LIII.
Havana, April 10, 1849.
This is the last of the five holidays, during which the custom-house is closed, and commerce suspended. The Passion Week ends to-day, and I have concluded to give you some of the details, without comment, from which you can draw your own conclusions. I find that there is a great difference of opinion among the Spaniards themselves as to the utility of keeping up, in this enlightened day, the observance of customs which were practised in barbarous ages, and are divested in most cases of the imposing and magnificent ceremonies at Rome, during the Holy Week.
Commercial men dislike the prostration and interruption of trade, which continues nearly a week, and which produces great hurry and bustle in loading and discharging vessels, prior to the closing of the custom-house; but on the part of the negro population the festivals are much enjoyed. Dressed in all the finery possible, the sable damsels may be seen with white and black mantillas, and fans in their hands, forming a portion of the church attendants, sitting or kneeling upon the marble pavement, side by side with the wealthy classes, kneeling and reposing upon rugs brought by liveried servants. In the house of worship no distinction is made between bond or free, black or white; all enjoy the same religious privileges.
On Jueves Santo, or Holy Thursday, after ten o’clock in the morning, Havana, the noisy, bustling, active city, is in deep repose, and for forty-eight hours all is silent; not a vehicle is allowed to pass; the bells are muffled; the sentries and military guards have their arms reversed; the flags of all the vessels are half-mast; the altars of the churches and convents are decorated with the figures of angels and cherubim, in gold and silver tinsel robes, bearing in their hands the instruments of torture, symbolical of the crucifixion of Christ. In the Santa Catalina, which, as well as some eight or ten other churches, was illuminated with hundreds of wax candles, and visited by thousands, is the figure of Christ bearing his cross, and borne down by its crushing weight nearly to the marble pave; a little further on are two other figures, representing the flagellated and the mutilated body; the third Christ being in a sitting posture, bound and bleeding from his wound.
The hosts of ladies who scarcely ever appear in the streets unless in volantes, are obliged to make use of their tiny feet, and from the churches wend their way to the Plaza d’Armas, a beautiful promenade in front of the governor’s house, where by the light of the moon they can exchange glances and salutations with friends, and listen to fine music from the military band.
On Viernes Santo, or Good Friday, an immense procession, composed of the clergy and assistants in full dress, with torches, assisted by the military with arms reversed, proceeds from the church of San Juan de Dios to the cathedral, where the dead body of Christ is deposited in a sepulchre, in which it remains until the morning of the third day, when, after the performance of mass to the multitude at ten o’clock, silence is once more broken by the pealing of the bells, the roar of cannon from the forts, and the discharges of the infantry who occupy the Plaza or square, in front of the cathedral, all of which announces the resurrection. The negro drivers, who have bedecked their mules with ribbons, drive wildly through the streets; the military shoulder arms, and the flags of the vessels are again hoisted to the tops of the masts.
The following morning the ceremony of Christ going forth to meet the Virgin took place. The almost naked figure of our Saviour, as large as life, upon a platform supported by twelve men, almost concealed from view by curtains suspended to the ground, sallies forth from the cathedral followed by the priests in robes, bearing the host under a canopy with burning incense, while the military and populace are prostrated upon their knees; after having made the tour of the Plaza, amid the showers of bouquets from the ladies in the balconies, the procession marches in the direction of one of the churches, which contains full-sized figures of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene, in rich robes of gold and silver tinsel, who are brought out on platforms upon which they are attached, and supported upon the shoulders of four men each; the latter, espying Christ coming in the distance from an opposite direction, run hurriedly towards him, turn as suddenly and go in pursuit of his mother to communicate the glad tidings, while she in turn rushes rapidly forward to embrace him, when, after a salutation, they proceed together, and are placed within the altar, and mass is said, and the scene is finished.
I observed but a small attendance of whites of the upper classes, at this last described ceremony, but hosts of negroes whose curiosity it gratifies. The sensible part of the community wish it dispensed with, as, instead of being imposing and solemn, portions of it excite the laughter of the crowd.
