wild natives of Oregon believe 
 that the white men were a race of cowards. 
 
 Guilliam gave the order to advance up the river, 
 and then it was seen that the Indians had not really 
 retreated. Every rock seemed to hide a bowman. 
 Rifle shots rang out from beyond the ridges. In the 
 tall grass some painted brave twanged his bowstring, 
 then rose and fled in wild haste. A few of the white 
 men fell, but the others pressed right on, driving the 
 Indians before them. 
 
 All along the old immigrant trail this slow retreat 
 continued. Throughout the day the red men fired and 
 fled. At night their signal beacons flashed on the 
 hills. 
 
 " We're in for an Indian war," was the opinion 
 Phil Curtis expressed to Ben Allen. 
 
 " And war with Indians, at this time of year, isn't 
 going to be any fun," said Ben. " I'm half frozen now, 
 and worn out with hard work." 
 
 The little army was quite exhausted when it reached 
 the village of Pio-pio-mox-mox, which was now located 
 on the road to Waiilatpu. The old chief had taken no 
 part in the Indian uprising. Though he had lost his 
 son at the hands of a white man, he was still the white 
 man's friend. He was sensible enough to see that the 
 act of one man should not be charged against the race. 
 
2 74 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 He came out to greet Guilliam's little army, and spoke 
 kindly to Phil Curtis and Tom McKay. 
 
 "I have had no hand in this," he declared, speaking 
 of the action of the Indians. '' I have told the Cayuses 
 that the white man strikes hard and strikes far. I saw 
 him when he was fighting in California. I want to be 
 the friend of the white man and have the white man to 
 be my friend." 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox had been for a little while with 
 Fremont's small army in California, and had there 
 rendered gallant service in the war against the Mexi- 
 cans. He had truly seen the white men fight, and he 
 had fought by their side. 
 
 "We are tired; we are hungry," said McKay. 
 "You have many beef cattle here. We do not want 
 them unless we can buy them." 
 
 The old chief spread his hands out toward his herds. 
 
 " There they are," he said. " Take them ! " 
 
 Guilliam's men rested at the village of Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox. Then they went on with a new supply of food, 
 proceeding to Waiilatpu. All that remained of the 
 mission was a heap of charred ruins. It was a sad sight 
 to Phil Curtis. He had spent many happy months, even 
 years, there. Whitman and his wife had been in good 
 health and high spirits when last he had seen them, 
 and now he was never to look into their faces again. 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 275 
 
 He wanted to get away from Waiilatpu, and he was 
 glad when the order came to march. Tom McKay and 
 Guilliam were anxious to pursue the Indians into the 
 
 hills. 
 
 '' Matpah and Five Crows, and the Indians under 
 them, have gone to the Snake River," was the informa- 
 tion given by Pio-pio-mox-mox. 
 
 It was a long and wearisome distance, yet the pursuit 
 was begun. The greatest care was taken to prevent 
 word of the advance being sent on to the Indians. By 
 forced marches the Snake was reached in an incredibly 
 short time. There the Indians were discovered just 
 about to cross the river with a large number of cattle. 
 
 The riflemen put themselves in fighting trim. The 
 fugitives were sighted before they could charge, and 
 some old chiefs came out, with hands uplifted in token 
 
 of peace. 
 
 Tom McKay went forward to meet them. 
 
 "We are friends of Pio-pio-mox-mox," said one of the 
 chiefs, a venerable man, while his Ups trembled. This 
 array of fighting men frightened him. 
 
 Tom McKay looked him straight in the eyes. 
 
 "We have come for the murderers," he said. "We 
 want the men who killed Marcus Whitman." 
 
 uQone — all gone!" cried the old man, spreading 
 out his hands. 
 
276 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 So said the other chiefs. 
 
 *' Where have they gone ? " McKay demanded. 
 
 ** Across the river, farther into the mountains." 
 
 McKay looked out over the hills, and saw that they 
 were covered with cattle. The little army was suffer- 
 ing for want of provisions. 
 
 '* Whose cattle are these ? " he asked. 
 
 ** Many are ours," said the chief; ''but some are 
 Tiloukaikt's." 
 
 Black-faced Tiloukaikt had joined the hostiles. 
 
 "We will take the cattle," said McKay. 
 
 The chiefs begged for time in which to remove 
 their own from the midst of the herd. Tom McKay 
 hesitated. 
 
 "I will agree to that," he said at last, "because you 
 say you are the Yellow Serpent's people. Get out your 
 cattle." 
 
 The riflemen were not pleased with this arrange- 
 ment, when it was communicated to them by McKay, 
 for they distrusted the claims of the chiefs. McKay 
 had granted the request because he was anxious not 
 to injure or do wrong to any friend of Pio-pio-mox- 
 mox. 
 
 The distrust of the riflemen was justified by events. 
 Night fell while the work of separating the cattle was 
 going on. When dawn came the white men saw they 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 277 
 
 were being tricked, for the Indians were working like 
 beavers to put the entire herd across the river. 
 
 A roar of rage broke from the riflemen. Orders 
 were given by Colonel Guilliam to collect all the cattle, 
 and the men set out to obey. As they were thus 
 engaged, galloping here and there, snapping whips 
 and shouting at the herd, a wild war-whoop sounded, 
 like a thunderbolt shot from a sunny sky. 
 
 The Indians who were said to have fled across the 
 Snake into the farther mountains were in the lodges, 
 in full war regalia, with bows and rifles in their hands. 
 The claims of the chiefs had been but a trick to deceive 
 
 the white men. 
 
 As that yell rolled across the river, the entire village 
 was seen to be swarming with warriors, who leaped 
 from the lodges, shouting their war-cries. Rifles 
 crackled, while arrows hissed in the air as if they were 
 
 serpents. 
 
 The surprised riflemen fell on every hand, shot 
 down by bullet and arrow. Some of them had ridden 
 into the river to get out the swimming cattle, and 
 several of these were shot as they tried to reach the 
 shore. Tom McKay rode up and down the stream, 
 wild with rage, yelling to rally and encourage the 
 men. Phil Curtis and Ben Allen put themselves at his 
 side, as the men bunched together. 
 
2 78 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *'We shall have to charge them," said McKay, as he 
 looked round at those who were gathering about them. 
 
 The Indian yells were lifted in wild clamor. Rifles 
 still crackled and arrows hissed. It was the first 
 time that Phil Curtis and Ben Allen had been under 
 fire. Something seemed to rise in Phil's throat, but 
 it was not caused by fear. From head to foot he 
 thrilled with excitement. 
 
 ** We are with you ! " he shouted to Tom McKay. 
 
 **Ay, we are with you!" yelled some of the rifle- 
 men. 
 
 McKay's rifle went to his cheek. 
 
 " Fire ! " he said. *' Then charge ! " 
 
 Rifles flashed. Whips and spurs w^ere applied to 
 the snorting horses, and the rushing charge was on. 
 It broke the solid mass of Indians that had gathered 
 in front of the lodges. 
 
 As Phil Curtis dashed forward yelling, with Ben 
 Allen by his side, he came quite unexpectedly face 
 to face with Matpah. If he had not known the 
 young chief so well, he could hardly have recognized 
 him ; for Matpah, fighting with the upper part of 
 his body naked and his long hair floating, was so 
 covered with paint and decked with feathers that he 
 seemed altogether another man. 
 
