Mr. M‘Kay had figured in the north-west as an Indian trader—was very active, but whimsical and eccentric. An anecdote will picture the man:—It is a habit among the grandees of the Indian trade to have May-poles with their names inscribed thereon on conspicuous places, not to dance round, but merely to denote that such a person passed there on such a day, or to commemorate some event. For this purpose, the tallest tree on the highest ground is generally selected, and all the branches are stripped off excepting a small tuft at the top.
On Mr. M‘Kay’s return from his reconnoitring {79} expedition up the river, he ordered one of his men to climb a lofty tree and dress it for a May-pole. The man very willingly undertook the job, expecting, as usual on these occasions, to get a dram; but he had no sooner reached the top than his master, through love of mischief, lighting a fire at the bottom, set the tree in a blaze. The poor fellow was instantly enveloped in a cloud of smoke, and called out for mercy. Water was dashed on the tree; but this only increased the danger by augmenting the smoke, for the fire ran up the bark of the gummy pine like gunpowder, and was soon beyond our reach, so that all hope of saving the man’s life was at an end. Descending a little, however, he leaped, in despair, on to a branch of another tree, which fortunately offered him a chance of safety; and there he hung between earth and heaven, like a squirrel on a twig, till another man, at no small risk, got up and rescued him from his perilous situation.
Soon after M‘Kay’s return from the cascades, Mr. Robert Stuart, myself, and five men, proceeded on an excursion to the north. It was here that we became fully acquainted with the dangerous effects of the Chinooke policy. The Indians, on our approach, flew to arms, and made signs for us to keep at a distance. We halted, and tried to moderate their ferocity by a display of presents; but they would not listen to us. Their forces were collecting fast; every moment’s delay increased our danger; and, fearful of being surrounded, we were deliberating on a hasty {80} retreat, when, fortunately, a friendly Indian happened to arrive, by means of whom we got into conversation with the others; and the result was, that they explained and cleared up the matter to our utmost satisfaction, and showed us several piles of furs laid up in store waiting the Chinooke traders; but when they saw and compared the prices we paid with that which the Chinookes were in the habit of giving them, they put their hands on their mouths in astonishment, and strongly urged us to return again, saying they would never more trade with the one-eyed chief. We got back again to the establishment on the fifteenth day; yet, notwithstanding the apparent friendly impression we had made on these sordid and treacherous rogues, we had a very narrow escape in crossing one of the rivers—for a party of them had got before us, taken up a strong position on the opposite bank, and disputed the passage; but, by a little manœuvring, we defeated their intentions. Soon afterwards, however, one of our men was killed by them; and on another occasion, a Mr. M‘Kenzie and his whole party, consisting of eight men, were cut to pieces by them.
But we shall now return, for a moment, to notice what was going on at the establishment. On the fourth day after our landing, we planted some potatoes and sowed a few garden seeds, and on the 16th of May we laid the foundations of our first building; but in order to procure suitable timber for the purpose, we had to go back some distance—the wood on {81} the site being so large and unmanageable; and for want of cattle to haul it, we had to carry it on our shoulders, or drag it along the ground—a task of no ordinary difficulty. For this purpose, eight men were harnessed, and they conveyed in six days all the timber required for a building or store of sixty feet long by twenty-six broad. On the 18th, as soon as the foundation was completed, the establishment was named Astoria, in honour of Astor, the projector of the enterprise.
The Tonquin, in the prosecution of her voyage along the coast, left Astoria on the 1st of June, and crossed the bar on the 5th, when we saw her for the last time. The captain had landed but a small part of the cargo, intending on his return to put the rest on shore; but with his ship all was lost, and Astoria, in consequence, was left almost destitute of the necessary articles of trade. Mr. M‘Kay, as supercargo, went on board with Mr. Lewis and two Canadians; but Mr. Mumford, the second officer, was dismissed and sent on shore. On M‘Kay’s embarking, he called me aside, and taking me by the hand recommended his son to my care; then adding—“You see,” said he, “how unfortunate we are: the captain, in one of his frantic fits, has now discharged the only officer on board,” alluding to Mr. Mumford. “If you ever see us safe back, it will be a miracle.” So saying, we parted, and he slept on board. The departure of the ship unfolded to us the danger of our situation. It is allowed by all experienced fur traders, {82} that in forming an establishment among savages, the first consideration is safety; and although we had been aware that the ship’s stay protected the embryo settlement, and that her departure would proclaim to all the hostile tribes around our defenceless state, yet was there any preparation made for the event?—None. When the ship left us, not a gun was mounted; not a palisade raised; nor the least precaution taken to secure either life or property. Such was the character of the man whom Mr. Astor placed at the head of his affairs.