A grand masquerade ball is announced for Sunday night, at the theatre, which will be attended by probably five or six thousand persons; this will close the ceremonies and performances of the Holy Week in Havana.
The cathedral is an antique, and plain, but noble building, with some good monuments. The most interesting, historically, is that which covers the remains of Christopher Columbus, whose ashes were transported from the cathedral of San Domingo by the Spaniards, when that island was ceded to the French in 1795. The reception of the body at Havana is said to have been august and stately. After it was landed with the greatest pomp, it was conveyed to the cathedral, when, after mass and solemn ceremonies, the mortal remains of the great navigator were placed in the wall behind a bust, in basso relievo, in marble, with the following inscription:
“O, remains and image of the great Columbus,
For a thousand ages continue preserved in this urn,
And in the remembrance of the nation.”
1850.
LIV.
TRIP TO CALIFORNIA, DEC. 20, 1850.
I left New York by mail train for Philadelphia, spent a day there, and then went on to Baltimore and Washington; Congress in session; called upon some of the members: took the train for Aquia Creek, thence by rail to Fredericksburg and Richmond; visited a few friends, and started for Wilmington, North Carolina, all by rail, without any of the inconveniences of corduroy roads as in former days. The steamer took us to Charleston; rough night; second cabin filled with negroes going south, fresh from Virginia plantations; they experienced the horrors of sea-sickness. Left Charleston the first of January, by steamer Jasper, outside passage for Savannah, and Georgia Central Railroad to Macon; passed Sunday, attended divine service there, and continued by rail to Montgomery, in comfortable cars, where more than once before I had made the same journey in open wagons, drawn through the mire by six horses; where the stage could not stand erect; broke the pole at midnight; up to knees in mud, carrying rails on the shoulder to pry out the wheels, and borrowing planters’ wagons; carrying lighted pine knots in hand, in the obscurity of the night; lying before a camp fire, upon a buffalo skin; and riding upon an iron-bound trunk, over the hind axle, for one hundred miles. Such, in winter, were Georgia pine-woods roads for travelling, before the railway was completed. Took steamer Daniel Pratt at Montgomery, capital of Alabama, for Mobile, receiving cotton at all the landings. Weather foggy and rainy—made it slippery work. An animated sight in a dark night (the steamer tied up to some tall tree on the river bank) is the sliding down of cotton bales from a high bluff, while camp fires are lighted on the banks, and the five or six furnace doors on the main deck are thrown open, and the red glare of light throws its lurid beams upon the gangs of negroes, singing sailor songs.
An amusing incident once occurred, coming down the river. The excessive rains had made the roads almost impassable. The boats were anxious to fill up with cotton freight, until the guards were under water, and the bales were piled half the height of the smoke stack; and wherever the eye rested, it was on cotton. This valuable freight could not be resisted; but the bales lay some distance up a little bayou. So all hands and a number of passengers started for the point. Each man mounted a bale and came floating down. I selected a large square one, and with two poles came paddling along safely; while some of my neighbors made poor selections, and round went the bales, and they got a good ducking, to the amusement of the bystanders.