 A wild cry leaped from the lips of the Indian when 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 279 
 
 he saw before him the youth he hated. He had 
 never forgotten nor forgiven Phil for throwing him 
 into the river that day at Waiilatpu. To his distorted 
 fancy, Phil had come between him and Cora Carlton, 
 and he believed that it was through Phil's influence 
 that Tilskit had been sent to release Cora from her 
 imprisonment. He had longed for the opportunity 
 which seemed now to have come to him, and his heart 
 flamed with wrath and vengeance. 
 
 " Ho, dog of a Boston ! " he yelled. 
 
 Then he drove his painted pony straight at Phil. 
 As he did so, he tossed up his rifle, — a beautiful 
 one which he had taken from some white man, — and 
 fired at the breast of his foe. The swaying motion 
 of his pony spoiled his aim, and the bullet flew over 
 Phil's shoulder. The next instant Phil's horse and 
 that of the young chief collided, almost pitching the 
 riders from their saddles. Phil struck at Matpah 
 with the rifle barrel ; and the Indian, dodging the blow, 
 drew his hatchet from his belt. 
 
 "Dog of a Boston," he yelled again; "now I kill 
 you!" 
 
 His hatchet whirled through the air, ghttering in its 
 circular flight like a wheel of diamonds. 
 
 Phil dodged it, and struck again with his rifle barrel. 
 Matpah caught it, and tried to jerk Phil out of his 
 
28o A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 saddle. Thus they came together, the horses jamming 
 into each other once more. Matpah tried to get out 
 a knife, but Phil clutched his arm and held it. Then, 
 in the rage and fury of battle, he struck the young 
 chief in the face. 
 
 Horses were trampling, blows being delivered, and 
 yells were rising. The seething battle was sweeping 
 past them in all its mad fury. Phil heard the wild 
 war-cries of the mountain men, — as wild as the yells 
 of the Indians themselves, — and he heard steel click- 
 ing against steel. 
 
 Then Matpah, disengaging his hand, struck at Phil 
 with his hunting-knife. In return Phil jerked the 
 young chief from his saddle. Horses raced by with 
 pounding hoofs, and Phil being caught in their midst 
 was borne away ; but looking back, he saw Matpah 
 leap to his feet, shake his fist angrily, and catch up 
 his rifle. Then other yelling figures intervened to 
 blot out the view. 
 
 The Indians scattered like chaff, but the respite was 
 for a short time only. They continued to fire from 
 behind the lodges, from behind rocks and trees, and 
 from every point of vantage. 
 
 With the riflemen falling and the cattle lost to 
 them, a retreat was ordered. The white men had 
 been deceived, trapped, and overwhelmed. When they 
 
THE CAYUSE WAR 281 
 
 tried to retreat, the Indians pursued; and the Httle 
 army was forced to take shelter under whatever cover 
 
 it could find. 
 
 For thirty hours the fight lasted — for thirty hours 
 the Indians were held at bay. Through the long 
 day, and the longer night, the combat continued till 
 it seemed the white men would be annihilated. Then 
 they succeeded in effecting a retreat. 
 
 The story of that retreat and disaster spread quickly 
 to all the Indian villages, and travelled likewise to 
 the homes and towns of the white settlers. It stirred 
 
 Oregon ; and Governor Abernethy issued another call 
 
 for volunteers. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 TRAPPED 
 
 THE defeat of the small force under Colonel Guil- 
 liam filled the hostile Indians of Oregon with sav- 
 age arrogance. Like the boastful medicine man who 
 had fallen before the rifle at the Dalles, they began 
 to believe themselves invincible. Medicine men de- 
 nounced the settlers with increased virulence. From 
 village to village old Waskema passed hke an evil 
 spirit. Her sinister prophecies seemed to be whis- 
 pered on every wind, and wherever she went she 
 stirred up hatred against the whites. 
 
 " Now is the time to drive out the white men, while 
 they are frightened," she urged. '' You, Cayuses and 
 Nez Perces, must not stay your hands now. Strike, 
 and strike quickly ; strike, and strike strong ! " 
 
 She was in every council lodge, and the medicine 
 men hearkened to her, for they looked upon her as a 
 being inspired. She based her sermons of hate on the 
 continued sickness in the Indian villasfes. 
 
 "They die," she said, speaking of the sick, "because 
 
 282 
 
TRAPPED 283 
 
 of the evil spirits loosed among us by the white men. 
 Drive out the white men, if you would save the lives of 
 your sick." 
 
 Everywhere Indian drums boomed in council lodges. 
 By every trail over which white men passed, painted 
 faces were seen. War rumors came down from the 
 hills on the wings of every wind. It was reported that 
 the Klamaths had come up from the southern moun- 
 tains and were encamped on a branch of the Willamette. 
 They were ready, it was said, to begin a war of exter- 
 mination against the whites. The Klickitats had come 
 out of their hill fastnesses to join the Cayuses. The 
 Warm Spring Indians had announced that they would 
 rise. The Nez Perces were ready to join with any 
 band that was prepared to move against the whites. 
 
 Fear crouched by the fireside of every settler. 
 Women hesitated to go beyond the doors of their 
 houses. When evening shadows fell, children looked 
 in fright into the gathering gloom. As men passed to 
 and fro from settlement to settlement, they went fully 
 armed. 
 
 Governor Abernethy issued a third call for volunteers. 
 In the month of March the forces which had been 
 gathering were ready to move, but the warUke Kla- 
 maths struck the first blow by attacking some cabins 
 and shooting down cattle. 
 
284 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Again Tom McKay rode in advance of the settlers' 
 forces. Under him was a small body of riflemen doing 
 duty as scouts. One of these was Phil Curtis, another 
 was John Curtis, his father, and a third was Ben Allen, 
 the boy from Indiana. They carried only their rifles 
 and blankets and a small, supply of food. 
 
 As the little Oregon army moved out in the gusty 
 spring weather, McKay's scouts went ahead, seeking 
 information. The white men had learned a lesson. 
 They did not intend to be trapped again, if they could 
 prevent it. So every hillside that could shelter a foe, 
 every rock that might screen a painted warrior, was 
 inspected. 
 
 This entailed hard riding and a great deal of dis- 
 agreeable and dangerous work. Phil Curtis and Ben 
 Allen kept together as much as they could. Some- 
 times Phil rode out alone with his father. 
 
 Few Indians had been seen as the little army 
 advanced into the hills, and these few professed friend- 
 ship for the whites. Pio-pio-mox-mox was in his vil- 
 lage. Tilskit was also in his village, it was reported, 
 though it was farther back in the hills and much 
 nearer to the hostiles. For a long time now Phil had 
 not seen his Indian brother, Timuitti, since Tilskit and 
 Timuitti would not take part with the white men, 
 though they refused to aid the other Cayuses. 
 
TRAPPED 285 
 
 One day as Phil rode along with his father, while 
 they watched carefully for indications of the presence 
 of enemies, they beheld the smoke of a camp-fire. 
 
