The thoughts of these men—for they were men—must have been very comforting at the prospect of promises being at last fulfilled. Many years had passed, waiting, waiting, waiting for the time to come when they should have homes “like white men.” They well understood the arrangement in regard to the amount of land that was to be given to each. I have not the “Willamette Treaty” before me, but, from memory, state, that each grown person was to have twenty acres, with ten acres additional for each minor child.
Col. Thompson, the surveyor, relates, that while engaged in surveying near the house of a “Wapto” Indian, said Indian came to him with a very serious face, and requested the suspension of the work. The colonel, being a humorous man, and patient withal, entertained the petition, but demanded to know the reason why the survey should stop.
“Wapto” said, in jargon, “Indian Neeseka-nan-itch-mi-ka, is-cum, twenty acres; Nika cluchman is-cum, twenty acres; Ni-ka ten-us-cluchman is-cum, ten acres; Nika ten-us-man is-cum, ten acres; Ma-mook, sixty acres; Al-ka. You see I get twenty acres, my squaw get twenty acres, my daughter get ten acres, my son get ten acres, making sixty acres in all. Spose Mesika Capit mamook icta elihe, Kau-yua nika is cum, seventy acres. Suppose you stop surveying, and wait awhile, I can get seventy acres, may be eighty acres. Cum-tux,—understand?”
The colonel took the hint, when the Indian pointed to the small lodge, fitted up expressly, as the custom among these people is, for important occasions of the kind intimated above.
Whether he changed his course in surveying, he did not say, but went on to relate, that a few days after the above conversation, the same Indian came to him and said, “Nika-is-cum, Ten-is-man”—“I have another boy.”—“Klat-a-wa-ma-mook-elihe”—“Go on with the survey.”—“Nika is-cum, seventy acres”—“I get seventy acres.” He seemed much elated with the new boy, and the additional ten acres of land.
The surveying was completed, but “red tape” was in the way of allotment, much to the satisfaction of some of the people, who were hoping for as good fortune
as “Wapto,” in the same way; others, who were hopeless of such luck, were anxious for the lands to be set apart at once, because each new-comer made the chances less in securing good homes, by being crowded of to make room for the additions that such events demanded.
The allotment has finally been made. The people are overjoyed, and they start off on this new order of life with commendable zeal. I have no doubt of their ability to maintain themselves, when they shall have been admitted to the new relationships in life. While they have been long in bondage, treated as dependents, and begrudged the valley wherein they have been placed by the Government, they have, nevertheless, attained to a status of manhood that entitles them to consideration. They fully appreciate such evidences of recognition, and should be consulted in regard to the expenditure of their funds, the appointment of agents and employés, the selection of church ministries and school teachers.
During one of my official visits they assembled to the number of nearly one hundred, and paraded on horseback, for a grand demonstration. They were well dressed, and well mounted on good horses. After performing various evolutions, they drew up in front of the agency office in a half circle. The leader then made a speech, a portion of which I copy here, from the memoranda made at that time. It was in American language, and began, “Mr. Meacham: You our chief. We look on you as our father. We show you how we get along. We think we white men now. We no Injuns now. We all Republicans. We know ’bout the big war. We no Democrats.
One man he live with me—he Democrat—us boys all laugh. He get shamed; he good ‘publican now. These all our horses, we work for ’em. S’pose you want us work road, all right; s’pose you tell us pay the tax, all right. Sometime we vote just like a white man. All right. S’pose the President want soldier, we are white men; we know all about everything; we can fight. We are not boys; we know about law. That’s all right.