Sunday, attended church in Mobile, and left with steamer J. L. Day for New Orleans. Among our passengers were Madame Le Vert, of Mobile, and Miss Fredrika Bremer, the Swedish authoress, who, like myself, were bound for Cuba. We were laden with cotton, mules, and other freight for New Orleans. Our steamer grounded at midnight on Cat Island, and was so belated we could not arrive in time for the departure for Havana, the next day. I took the ladies under my charge, and escorted them to the St. Charles hotel, where my friends Mr. Brown (late Consul General of Turkey) and his wife, whom I had known in Constantinople, were stopping, with the Turkish Envoy, Amin Bey and suite. Our hotel took fire on Saturday morning, the 18th, and was consumed in two hours. I had just breakfasted with the party, stepped out a half hour, when it was announced that the hotel was on fire. I rushed to the scene, and ascertained that our friends’ luggage was saved, made an effort to secure my own, and succeeded in saving the greatest proportion of it. The conflagration extended to the neighboring church and other buildings, and was terrific. Madame Le Vert requested me to telegraph to her husband, and take her to the railway, and she would return home. Miss Bremer, who fortunately was visiting friends, lost nothing, and went over to Havana in company with us. Here we found Jenny Lind, to whom Miss Bremer presented me. She had not seen her since a child, in Sweden. I had attended her concerts in New York. The steamer Ohio, Captain Porter, was present, bound for Chagres, and I embarked in her. The first day, at dinner at the captain’s table, a lady seated at my right heard my name, and asked if I was the friend of a cousin of hers, who had stated I was on my way south. I replied that I was, and was pleased to meet with her, and should be happy if I could be of service. What was my surprise, when, on going in the ladies’ saloon, I found her with her nurse and four children, the youngest sixteen months old, on her way to California; she had missed her friends, a gentleman and lady, whose boat was detained by ice in the Mississippi, and could not connect at Havana. She had paid a through passage to San Francisco, and was in great distress whether to return or proceed. I was not well myself. I had heard much of the horrors of the Isthmus; my sympathies were with the party, my reputation as an American was at stake, for courtesy towards ladies; the regard I entertained for her friend, induced me to say, “You shall proceed, and I will assume the responsibility.” With travelling experience, and a knowledge of Spanish, and such assistance as gentleman passengers could render throughout, there would be no difficulty. On our arrival in the roadstead of the dirty, filthy place, with low huts on both sides of the Chagres river, the sea was rolling in heavily, and we landed with difficulty. The children were lowered in crockery crates, and, the infant in my arms, I was suspended in a chair. I procured supplies from the steamer and purchased some ashore. We were the last to leave the ship. I chartered a dug-out, or canoe covered with palm-leaf top and tarpaulin; made my contract in Spanish with some Maracaibo natives to pole us up the stream as far as Gorgona, the price sixty dollars, half down, and half on arrival. I would not suffer them to stop at Gatoon, where the boatmen have their fandangos, but, as we were the last to leave, I insisted on beating the party and arriving ahead. We kept straight on and reached los dos Hermanos, and arrived that night at eleven P.M.; I went ashore and purchased sugar, and strolled through the small street of the village where they were slung up in hammocks, half naked. We waited at San Pablo until early break of day; I kept watch in a sitting posture in the stern of the boat, as I did not like the looks of the natives. We started in advance of the others; a beautiful morning after a rainy night in this hot climate; the scenery lovely; tropical vegetation, foliage of the trees, beautiful flowers, parrots and other birds of plumage of charming character. Difficult poling up the rapids; our men were liberally supplied and stimulated to action, and I was determined to beat the party, in consequence of their want of politeness in not assisting an unprotected family. I arrived at Gorgona in advance, made arrangements for four mules at fourteen dollars each, and three children to be carried on the shoulders of natives to Panama at ten dollars each; the luggage at nine cents per pound. We were all mounted and in the act of departure when the other boats came in sight, and up went the price of mules to sixteen dollars.
The paths were of the worst possible description—deep ravines worn down by the tread of animals, and at certain seasons impassable. The mule of the lady fell, and as I sprang to assist her the branch of a tree caught me by the neck and made an abrasion; while in the act of getting her up down came the Irish nurse spraining her wrist; she was unwilling to re-mount, and declared she was kilt intirely; by great persuasion I got her on again. Then the children separated in the woods from the mother, upon the backs of these half-naked dark-skins, and sadly distressed her. Passing over rugged roads, crossing ravines, deep gorges, the remains of dead animals and bones of mules lying by the way, we came to the tents or shanties of supplies; the occupants looked sepulchral from fever. Piles of empty bottles, were round, and disappointed Californians were returning. The natives did not want to go on, but I pushed them up to the work, anxious for my charge, and a little after sunset entered the gates of the old, desolate-looking city of Panama, and stopped at a filthy hotel. I was never more rejoiced; I had left the last from Chagres, and arrived the first at Panama with all the incumbrance, and the gentlemen voted me a leather medal. The ship Columbus, Capt. McGowan, was in port. I put the family under his protection, feeling satisfied then I had done my duty. The town was infested with gamblers who quarrelled. I heard pistol shots in the room adjoining mine at four A.M. and presently a negro policeman in pursuit of some one, pistol in hand, marched through my room, from a balcony and down the stairs.