 ** Indians ! " said John Curtis, and he drew in on his 
 bridle rein. 
 
 Side by side, on their ponies, Phil and his father sat, 
 watching that drifting smoke. 
 
 " Whether they are friends or foes can only be told 
 by investigating. If you will stay here with the ponies, 
 I will try to find out." 
 
 Curtis slipped from the back of his horse, and, giv- 
 ing the bridle to his son, moved off softly in the direc- 
 tion of the camp-fire. He was dressed in the garb of a 
 mountain man, and his moccasined feet made no sound. 
 Phil watched him as he crept away with catlike steps 
 and disappeared in the depths of the scantily timbered 
 ravine from which the smoke ascended. 
 
 It was wearisome waiting after that. There was 
 scarcely a sound or a sign of life. Though spring 
 had come, few birds invaded this solitude. High in 
 the tops of the slender trees the wind whispered, as if 
 it would tell to the youth beneath the everlasting se- 
 crets of the hills. Now and again one of the ponies 
 stamped restlessly, making a sound that seemed to 
 Phil's straining ears loud and startling, but which 
 could have been heard only a short distance away. 
 
286 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 As the slow minutes crept on Phil Curtis began to 
 be uneasy, yet he held his impatience in check. He 
 patted the smooth, arching necks of the ponies, and 
 talked to them in soothing tones to keep them quiet. 
 All the while his eyes were fixed in the direction in 
 which his father had gone. 
 
 " Something is wrong," he concluded at last. 
 *' Father has had time to go to that camp-fire and 
 back half a dozen times." 
 
 Still Phil Curtis held in his impatience and tried to 
 curb his uneasiness. He knew how exceedingly cautious 
 his father would be in a matter of this kind, and he 
 knew, too, he was not a man who could be trapped 
 easily. When nearly an hour had elapsed and still 
 John Curtis did not return, Phil's anxiety became so 
 great that he could remain no longer there beneath 
 the trees. 
 
 ** I must find out what has happened. He may have 
 fallen and hurt himself. There may be no Indians 
 there at all, and I may be simply wasting time here 
 while I might be helping him." 
 
 Pushed on by a wild desire to know what had oc- 
 curred, Phil hastily tied the horses to some swinging 
 boughs of a tree that grew near ; then, with his gun 
 held in readiness, he advanced in the direction taken 
 by his father. Every yard of the way he scanned 
 
TRAPPED 287 
 
 closely. He was aware that if a trap had been set for 
 John Curtis, it would probably be awaiting him, and 
 if he were not careful, he would fall into it. 
 
 He became even more cautious as he approached 
 the smoke. When he was within a hundred yards of 
 it, he could see down into the ravine. The small fire 
 which had been burning there seemed to be half ex- 
 tinguished, though smoke still mounted into the air. 
 No one was to be seen. The whole thing was very 
 alarming and strange. From behind the screen of a 
 low bush Phil stared at the fire and tried to outline 
 his course of action. 
 
 ''Father!" he called softly. 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " Father ! " he called again. '' Father, are you 
 
 there .? " 
 
 The only sound was the wind whispering in the tops 
 
 of the trees. 
 
 Phil's strained nerves cried out in anguish, yet he 
 stood still, fearing to advance and unwilling to retreat. 
 Finally he went on again slowly. He held his rifle 
 ready, with his finger on the trigger. 
 
 ''That fire was made by Indians," was his thought, 
 " and they were here not so very long ago. I should 
 be sure they had gone on, only I can't understand what 
 has happened to father." 
 
288 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 He advanced toward the fire. 
 
 A burning twig snapping in two, fell over with an 
 explosive crackle, and the two ends resembled two red 
 eyes staring at him. He stood still, gazing at these 
 two bright spots, then looked all round. Again he 
 advanced. 
 
 " Father ! " he called. 
 
 There was still the same mysterious silence. 
 
 "Father!" he cried once more, raising his voice to 
 a louder pitch. 
 
 He could now see beyond the fire, where there was 
 some snow which the spring sun had not melted. There 
 he beheld the imprints of moccasined feet. The tracks 
 showed the toes pointed in the opposite direction, in- 
 dicating that the Indians had gone on down the ravine. 
 
 " If . they have captured father, they must have 
 headed that way, taking him with them as a prisoner." 
 
 The thought served to destroy in a measure the ex- 
 treme caution which Phil had so far exercised. He 
 rose to an upright position and walked toward the 
 fire. 
 
 As he did so some heaped-up leaves, which at a 
 casual glance appeared to be mere drift, bulged up- 
 ward, and two Indians, who had been lying there 
 concealed, sprang upon him. 
 
 Phil Curtis saw at a glance that one of them was 
 
TRAPPED 289 
 
 Matpah, and threw forward his rifle ; but a blow from 
 a club knocked the muzzle downward, and the con- 
 tents were discharged into the earth. Before he could 
 gather himself for a struggle, Matpah and the other 
 Indian were upon him, bearing him to the ground. 
 
 Although surprised in this treacherous manner, Phil 
 Curtis made a gallant fight. Time and again he threw 
 off his assailants, and so strong and active was he 
 that he might have escaped from his foes if other 
 Indians had not hurried to their assistance, springing 
 into view from the surrounding rocks and gullies. 
 
 Beaten, bruised, and panting, Phil Curtis was hurled 
 to the ground. His gun had been torn from his hand, 
 and his hunting-knife was now snatched from its 
 sheath. Unarmed and helpless, he looked defiantly 
 at Matpah. 
 
 " Dog of a Boston ! " that youth exclaimed fiercely, 
 as he gave Phil a brutal kick in the side. " It is 
 Matpah's turn now ! " 
 
 Phil did not answer, for he knew that any words 
 he might speak would only bring new indignity. 
 
 He saw two Indians hurry away from the camp-fire, 
 up the ravine, and he knew that they were going for 
 the ponies. Some others then dragged up a bound 
 and unresisting form — the form of John Curtis. He 
 had not only been tied, but had been gagged to keep 
 
290 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 him from giving warning to his son. He looked at 
 Phil regretfully. 
 
 " Why do you not speak ? " demanded Matpah, 
 again kicking Phil in the side. 
 
 "Why should I speak.?" said Phil. "You have 
 trapped me. Is not that enough ? " 
 
 " It is not enough — it is not all. Where are the 
 ponies you stole from Stikine's village .'' " 
 
 The gag had been taken from the mouth of John 
 Curtis. Phil looked at his father, as if to question 
 concerning the answer he should make. 
 
 " Those ponies were not stolen," said Curtis. 
 " Stikine's Cayuses took two ponies from Phil and 
 the boy who was with him. When they could not 
 get their own ponies, they took others. That is not 
 stealing." 
 
 " My words were not for you," said Matpah. " Pah ! 
 I care not for you. My quarrel is with this one, 
 who calls himself the white Cayuse, and says he is 
 the son of Tilskit. He threw me into the river one 
 day at Waiilatpu. He sent Tilskit for the girl who 
 was in my village. He struck me in the face in the 
 fight at Snake River. Does he think that Matpah is 
 a dog to stand all these things.-^ He shall see!" 
 
 Phil looked at him calmly and even defiantly, but 
 made no answer. Words were but poor weapons now. 
 