The Indians from all quarters now began to assemble in such swarms, that we had to relinquish all labour, and think only of defence. We naturally put the worst construction on so formidable an array of savages in arms. On the other hand, the arrival of the different tribes might have been produced by the steps we had lately taken in regard to the Chinooke policy, of assuring them of our friendly intentions; but the departure of the ship had left us so powerless and weak, that we could not help suspecting their intentions; and our suspicion was strengthened by the absence of Comecomly and his people, who had avoided coming near us ever since the arrival of the strangers. We had frequently sent for the crafty chief, but he as frequently disappointed us, until he was given to understand that a large present would be the reward of his good offices in the present emergency, for we had reason to believe that now, as on former occasions, he was very {83} busy in labouring to conceal the truth, or, in other words, sowing the seeds of alienation, in order that he and his people might as usual engross all the foreign trade themselves.
At length Comecomly arrived; necessity compelled us to dissemble our opinion of his conduct: he was received with open arms, behaved well, and rendered us essential services. We now opened a friendly intercourse with the strangers; traded with each tribe in turn; made some presents; and they left us, apparently well satisfied with the friendly reception they had experienced, while we were no less agreeably relieved by their departure. The guard was reduced, and the people set to work as usual. Comecomly and his two sons received each a suit of chief’s clothing; nor did they omit to insinuate, that to their influence and good offices we not only owed our safety, but were indebted for all the furs obtained from our distant visitors.
Some days afterwards, however, an awkward circumstance took place, which threatened to involve us again in serious troubles. While in the act of removing some leaf tobacco, an Indian was detected in the act of pilfering—for they are notorious thieves; the tobacco was taken from him, and he was reprimanded for his conduct. “What!” said the fellow, indignantly, “do you say I am a thief?” at the same time drawing his bow. M‘Dougall then ordered him to be hand-cuffed and imprisoned, with a sentinel over him, in one of the deep but open pits, out of {84} which a large tree had been dug. In the night, however, he contrived to effect his escape, carrying off not only his irons, but the sentinel’s gun along with him. Next day Comecomly, accompanied by a large retinue, arrived at Astoria; the great mufti, as usual, was ushered into the tent of state. Here M‘Dougall was showing the Chinooke Tye-yea, among other things, the properties of a blunderbuss, and in so doing made a woful blunder, for off went the piece unexpectedly, shattering a corner of his majesty’s robe. The report and the dense smoke issuing from the place proclaimed danger, and the affrighted chief, darting out of the tent without his robe, cap, or gun, began calling to his people, who in a moment, giving the war-whoop and arming themselves, fiercely menaced the whites with destruction. In the mean time one of our sentinels, hearing the report of the gun, and seeing the tent enveloped in a cloud of smoke, and the chief running off at full speed from it, supposed that he had murdered M‘Dougall, and fired after him, calling out treason! murder! at the sound of which our people flew to arms; and every man, with his finger on the trigger of his gun, advanced to the spot. M‘Dougall and myself, who fortunately knew the circumstances, hastened to run in between the hostile ranks, making signs of peace, and after a tumultuous moment, the mysterious affair was explained without bloodshed; yet long afterwards the chief retained some suspicion that a plot had been formed against his life.
{85} Among the many visitors who every now and then presented themselves, were two strange Indians, in the character of man and wife, from the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains, and who may probably figure in our narrative hereafter. The husband, named Ko-come-ne-pe-ca, was a very shrewd and intelligent Indian, who addressed us in the Algonquin language, and gave us much information respecting the interior of the country.
On the 15th of July, we were rather surprised at the unexpected arrival of a north-west proprietor at Astoria, and still more so at the free and cordial reception given to an opponent. Mr. Thompson, north-west-like, came dashing down the Columbia in a light canoe, manned with eight Iroquois and an interpreter, chiefly men from the vicinity of Montreal. M‘Dougall received him like a brother; nothing was too good for Mr. Thompson; he had access everywhere; saw and examined everything; and whatever he asked for he got, as if he had been one of ourselves. Mr. Thompson at once recognised the two strange Indians, and gave us to understand that they were both females. His own visit had evidently no other object but to discourage us—a manœuvre of the North-West policy to extend their own trade at the expense of ours; but he failed. The dangers and difficulties, which he took great pains to paint in their worst colours, did not deter us. He forgot that in speaking to us, he was speaking to north-westerns—men as experienced and as cunning as himself. The {86} North-West had penetrated to the west side of the mountains as early as 1804, and had in 1811 two or three small posts on the waters of the Columbia, exclusive of the New Caledonia quarter. Every one knew this, and knowing it, how could we account for the more than warm and unreserved welcome Mr. Thompson met with from Astor’s representative. Unless, as some thought at the time, M‘Dougall was trying to pay Mr. Thompson back with his own coin, by putting on a fair face, so as to dupe him into an avowal of his real object. This is more than probable, for in point of acuteness, duplicity, and diplomatic craft, they were perhaps well matched.