The transit of passengers to and from California had already changed the appearance of the decayed city. The American signs were a distinguishable feature, and the movements of animals with freight and passengers, on the arrival of steamers, gave some tokens of life. I waited for the steamer Panama, Capt. Watkins, which was to stop at many points on the coast, en route for San Francisco, coasting along Costa Rica, San Salvador, and Nicaragua, thereby breaking the monotony of the voyage. We had a passage of seven days to Acapulco, where we obtained coals, fruits, and such supplies as were necessary. The heat in the Isthmus was oppressive. Fever cases not numerous, though we had several on board. It was a relief to get ashore for a day at this Mexican town, and ramble over the hills looking down upon its beautiful bowl-formed harbor, surrounded by high volcanic country; I strolled through the poor bazaars, and under the big tree where the natives were selling their fruits and wares; it looked neat, clean, and refreshing in comparison with Panama. A short walk here in an orange grove, with the sight of a few cocoa-nut trees, is a happy change from a crowded ship.
The next point was San Blas en route to Tepic; much annoyed with sand-flies. Stopped next at Mazatlan, a rather pleasant town, pretty well built; called upon some Spanish Senoritas, who occupied a pretty house and garden, and regaled us with fruits, accompanied with good music upon the piano. Dined tolerably well at a French restaurant, at California prices. Our next landing-place was San Diego. After passing Cape St. Lucas and the Gulf of California, the Pacific Ocean is no more entitled to its name. Cold winds and heavy sea, and we suffered from the effects; all the way up to Mazatlan you could see the upper deck covered with hammocks and mattresses; I counted fifty persons stretched upon deck, but afterwards went below; there was scarcely room for the three hundred and fifty passengers. The Panama fever disappeared. We were getting short of coals on the passage, and took in thirty tons at the price of fifty dollars per ton, fifteen hundred dollars. Were obliged to pay three hundred dollars for three thousand pounds of potatoes, at ten cents per pound. I strolled up the mountain which separates the bay from the ocean, and procured wild flowers for the ladies on shipboard. The hills, covered with low undergrowths of bushes, reminded me of the heather of Scotland, with an abundance of quail. The mountain torrents have produced extraordinary formations. We next entered the harbor of Monterey, California, as the sun rose, and for the first time descried the mountains of the Sierra Nevada covered with snow. The contrast between the deep blue water, and the green woodlands, and verdant lawns in the distance, struck us with delight in the first rays of morning sun. We reached the harbor of San Francisco in twenty days from Panama. I was struck with the forest of masts, which exceeded my expectation. Went ashore in small boats; all life, bustle, and activity; city growing rapidly beyond all estimate; stopped at the Union Hotel, a large brick substantial building, the best hotel in the city. Charges, boat ashore, each two dollars; baggage porter, two dollars; hotel bill, board, daily seven dollars; wine, five dollars per bottle; blacking boots, twenty-five cents; refreshments, fifty cents per glass; cigars, twenty-five cents; washing, five dollars per dozen. You will perceive they are gold-dust prices.