TRAPPED 291 
 
 "Stand up!" Matpah commanded, speaking to both 
 John and Phil Curtis, when the two Indians who had 
 gone for the ponies had returned with them. 
 
 *' Where do we go ? " Phil ventured to ask. 
 
 "To a place from which you shall not return." 
 
 "Matpah is a fool," said John Curtis, speaking to 
 the young chief. " Does he suppose that he can do 
 this thing and not suffer for it.? My son is the 
 adopted son of the Cayuse chief, Tiiskit. Besides 
 that, the white riflemen are marching into these hills, 
 and if we suffer, they will avenge us." 
 
 " Pah ! " said Matpah, with a shrug of defiance. 
 " The white men will all be swept from the valley of 
 the Columbia. They will be scattered like the ashes 
 of a camp-fire. The anger of the Indians of Oregon 
 burns hot against the white men. Matpah does not 
 
 fear." 
 
 "The only one who is not afraid is a fool," said 
 Curtis, boldly, quoting one of the proverbs of the 
 mountains, with which all Indians were famiUar. 
 
 Matpah made a motion toward his knife, as if with 
 murderous intent; but he evidently thought better of 
 it, for drawing his hand away, he spoke to the excited 
 Indians who were clustering round him. 
 
 In answer to his command, they lifted John and 
 Phil Curtis to the backs of ponies, and tied them there. 
 
292 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Many other ponies were now brought up — a suffi- 
 cient number to mount Matpah's party. 
 
 The character of the trap into which John and Phil 
 Curtis had fallen was plain. Some of Matpah's men 
 had discovered them in the hills, noted their direction 
 and the speed at which they were moving, and then 
 a camp-fire had been built to attract their attention, 
 and an ambuscade prepared. 
 
 John Curtis could not condemn himself too severely 
 for falling into such an ambush. He was so ex- 
 perienced a mountaineer that he felt he ought to 
 have discovered and avoided it. The worst of it was, 
 as it seemed to him, he had led his son into this 
 terrible danger. What the outcome would be he 
 could only guess; but the manner of Matpah and 
 those with him did not augur well. 
 
 With the prisoners in their midst the Indians set 
 out, travelling through the hills in a northerly direc- 
 tion. They followed a trail that led along the ravine 
 and then across some sugar-loaf eminences which 
 were treeless and almost barren of vegetation. Two 
 hours later they came in sight of a village lying 
 along the banks of a small stream that came down 
 from the mountains, and so well screened that it 
 could not be seen until a near approach. 
 
 A wild whoop from Matpah announced his coming. 
 
TRAPPED 293 
 
 There were answering whoops and a great clamor, 
 with which was mingled much barking of dogs. 
 Then Indians came out of the lodges and began to 
 swarm from the village in the direction of the ap- 
 proaching party. 
 
 Among those with Matpah when he made the cap- 
 ture, Phil had recognized several who had been for a 
 longer or shorter term pupils in the Waiilatpu mission 
 school. One or two of them he had known well ; yet 
 how changed they were ! There they had seemed 
 tractable and almost civilized. Here in the solitude 
 of the hills they were streaked with paint and flutter- 
 ing with feathers. Every vestige of civiHzation had 
 been cast off. 
 
 Now, as the swarming Indians from the village 
 approached, Phil saw likewise in their midst faces that 
 were familiar — faces of men and women who had at 
 various times attended meetings held by Marcus Whit- 
 man. Some of them had even lifted their voices in 
 Christian song and taken part in Christian service. 
 Apparently this was all forgotten as they looked on 
 the helpless prisoners, and voices once raised in song 
 and praise were lifted now in wild yells of savage 
 joy. 
 
 *' The outlook is not pleasant," said Curtis, speaking 
 to his son in a low tone. " But I still have hope that 
 
294 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 these Cayuses will not be foolish enough to do anything 
 serious." 
 
 The hope was stronger on his lips than it was in his 
 heart. 
 
 When the prisoners were brought in and the Indians 
 had somewhat satisfied their curiosity, there was a 
 movement toward the council lodge — a lodge of enor- 
 mous proportions, located in the centre of the village, 
 by the margin of the stream. 
 
 Though Phil and John Curtis were closely guarded, 
 Matpah had disappeared. Yet one more terrible than 
 Matpah was there. This was Waskema, the fierce old 
 dreamer and necromancer. Her hate found vent now 
 in bitter vituperation. 
 
 Standing in the crowd of staring women and children, 
 she pounded the earth with her crooked staff and shook 
 her skinny fingers at the helpless captives. 
 
 " I know you," she said, directing her words to John 
 Curtis. " You have slept in our lodges and eaten of 
 our food ; yet now you lift your rifle against the Ca- 
 yuses. You are of that foul brood that came over the 
 mountains to swallow us ; but your long-shooting gun is 
 now no better than a stick." 
 
 She turned with blazing eyes upon Phil. 
 
 "And you, that call yourself the white Cayuse — you 
 who say that your heart is red with the red blood of the 
 
TRAPPED 295 
 
 Indian — you are of that foul brood, and because of it 
 you shall now die ! " 
 
 The prisoners were conducted into the council lodge, 
 where Umtippi came, and Waskema, and the chiefs and 
 head men gathered. Outside of the lodge entrance, 
 and all about, sat the gabbling squaws and the whisper- 
 ing, peering children. The squaws were even more fierce 
 than the warriors. They seemed veritable harpies, desir- 
 ous of tearing the prisoners Hmb from Hmb. Now 
 and then they screamed their hate and cried aloud in 
 fierce declamation. 
 
 Within the lodge Matpah stood up, accusing the 
 prisoners of stealing ponies from Stikine's village. 
 This was not enough, however, and he added to this 
 charge another, which to the Indian mind was blacker, 
 that of lifting the long-shooting gun of the white man 
 against the Indians of Oregon. 
 
 There was a very babel of denunciation and confu- 
 sion after these charges were made ; and it was only 
 stilled when an old chief rose to ask questions, and then 
 to speak his mind on the subject. He proved himself 
 to be a white-haired conser\^ative. 
 
 "The blood of the young flows hot in their veins," he 
 said, as he hfted his trembling hands and peered with 
 his aged eyes into the excited faces of the chiefs and 
 head men who were assembled there. " I am old, and 
 
296 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 I know ! I have seen the flowers of many summers 
 and the snows of many winters. The frost has left its 
 powder in my hair. The thing you would do to-day is 
 evil, and only evil. I do not love the white man. It is 
 because I love the Indian that I speak. The white 
 men are in Oregon. They are strong fighters, and they 
 have long-shooting guns. They have ponies, too — 
 many, many ponies. Even now some of them, with 
 their guns and their ponies, are in these hills. More 
 will come." 
 
 He paused and looked about, to observe the effect of 
 his words. 
 
 '* Not all the Cayuses are of one mind. The older 
 chiefs, like myself, see trouble in this thing. Pio-pio- 
 mox-mox is not here ; Stikine is not here ; many other 
 chiefs whose words are good, and whose counsel is wise, 
 are not here. I see about me only young men with hot 
 hearts and foolish heads — men like Matpah, who has 
 been a chief but a few moons. I say to these young 
 men, that the white men can strike hard and reach far. 
 Do not do this thing that ye contemplate." 
 
 Phil's fear had grown as the old man talked. Until 
 that time he had felt that his position was unpleasant, 
 and might even be perilous ; yet he had comforted him- 
 self with the belief that Matpah would not proceed to 
 extremes, because even he must have known that in the 
 
TRAPPED 
 
 297 
 
 end he would be compelled to reckon with old Tilskit, 
 who was a power wherever the Cayuses camped or 
 roamed. 
 
 Now he saw that all fear of Tilskit had been swept 
 out of the hearts of these young chiefs and head men. 
 Matpah, in his rage, was ready to go to any length, and 
 these foolish young men were ready to follow him. 
 Nothing could appease the hate of the young chief 
 except the death of these, his enemies. 
 
 Whatever the thoughts of John Curtis were, he man- 
 aged to conceal them well. With an air of calmness, 
 he listened to the speeches. He gave close attention 
 to the address of the old white-haired chief. Now and 
 then he glanced at Phil, as if he would encourage him. 
 Matpah leaped to his feet as soon as the old man sat 
 down, and words to shatter his arguments came hot to 
 his lips. He was not to be cheated of his revenge. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 
 
 IN spite of his determination to show no fear in the 
 presence of his father and of these staring Indians, 
 the heart of Phil Curtis sank with dread as he listened 
 to the fiery denunciations of the young chief. Mat- 
 pah recalled, with stinging words, all the evil deeds 
 he could remember which the white men had done 
 against the Oregon Indians since the first white trapper 
 had crossed the mountains in pursuit of the beaver. 
 He took up the arguments of Delaware Tom, of 
 Dorion, and the other half-breeds, and worked them 
 to his own uses. 
 
 Waskema, standing just within the lodge entrance, 
 with the babbling women behind her, seemed to give 
 strength to his words, while she searched the faces 
 of the assembled Indians with her keen eyes. 
 
 " Ay, remember the words of Waskema," she chanted 
 in a sing-song monotone, now and then rocking her 
 body to and fro as she leaned on her stick. " Ay, 
 remember the words and the warning of Waskema ! — 
 
 298 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 299 
 
 The white brood that came over the great mountains, 
 and now smis itself in the valleys of Oregon, must be 
 destroyed, like the brood of the serpent that suns itself 
 on the rocks." 
 
 The emotional oratory of Matpah, and the sing-song 
 utterances of the sorceress, were stirring the Indians 
 to a pitch of fiery enthusiasm and filling them with 
 an uncontrollable thirst for vengeance against the 
 whites, when a clattering of hoofs was heard outside, 
 and the voices of the women and children hfted in a 
 changed and higher key. 
 
 The light thud of springing steps falling on the 
 earth penetrated to the council lodge, bringing to a 
 sudden halt the speech of Matpah and the muttering 
 of Waskema. The women at the entrance dashed 
 aside, squabbling and scrambling. Then, with a flirt 
 of the hand that threw open wide the beaver-skin 
 flap at the entrance, old Tilskit himself came into the 
 lodge. 
 
 His brown cheeks were hollowed like those of a 
 skeleton, and his hooked nose was sharp as the beak 
 of a bird. His fierce eyes glowed with fever bright- 
 ness. He seemed a spectre, not a man, as he strode 
 thus into the midst of the council lodge. 
 
 " Hear me ! " he said, speaking in a shrill voice and 
 lifting his long, thin fingers with a dramatic sweep. 
 
300 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 *' Hear me, ye Cayuses and Nez Perces ; I have the 
 great disease ! " 
 
 All the Indians were drawing back in fear and 
 terror. Even Matpah was shrinking before him. 
 They had beheld victims of the great disease, as 
 they called measles, and it scarcely needed his words 
 to tell them that it had fastened itself upon him. 
 
 Waving his hand, Tilskit stood for a moment before 
 them, his eyes searching their faces with burning 
 glances. To their overwrought fancies he seemed a 
 very angel of pestilence, his breath carrying the seeds 
 of death. They knew that the great disease struck 
 its victims down in most mysterious ways. They 
 knew that if one who was well only went near it, it 
 fell upon him in some strange manner. 
 
 Seeing the effect of his presence, Tilskit strode 
 boldly across the lodge, with the Indians retreating 
 before him, until he came to the prisoners. Here he 
 stopped, and again turned upon the assembled chiefs 
 and head men. 
 
 ''This is my son," he said, waving his hand toward 
 Phil. *' He is the white Cayuse whom I took into 
 my lodge and my heart when my own son was 
 swallowed by the great river. I did that because he 
 saved the life of Timuitti, and because my heart 
 ached in its emptiness, and the heart of Timuitti's 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 301 
 
 mother cried out in desolation. Word came to me 
 but an hour ago that the council had gathered, and 
 now I am here." 
 
 Waskema broke in on him vituperatively. 
 
 " It is the white men who brought the great 
 disease into Oregon ! If it has sunk its talons into 
 you like the hawk, the white men are the ones who 
 are to blame ! " 
 
 Tilskit bent on her his fever-bright eyes. There 
 was sadness in his pinched face and in his tones, as 
 he replied : — 
 
 " Waskema does not know what she speaks. But 
 a little while ago, when I knew that the white Cayuse 
 and his father had been taken and brought to this 
 place, I heard a voice. It was the voice of the White 
 Salmon — the medicine salmon — which spoke to me 
 when I was but a boy and wandered into the woods 
 and mountains, seeking for the spirit voice that was 
 to guide me. The White Salmon spoke to me, and 
 told me that this thing, which I knew ye would do, 
 should not be ; that I should arise and ride to this 
 council, even though the great disease was on me." 
 
 " If the white man has cast the great disease upon 
 you, you will die ! " shouted old Waskema, fiercely. 
 
 Tilskit still looked at her mournfully and sadly. 
 
 " If it is the will of the Great Spirit that I die, I 
 
302 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 shall die ; but it was revealed to me by the White 
 Salmon that I should rescue these people, especially 
 my son, the white Cayuse, who saved the life of 
 Timuitti. Though the great disease had laid its 
 hand upon me, when the medicine salmon whispered 
 that in my heart, and told me what I should do, I 
 arose, and now I am here." 
 
 Again the harsh, high voice of Waskema broke out. 
 There was a murmuring among the Indians, led by 
 Matpah. Tilskit faced them unflinchingly, stretching 
 out his shaking hand. 
 
 " My touch brings death ! " he declared. " My breath 
 is the breath of the pestilence ! If you come near me, 
 it will slay you, even as it may slay me. The great 
 disease slays, and none can hinder ; but it spares some- 
 times even those whom it has stricken. It laid its hand 
 on Timuitti, yet it spared him ; and if I obey the voice 
 of the White Salmon, it may spare me." 
 
 Phil Curtis, who had been hstening intently to what 
 was said, here learned for the first time that Timuitti 
 had been stricken with measles and had recovered. 
 