At the first breakfast a lady passenger sat beside me whose husband was unwell. I saw a gentleman eating eggs, and ordered a couple; the lady concluded she would try them also. Presently the servant came with a card, saying that eggs were extra; of course politeness induced me to write for four; on inquiring afterwards I was told the price was fifty cents each; the landlord paid six dollars per dozen to accommodate travellers, and if any of the eggs were bad it was a dead-loss. A soirée was given by the boarders, and well attended by gentlemen; the few ladies in the city were present; a band of music was engaged; a magnificent supper provided, with fruits, ices, and champagne in profusion. While the party was engaged in the waltzes I stepped aside for reflection, and asked myself, “Is it actual or magical, when I am told where this house now stands two years since were only seen tents; and that now a large city is rising up where recently were fisher-huts, and all through the magical power of gold!”
It now appears that my suspicions of the natives on the Chagres river are verified, for I have learned that a boat’s company of six men, two women, and two children, who were on their way up with us, and whom we passed in the night, were murdered while asleep, and their bodies secreted in the bushes.
LV.
TRIPS TO BENECIA, SACRAMENTO, STOCKTON, CALEVARAS DIGGINGS, &c.
I took the steamer Wilson G. Hunt for two days and went up to Benecia, the pacific mail station, where I met my old friend Catherwood, and talked of Palestine matters. Rode out to Vallejo, the newly designed capital of California. The officers of the U.S. Barracks politely offered horses for the excursion; vast quantities of game, and immense number of cattle grazing in the neighborhood, but not a house yet erected, and doubtful if there will be. Crossed over to Martinez, and was amused at the horsemanship of the native Californian or Mexican race, who run their horses at full speed and bring them down suddenly on their haunches. Continued with next steamer to Sacramento up the river; streets muddy, from excessive rain; could not get in the country. The gambling-houses with bands of music in full blast; the miners crowding around with bags of gold, staking their all; the city building up rapidly; every variety of character to be found in this new country, good, bad, and indifferent. So much has been said by others it would be useless to enlarge. Expenses enormous; everybody employed at something. One young gentleman of New York was driving team at ten dollars per day; another, turned carpenter, was shingling a roof at the same wages; never drove a nail in his life until he came here, but necessity knows no law. A single crab costs fifty cents, equal to the price of an egg. With the tide of emigration these things will regulate themselves, and with more resources California will become one of the most productive States in the Union. Returned to San Francisco; took the steamer up San Pablo Bay, and the cut-off to Stockton, in company with a friend, the proprietor of a quartz-mine, in order to visit the gold district. Having procured a strong wagon and a pair of horses, india-rubber covers and blankets, a supply of barley for feed, off we started. The rain came down in torrents; stopped at a ranche and dried ourselves, drove to another, and passed the night in a double bed and mattress on the floor; sack wet through, clothing out to dry by a fire. Price, for horses and wagon twenty dollars per day; feed, each time twelve pounds of barley at two shillings, three dollars; meals a dollar and a half each. Next day rode to Cherokee Ranche; met a party of Americans, with arms in hand, in pursuit of Mexicans, near the Hawk’s Eye Ranche, and dared not stop, as they threatened the extermination of the Greasers, as they called the Mexicans. Passed a disagreeable night in a log-cabin. A vagabond of a fellow has just killed a Mexican in the woods near the cabin; the half-drunken scoundrel could not be turned out, and sat before a huge fire; the chimney of logs was carried up outside the rude hut. We lay in bunks upon our blankets and straw. I slept with one eye open, and my six-shooter in hand; finally at a late hour, in came a German in a red shirt and slouched hat, whom I soon recognised as being from Puerto Cabello. He told me, that in the war between Gen. Paez and Monagas he was obliged to fly. He was well connected, I had known his family, and it was a relief to meet him. Next day arrived at Carson’s Creek, having passed Calaveras Creek diggings, Angel’s Creek, and looked at the rocking-cradles and long toms of the miners, and passed through the villages of tents of the Mexicans who had deserted; met them on the road flying with their women, children, and donkeys.
The lassoing of a bull attracted my attention; the position of the horse, the shot, and falling of the animal, reminded me of the bull fights in Havana and Spain.