 High rose the murmurs of the Indians. It was a 
 critical and crucial moment, and yet no one dared 
 approach Tilskit. He observed this, and stooping 
 quickly he severed the bonds of the prisoners with his 
 knife. 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 3^3 
 
 Outside, wailing voices lifted ; then within the lodge 
 loud murmurings arose. The temerity of old Tilskit 
 was passing strange. Matpah's face flamed with anger. 
 Others of the younger men voiced their disapproval. 
 Tilskit held them at bay with his fevered glance. He 
 stretched out his quivering hand. 
 
 "To the chief or head man who lays hand on me or 
 on these, on him will I breathe, and he will have the 
 great disease, from which he shall not recover ! " 
 
 He carried his wavering hand round in a sweeping 
 motion toward the lodge entrance. He turned himself 
 at the same time. John Curtis placed his numbed hand 
 on the shoulder of his son. 
 
 "Go!" he said in a low whisper. "Go! Tilskit 
 
 will save us ! " 
 
 Phil was standing erect now, but his whole body 
 trembled and his limbs seemed to be sinking under him. 
 His muscles were stiff and sore from the long constriction 
 of the binding cords. Yet he moved toward the lodge 
 entrance, stepping along at his father's side, with his 
 heart pounding in his throat in a way that almost 
 choked him. 
 
 Old Waskema raised her rasping voice in loud dis- 
 approval. Tilskit, who moved now at the side of the 
 released prisoners, fixed her with a burning glance. 
 Over her head he lifted his shaking hand. 
 
304 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Would you have the great disease?" he demanded 
 in a vibrant tone. 
 
 From the entrance, women and children were fleeing 
 with low cries of terror, and confusion reigned every- 
 where. Behind him Phil heard the chiefs and warriors 
 clamoring in fear and anger. 
 
 Old Waskema could not stand before the blazing eyes 
 of Tilskit ; though she cried out against him, she backed 
 away, mumbling. Tilskit passed her with swinging 
 strides, hurrying the prisoners on. 
 
 Beyond, at a little distance, sat Timuitti, mounted on a 
 pony and holding three others. 
 
 " To the ponies ! " said Tilskit, speaking, as he had 
 from the first, in the Cayuse tongue. "To the 
 ponies ! " 
 
 Now that he was out of the lodge he fairly ran, and 
 John Curtis and Phil leaped at his side. In a moment, 
 as it seemed, Tilskit had mounted, and the prisoners 
 were seated in the rude Cayuse saddles. The old chief 
 lifted a whip of thongs, with which he lashed his horse. 
 Phil and John Curtis plunged their heels into the flanks 
 of the ponies and gave them free rein. The confused 
 sounds behind v/ere growing in volume. The outcries 
 were now loud protests. 
 "Ride!" called Tilskit. 
 
 " Ride ! " echoed John Curtis. 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 305 
 
 The borders of the village were gained. Up from 
 the timber-screened lowland toward the higher slopes 
 the ponies galloped, speeding as if they were racing 
 over a level roadway. Timuitti and Tilskit jerked on 
 the skin cords attached to the rawhide bits in the 
 ponies' mouths. 
 
 " Ride!" urged Tilskit. 
 
 '' Ride ! " responded John Curtis, 
 
 The clamor behind grew into a wild roar that flung 
 itself up the hills. The fear of the great disease, 
 which had held the Indians in a stupor of dismay, was 
 passing away. Matpah was beginning to see that he 
 had been tricked. Old Waskema was screaming her 
 hate. The squaws, feeling that they had been cheated, 
 were making the air vocal. 
 
 Seizing a rifle, Matpah pitched it to his shoulder and 
 took a shot at the escaping prisoners. He was too 
 excited to aim accurately, and in addition the distance 
 was too great. The bullet fell short. 
 
 " Pursue them ! " he commanded. " Pursue them 
 and bring them back ! " 
 
 " But the great disease ! " cried the old white-haired 
 chief, whose words of counsel had been overborne. 
 
 Whatever he thought of the action of Tilskit, he 
 was at least not unwilling to use this fear to stop the 
 pursuit. 
 
3o6 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Hearing him cry out in that way, many of the war- 
 riors and chiefs drew back. The great disease was a 
 thing not to be despised. It had struck down many 
 Cayuses. The blow of a bullet or an arrow they could 
 understand ; but this pestilence, that came from where 
 no one could say, was a thing to fill them with strange 
 dread. They hearkened to the words of the old chief, 
 and halted. But Matpah and some of the more reck- 
 less of the younger men rushed to their ponies, mounted, 
 and set off in hot chase of Tilskit and the escaping 
 prisoners. 
 
 That was a wild ride across the sugar-loaf hills. As 
 Tilskit and Timuitti and the rescued captives rode on 
 and on, galloping fiercely and recklessly, the pursuers 
 were left farther and farther behind, until they could be 
 neither seen nor heard any longer. 
 
 The strength that upheld old Tilskit seemed strange 
 and unnatural. He crouched weakly in his saddle, his 
 eyes were hot and bright, yet an inner force sustained 
 him. It was no doubt the voice which he had believed 
 to be the voice of the White Salmon, telling him that 
 he had done right, and urging him to the utmost exer- 
 tion. Warm spring breezes came, as if to cheer him on. 
 
 "It is the Chinook!" he cried exultantly, as that 
 warm wind from the sea kissed his hot cheeks. " It 
 may be that the White Salmon makes the Chinook to 
 blow ! Who knows .'' " 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 307 
 
 •'Who knows ? " said John Curtis, in response. 
 
 What to old Tilskit was the voice of the White 
 Sah-non was to John Curtis the voice of God. It seemed 
 to him it might be that God made the Chinook blow 
 soft from the sea to give strength and encouragement 
 to this heroic old Indian. 
 
 In spite of all, it was to Tilskit an exhausting ride. 
 When he reached the camp of the mountain men, which 
 had been from the first his destination, he dropped for- 
 ward, weak and helpless, on the neck of his pony, and 
 but for Phil, who leaped to aid him, would have fallen 
 headlong to the ground. 
 
 "He has fainted!" Phil cried out in a tremor of 
 
 fright. 
 
 The men, who had started up when they beheld 
 these galloping figures, swarmed about now to offer 
 assistance. Tilskit was lifted from his saddle by gentle 
 hands and laid on a buffalo robe. 
 
 In a few quick words, John Curtis told the mountain 
 men and Tom McKay, their commander, what Tilskit 
 had done, and what he himself and his son had 
 
 suffered. 
 
 Some strips of canvas were stretched to make a 
 tent for Tilskit, and what remedies the men had were 
 brought out. Phil and Timuitti hovered over the 
 sick man, anxious to do something, and almost in a 
 
3o8 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 panic of fright ; but the old chief did not come of a 
 fainting race, and he quickly recovered conscious- 
 ness. 
 
 As soon as he found opportunity Timuitti acquainted 
 Phil Curtis and the mountaineers with the story of his 
 own adventures, which enabled them to understand how 
 it came about that Tilskit had appeared so opportunely 
 in the council lodge. 
 
 Timuitti had been out in the hills, digging roots to 
 make medicine for his father, who had been stricken 
 down but the day before. He had suffered, himself, 
 from the great disease, he said, and he hoped the roots 
 which helped him then would help his father. 
 
 It was while thus engaged, with his pony tied some 
 distance away, that he observed the camp-fire smoke 
 which Phil had also seen ; and almost immediately he 
 beheld some Indians attack John Curtis and drag him 
 down. In the party he recognized Matpah. 
 
 After that he was afraid to go down to the camp-fire, 
 seeing that Curtis had been made a prisoner, and that 
 Matpah was in command. He had lain on the hillside 
 looking down at the camp-fire, and had noticed that the 
 Indians concealed themselves again. It seemed to him 
 they were hiding from some one. When he had 
 remained there a long time, not able to determine on 
 any course of action, he had seen Phil Curtis appear, 
 
THE HEROISM OF OLD TILSKIT 309 
 
 almost in the midst of the Indians, who at once set 
 upon him, as they had set upon his father. 
 
 Then Timuitti had risen in fright and scampered 
 away. Getting his horse, he had ridden in hot haste 
 to his father's village, and there had told him and 
 Neekomy what he had seen. 
 
 Tilskit now heard Timuitti, as he narrated this story. 
 
 *' It was then that I heard the voice of the White 
 Salmon," he said. " The White Salmon told me to 
 go, and I went. Because I obeyed the voice, it may 
 be that I shall not die of the great disease." 
 
 "There's an Injun that ought to have been born a 
 white man," said Tom McKay. 
 
 '' Ay, McKay, but you're right ! " John Curtis 
 assented, and the mountain men agreed with him. 
 
 They built a hut there to shelter Tilskit, and put 
 in it such things as they could spare. McKay was 
 to go on with his men ; and he asked many questions 
 of John Curtis, and of Phil and Timuitti, concerning 
 the village of Matpah and the number of Indians in it. 
 
 "Ay, when we strike them we will drive them like 
 a whirlwind," he declared with energy. 
 
 Preparations for departure were already being made. 
 John and Phil Curtis and Timuitti were to remain to 
 do what thev could for Tilskit and endeavor to nurse 
 him to health. 
 
3IO A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Phil was thankful that Whitman had instructed him 
 so well in the treatment of measles. He had but little 
 medicine, but he and his father and Timuitti were well 
 acquainted with the virtues of the roots and herbs 
 which were to be obtained along the streams and in 
 the hills. These they procured, and of them made 
 teas and decoctions. 
 
 " A man who could make a ride like that is not going 
 to die easily," said John Curtis, in a hopeful tone. 
 
 In his half-lucid moments the old chief babbled like a 
 child, speaking of the White Salmon. It was talking to 
 him, he thought, and was telling him he had done well. 
 
 The third day after the departure of the men Tilskit 
 came out of what appeared to be a state of uncon- 
 sciousness and announced in a triumphant voice that 
 the White Salmon had told him he was to get well. 
 
 Measles had proved deadly to the Indians of Oregon, 
 but the reason was not far to seek. They trusted to 
 the foolish methods of the medicine men ; and now 
 and then when hot with fever one would leap from his 
 skin cot and jump into the cold water of the river. 
 When he arose to the surface, he was either dead or 
 dying. 
 
 Tilskit's nurses were of the best, and after his an- 
 nouncement that the voice of the White Salmon had 
 said he was to get well, he began to improve rapidly. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 TOM McKAY and his band struck the village of 
 Matpah like a whirlwind, as he had promised. 
 Matpah rallied his followers and made a desperate 
 stand, but he was defeated ; and in that fight Umtippi, 
 the medicine man, was slain. 
 
 There were other fights and sharp brushes with the 
 Indians, with innumerable adventures, while Phil Curtis, 
 his father, and Timuitti were nursing old Tilskit back 
 to health. 
 
 When the chief was able to return to his village and 
 his lodge, Phil and John Curtis rejoined Tom McKay 
 and the riflemen, among whom they found Ben Allen. 
 
 Waskema, after the defeat of Matpah, took refuge 
 with the warlike Klamaths ; and under her inspiration 
 they were raiding settlements, destroying stock, and 
 attacking lonely cabins. 
 
 McKay's force moved against them. The Klamaths 
 fled, but made a final stand in the Abiqua bottoms. 
 
 ^11 
 
312 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 Here, behind a shelter of rock walls, they awaited the 
 advance of McKay's men. 
 
 "We must charge them," said McKay. *' Our rifles 
 can do nothing against these rocks, so we shall have to 
 rout them out." 
 
 Phil Curtis and Ben Allen were in the very forefront 
 of the riflemen as they moved against the intrenched 
 Klamaths. From behind the rock walls, arrows fluttered 
 and guns flamed. Indian yells rose clamorously, until 
 the very air seemed to shake. On the right and on the 
 left Phil saw men drop. 
 
 " Fire ! " came the quick, sharp voice of McKay. 
 
 The long-shooting rifles flashed and roared. Then 
 the riflemen dashed forward, cheering as they ran; 
 and the Klamaths, broken by that charge, fled in wild 
 disorder. 
 
 Old Waskema lay behind the rock walls among the 
 slain, her fierce face distorted by hate and her claw- 
 like hands clutching a bow of Oregon yew. She had 
 died fighting. 
 
 As Phil Curtis looked into her face, he was filled 
 with a deep sorrow. She had been vindictive and 
 implacable ; but she had been consistent in her enmity 
 of the whites, and she had loved her people. 
 
 The hotly pursued murderers of Marcus Whitman 
 sought refuge now beyond the Rockies. The warlike 
 
CONCLUSION 313 
 
 Indian bands submitted, begging for peace. Five 
 Crows, severely wounded, died in the village of Chief 
 Joseph. Joe Lewis, the Cherokee half-breed, fled to the 
 Great Salt Lake. 
 
 Pio-pio-mox-mox, 'Hlskit, Chief Joseph, and some 
 others had taken no part in the war. 
 
 Among the white men who did not return from the 
 campaigns was Colonel Guilliam. 
 
 When the riflemen, worn out by constant pursuit, 
 turned back toward the settlements, some of the Nez 
 Perces, to prove that they were friendly to the white 
 men and held the slayers of Marcus Whitman in 
 detestation, pursued the murderers and those who still 
 duns: to their fortunes. It was a hot chase, ending 
 on John Day River, where a furious pitched battle 
 was fought, in which the Nez Perces were victorious. 
 Matpah was numbered with the slain. 
 
 The Xez Perces took many captives. Five of the 
 Indians thus taken and delivered to the white men 
 were, after due trial, hanged at Oregon City for the 
 murder of Marcus Whitman and those who fell at 
 Waiilatpu. Among them was black-faced Tiloukaikt, 
 once a member of Whitman's mission church. 
 
 Thus the Cayuse War ended, and peace reigned 
 again in Oregon. 
 
 Until the day of his death, John McLoughlin made 
 
314 A COURIER OF EMPIRE 
 
 his home in Oregon City. It is sad to say that, though 
 he had lost his position with the Hudson Bay Company 
 because, it was beHeved, he had been too generous and 
 yielding in his treatment of the settlers, this kindness 
 was not properly returned by the Americans. 
 
 McLoughlin was not the only man, however, whose 
 courage and goodness were better understood and 
 appreciated by a later generation than by his own. 
 That was Hkewise the fate of Marcus Whitman. 
 What he did for Oregon has been much more fully 
 recognized in recent years than when the heroic 
 deeds were done. 
 