We finally arrived upon the summit of a high hill in a mountainous country; the valley filled with tents, and the earth thrown up by the diggers as by an earthquake. We lodged in an open cabin, built of staves rived out of the tree, without floor; a rude pine table; fried beef and potatoes, with coffee, and hot, hard, wheaten cakes was our food. The quartz rock produced abundantly. The opening, ten feet by seven, and ten feet in depth, had already produced the value of fifty thousand dollars. There were three casks in the cabin, headed up, full of quartz strongly charged with gold, besides sacks and bags. This important discovery was not yet known, otherwise it would have been dangerous; we were six persons sleeping upon straw, with a blazing fire, which gave light sufficient for an enemy to point through the opening anywhere, and kill the party. I felt anxious, and was glad to get away within three days. The operation of breaking the quartz was performed with rollers of stone drawn by mules; the more valuable pieces were broken with a pestle; some lumps weighed eight pounds. There were seven partners in this valuable claim. We came down with a quantity of the specimens, accompanied by Jack Hayes, the famous Texian ranger, who exhibited his skill with pistols in shooting the gopher, a little animal not unlike a ground mole. Ground squirrels abound in California, and are destructive to the crops. The scenery was at times magnificent; the thick heather, or undergrowth of the grizzly bear, in some parts is prominent. At one ranche the owner showed us some young cubs. There was some beautiful prairie country, capable of fine cultivation, and excellent grazing, which produces fine horses and horned cattle.
The wood-pecker provides for himself singularly in this country. I was struck with the mosaic appearance of some trees, and on examination found that this bird had bored holes in the thick bark, and set in the acorns for his winter’s supply. At one ranche the hogs, sheep, and cattle looked remarkably well. At another stopping point, the owner has a pet ram, who knew a Mexican at sight, and bucked him with his head; he had a perverted taste for an animal, and was very fond of tobacco. His owner had an inveterate hate for an Indian, who had killed a brother of his. The Indians are fast disappearing. I was glad to get back to San Francisco, to prepare for my Oregon trip.
1851.
LVI.
Oregon Territory, May 5, 1851.
By the powerful agency of ocean and river steamers, without disparagement to horse and mule force, I find myself transported from the southern mines of California, a distance of some nine hundred miles, and can scarcely realize that I am now writing in a log cabin of the Upper Willamette Valley, in which the first legislative committee of nine persons were sworn in office by the missionary (Rev. Jason Lee) after their election by a mass meeting of the early emigrants, in 1846, to decide if laws should be enacted for the territory. The interpreter, Dr. Newell, who is present, drove the first pair of oxen across the plains, and now occupies his claim of a mile square, or six hundred and forty acres.
After returning from the mines via Stockton, to San Francisco, I embarked with the ocean steamer Columbia for Astoria, and had the pleasure of meeting with an old friend, in the person of the Hon. Thomas Nelson, from Peekskill, recently appointed Chief Justice of Oregon, in company with the Surveyor General, J.B. Preston, and several ladies; among the number were five who came out from the States as school teachers, under the auspices of the Hon. Mr. Thurston, Delegate to Congress, who died at Acapulco, after having crossed the isthmus, and whose death creates a great sensation in the territory. He was a candidate for Member of Congress for the next term, against Gen. Lane, who now meets no opposition. We had an agreeable passage to the mouth of the Columbia, whose far-famed breakers troubled us but little, the weather being favorable. Cape Disappointment at the north, and Point Adams at the south, with its eight-mile entrance, scarcely showed us where lie hidden the frightful sand banks which have so long been the terror of the mariner.