 To-day a tall and graceful shaft of granite marks 
 the grave of Marcus Whitman and the graves of all 
 those who fell with him in the massacre at Waiilatpu. 
 In addition, a college bearing his name has been es- 
 tablished in the city of Walla Walla, but a few miles 
 from the site of his mission station. But Oregon 
 itself, saved to the Union by his famous ride, is his 
 greatest and best monument. 
 
 A few words should be written concerning those 
 whose adventurous deeds and heroic conduct have been 
 most closely chronicled. 
 
 Ben Allen, the Indiana lad, became a prominent and 
 respected citizen of the new Oregon ; while Tom McKay 
 and John Curtis lived many years to trap the beaver and 
 
CONCLUSION 315 
 
 follow the deer in the mountains. Old Tilskit and Pio- 
 pio-mox-mox were until the end honored chiefs in their 
 respective bands, and Timuitti, called afterward Timo- 
 thy, became a preacher of the gospel, and did much to 
 reestabhsh mission work among the Oregon Indians. 
 
 As for Phil Curtis, he was, some time after the close 
 of the Cayuse War, married to Cora Carlton; and for 
 many years they dwelt at Walla Walla, honored and 
 loved by all who knew them. 
 
WITH FREMONT 
 THE PATHFINDER 
 
 OR, The Winning of the Empire of Gold 
 
 By John II. Whit son 
 
 J20 pp. Illustrated. Cloth, $i-SO 
 
 A story in which care has been taken to preserve historical 
 accuracy. The account of the discovery of gold in Califor- 
 nia is realistic, and the book is one which boys East and 
 West will thoroughly enjoy. — Bulletin. 
 
 The names of both book and author suggest an Indian 
 story, but it is also history in the form of fiction, for nearly 
 every character, save Bruce Gordon and his blood relatives, 
 had a real existence. — Two States. 
 
 In this volume the writer has introduced much valuable 
 and historical information, filling the story with incidents of 
 a dramatic and stirring kind. The pen portraits of Fremont, 
 Alexander Godey, Kit Carson, Maxwell, and Owens are true 
 to life, and the main threads of the narrative are true to the 
 facts of history. — Herald and Presbyter. 
 
 The mere mention of Fremont and the conquest of the 
 country west of the Rockies is enough to set the heart of 
 the average boy a-thrill. The story presents faithful portraits 
 of many of the great border men, and the book will be almost 
 as interesting to the older people as to the young folks, — 
 Epworth Herald. 
 
 The name of Fremont should be kept alive in the minds of 
 each generation, and a strong, stirring story like the present 
 volume will appeal to a large number of readers. It is to be 
 especially recommended to young people, as its descriptions 
 of Fremont and the men associated with him are very able, 
 and the historic portion of the story is in accord with facts. 
 — Watchman. 
 
By Everett T. Tomlinson 
 
 Author of the " War of the Revolution Series" 
 
 ^'The Colonial Series'' 
 
 EACH VOLUME FULLY ILLUSTRATED 
 PRICE, $1.50 
 
 With Flintlock and Fife 
 
 A STORY OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN 
 WARS AND THE BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 IN I7S5- 356 pp. 
 
 A story setting forth, as this does, the hardships of the 
 early pioneers in New York State cannot help but prove 
 both entertaining and instructive to the younger readers. — 
 Chicago Post. 
 
 This book, like Mr. Tomlinson's other stirring patriotic 
 stories, is calculated to cultivate a taste for history among 
 our growing youth and inspire them to brave deeds and noble 
 aims. — Observer. 
 
 A story like this will stimulate patriotic study of history, 
 and will help to lay the foundation for intelligent, loyal citi- 
 zenship. — Christian Endeavor World. 
 
 The Fort in the Forest 
 
 THE STORY OF THE FALL OF FORT WIL- 
 LIAM HENRY IN 1755. 341 pp. 
 
 This volume takes its readers through that portion of our 
 early history when the French and Indians combined, and 
 constantly made expeditions down into our sparsely inhab- 
 ited communities. 
 
 It is a story full of the adventurous life of the times, when 
 intrigue on the part of the Indians had to be met by the same 
 on the part of the colonists. These many early engagements 
 proved to be the foundation stones upon which was built the 
 spirit of 1775. 
 
 It contains the patriotic spirit and enthusiasm which have 
 made Dr. Tomlinson's stories for boys so popular. 
 
 Other volumes in preparation. 
 
The Sword of Wayne 
 
 A Story of the Way He Smote the Indians and 
 Brought Them to Sue for Peace 
 
 By Charles S. Wood 
 370 pp. Illustrated. Cloth^ %i'50 
 
 You have a splendid story, and it will be good for boys to 
 listen to you, and for old people, too. You help to make the 
 interest in our country's history deeper and more intelligent. 
 Prof. Henry Van Dyke, Princeton College. 
 
 The book is one which will strongly appeal to boys, and 
 should furnish entertaining reading for the youth of the 
 country, and could well be recommended to teachers as giving 
 one of the best histories of the career of General Wayne. — 
 Press- Republic. 
 
 This story describes in a graphic and entertaining way 
 the struggles which took place between the white settlers and 
 the Indians at an early period of Ohio's history. — The Daily 
 Journal. 
 
 The book depicts in a way interesting to young readers 
 some of the brave acts of the famous "Mad Anthony." He 
 was just the hero the small boy likes to lionize, as he breath- 
 lessly follows his career from page to ^2.gt.— Advance. 
 
 The hardships and perils of the pioneers are here strikingly 
 portrayed, as also their courage and fertility of resource 
 in conflicts with the wily savages. The domestic and love 
 scenes are very charming, and some of the characters are ex- 
 ceedingly winning and di&\\^\iyx\.— Watchman. 
 
Fighting Under 
 
 the Southern Cross. 
 
 A Story of the Chile-Peruvian War. 
 
 BY 
 
 CLAUDE H. WETMORE. 
 
 335 pages. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 CONTAINING PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 
 AND MAP OP CALLAO BAY 
 
 This is one of the best stories for boys that has been issued, and 
 with great pleasure we lieartily recommend it. — Observer. 
 
 This story is full of thrilling interest and dramatic power. The 
 many picturesque descriptions give a real portrayal of the country 
 and its people. — Book News. 
 
 This volume is so real that one imagines he is in the centre of 
 action. This doubtless is due to the author's thorough acquaintance 
 with the customs and conditions of these countries. — St. Louis Star, 
 
 Just now when there are so many reminders of the differences 
 existing bet\veen the South American States, and while the influ- 
 ence of the Pan-American Congress in Mexico is being so strongly 
 felt, this book is very timely. It is a very vivid picture of the war 
 between Chile and Peru in 1879, arrd a portrayal of the customs and 
 manners of these states that is extremely interesting, and that throws 
 much light on present problems. — Christian Endeavor World. 
 
 The bitter war of conquest waged by Chile against Peru has never 
 been given any popular presentation until now. The author is a 
 traveler who has covered all of South America and was a resident of 
 Peru when the war broke out. His picture of that period is absorb- 
 ingly interesting, and the promised sequel of this volume will be 
 awaited with great eagerness. — Tlie hiierior. 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY, Boston and Chicago. 
 
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