Another hour brought us to Astoria, which lies under the mountain range with a dense forest in the rear, and is a miserable town, without comfort or convenience, just the reverse in short of what you would expect from the name of its founder, and the writings of Washington Irving. We found here a steamer which carried us to Vancouver, a distance of one hundred and ten miles up the Columbia, the river narrowing from Astoria, as you proceed up stream, down to a mile in width, and sometimes less. The shores are mostly high lands, and are covered with impenetrable forests of firs of the most gigantic growth. Vancouver is the military post, and we found here the Mounted Rifle Regiment; it is in a most desirable position, situated upon a beautiful rising plain in an old settled part of the country, the establishments of the Hudson Bay Company being located here, and well worth visiting. They are in an immense inclosure, picketed with piles thirty feet in height, and containing several acres, with block-houses and towers fortified, and inside are immense store-houses for goods, and the dwellings of the governor and employees. Six miles below this point is the mouth of the Willamette, which river we ascended twelve miles to Portland, nearly the head of navigation for three-masted vessels, where we take whale boats or bateaux to proceed to Oregon City, which lies below the falls.
We chartered a boat with six Indian oarsmen, and, as it had a windlass in the bow, and an immense coil of rope to fasten to the trees for hauling up the rapids, we proceeded well until night overtook us within two miles of the town, where the rush of water was too much for us. After making ineffectual efforts until nine o’clock, we abandoned all hope until morning unless we should find shelter in a log-cabin, there being one, we were told, on that side of the Clackamas river. We divided our party of gentlemen, leaving enough for the protection of eight ladies, and commenced pioneering through the dense forest, without the aid of a lantern, until we discovered the timber burning in clearing up the land, and found the log cabin, but our only success was the borrowing of a dug-out to cross the Clackamas and to try to get to town to procure whale boats. Judge Nelson, our guide, and myself squatted in the bottom of this egg-shell canoe, and were paddled across this turbulent stream. We got to town about midnight, worn down with fatigue, our boots and clothes torn from contact with fallen logs, and from crossing ravines; but we were too late to obtain assistance until morning, so the party were obliged to camp in the open boat. Having been recommended to Gen. Gaines, a noble-hearted Kentuckian, who has seen service in Mexico, now Governor of the Territory, I was invited to join him and meet the commissioners now in treaty with the Indians. Our route of twenty-five miles through dense forests, ravines, and cane-brakes, and over prairies and streams, was intensely exciting, and to one who had not had some experience in California and Texas, it would have been startling. I found here three tribes of Indians encamped upon the plain, and was not a little amused by their ball plays, their war and other dances around the camp fires in the evening, and their gambling games which are sometimes kept up noisily all night.
The Yam Hill and Lukamuke bands of the Callapooya tribes are rapidly diminishing in numbers by disease. The Molalla tribe are mostly horsemen and warriors, and are a fine-looking race. The commissioners have just succeeded in effecting treaties with two of the bands, which I was called upon to witness; and it was an interesting sight to see Governor Gaines, Judge Spencer, and Colonel Allen, opposite the three Indian chiefs belonging to each tribe, with the interpreter and secretary, in grave council, while in the interior of the log cabin and around the door were collected many of the tribe, anxiously zealous of their rights, and suspicious lest any one band should get more than the other. The commissary distributes daily the flesh of a bullock, with rations of potatoes, flour, and salt, and the camp fires are constantly smoking. Their horses are hobbled and grazing on the prairie and in the woods; occasionally they mount them, and dash over the plain with the speed of the wind. The distribution of blankets, calicoes, and various articles, will take place when they leave. By the treaties for sale of lands and removals, they are provided with agricultural implements, supplies of provisions and clothing, horses, and in some cases, log houses instead of tents which they now occupy. This is to continue for twenty years, which is liberal on the part of the government.
The French prairies, a few miles from here, are mostly settled by French Canadians, who were the early settlers, having been engaged in trapping. I found one who was with the first expedition of Astor, some forty years since, and who has now his family of half-breeds, and his mile square of land.
From this point we have travelled in the country on the opposite side of the river, and from the summits of the highest hills had some magnificent views of the mountains of St Helena, Hood, and Rainer, eternally covered with snow, and of the immense forest of firs and pines, intervening with prairie land, the whole forming a panorama of surpassing wildness and beauty.