The main camp of the Indians is situated at the head of the narrows, and may contain, during the salmon season, 3,000 souls, or more; but the constant inhabitants of the place do not exceed 100 {118} persons, and are called Wy-am-pams;[[32]] the rest are all foreigners from different tribes throughout the country, who resort hither, not for the purpose of catching salmon, but chiefly for gambling and speculation; for trade and traffic, not in fish, but in other articles; for the Indians of the plains seldom eat fish, and those of the sea-coast sell, but never buy fish. Fish is their own staple commodity. The articles of traffic brought to this place by the Indians of the interior are generally horses, buffalo-robes, and native tobacco, which they exchange with the natives of the sea-coast and other tribes, for the higua beads and other trinkets. But the natives of the coast seldom come up thus far. Now all these articles generally change hands through gambling, which alone draws so many vagabonds together at this place; because they are always sure to live well here, whereas no other place on the Columbia could support so many people together. The long narrows, therefore, is the great emporium or mart of the Columbia, and the general theatre of gambling and roguery.
We saw great quantities of fish everywhere; but what were they among so many: we could scarcely get a score of salmon to buy. For every fisherman there are fifty idlers, and all the fish caught are generally devoured on the spot; so that the natives of the place can seldom lay up their winter stock until the gambling season is over, and their troublesome visitors gone. All the gamblers, horse-stealers, {119} and other outcasts throughout the country, for hundreds of miles round, make this place their great rendezvous during summer.
The narrows by water are not a great deal longer than the portage by land. At the upper end, during low water, a broad and flat ledge of rocks bars the whole river across, leaving only a small opening or portal, not exceeding forty feet, on the left side, through which the whole body of water must pass. Through this gap it rushes with great impetuosity; the foaming surges dash through the rocks with terrific violence; no craft, either large or small, can venture there in safety. During floods, this obstruction, or ledge of rocks, is covered with water, yet the passage of the narrows is not thereby improved. Immediately above the rocks, the river resembles a small still lake, with scarcely any current.
The general aspect of the country around the long narrows cannot be called agreeable; the place is lone, gloomy, and the surface rugged, barren, and rocky; yet it is cheering in comparison with the dense forests which darken the banks of the river to this place. At the foot of the narrows the whole face of nature is changed, like night into day. There the woody country ceases on both sides of the river at once, and abruptly; the open and barren plains begin. The contrast is sudden, striking, and remarkable. Distance from the cascades to this place seventy miles.
The great bend or elbow of the Columbia is {120} formed by the long narrows: here, on the west side, terminates that long, high, and irregular chain of mountains which lie parallel to the coast, dividing the waters which flow into the Pacific on the west, from those running into the Columbia on the east. This range abounds in beaver and elk, and is often frequented by the industrious hunter. At the Indian tents we saw several small packages of beaver, but we purchased none, our canoes being too small; and, besides, they will always find their way to Astoria. We have all along, however, impressed on the natives the object of our visit to their country, and the value of beaver.
The Indians have been more troublesome, more importunate and forward to-day than at any time since our arrival among them. They often expressed a wish to see what we had in our bales and boxes. The chiefs also gave us to understand that their good offices merited a reward, and they could not comprehend why people who had so much as we were not more liberal. We endeavoured to satisfy their demands, and towards evening the chiefs were invited to sleep in our camp; but for us there was no sleep: there is no rest for the wicked.
{121} CHAPTER VIII
Columbia Falls—A canoe swamped—Suspicious behaviour of the Indians—Stratagem—Umatallow—Walla Walla—Great body of Indians—Harangues—Indian ceremonies—The great forks—Difference in the waters—Length of the forks—The British flag—Mr. Thompson’s design—Indian ideas—Salmon—European articles—Tummatapam—Departure from the Forks—Indian honesty—Eyakema—Marl hills—Dead children—Superstitions—Priest’s Rapid—Rattlesnakes—Appearance of the country—Kewaughchen—Perilous situation of a canoe—The two sisters——The old Indian—Hunting party—Horses—The priest—Piss-cows—Sopa—Great assemblage of Indians—The comet—Oakinacken—Distance from Astoria—Indian council—Resolve to winter—Some account of the place—The stolen watch—The priest dismissed—Voyage concluded—The two strangers—First building—Division of the party—Lonely winter—The lost party—Indian trade—Mr. Stuart’s adventures.
On the 5th of August, early in the morning, after making the chiefs a few presents, we proceeded, and had the singular good luck to get off with the loss of only one paddle. As we left the beach, the sullen savages crowded to the water’s edge, and in silence stood and gazed at us, as if reproaching themselves for their forbearance. As we proceeded, the banks {122} of the river were literally lined with Indians. Having ascended about seven miles, we arrived at the falls—the great Columbia Falls, as they are generally called; but, from the high floods this year, they were scarcely perceptible, and we passed them without ever getting out of our canoes. In seasons of low water, however, the break or fall is about twenty feet high, and runs across the whole breadth of the river, in an oblique direction. The face of the country about this place is bare, rugged, and rocky, and, to our annoyance, every point was swarming with Indians, all as anxious to get to us as we were to avoid them. Our exertions, and the want of sleep for the last three nights in succession, almost stupefied us, and we were the more anxious to find some quiet resting-place for the night. We halted a short distance above the falls, and there encamped. The current was strong, and rapid the whole of this day. Course, north.
On the 6th, after passing a comfortless and almost sleepless night, owing to the crowd of Indians that had collected about us, we were on the water again before sunrise, stemming a strong and rapid current. About a mile from our last encampment, and opposite to a rocky island, the river Lowhum enters the Columbia on the east side.[[33]] Its breadth is considerable, but the depth of water at its mouth is scarcely sufficient to float an Indian canoe, and over the rocky bottom it made a noise like thunder. Proceeding from this place, we observed, a short distance ahead, {123} a very large camp of Indians, and in order to avoid them we crossed over towards the left shore; but found the current so powerful, that we had to lay our paddles aside and take to the lines. In this rather dangerous operation, we had frequently to scramble up among the rocks. Soon after, a few Indians volunteered their services to help us, and we found them very useful; but one of them, while conducting the line round a rock, endeavoured to cut it with a stone; he was detected, however, in the act, and just in time to prevent accident. Had the villain succeeded, not only the goods, but in all likelihood some lives would have been lost. The wind springing up, we hoisted sail; but found the experiment dangerous, owing to the rapidity of the current. We encamped at a late hour without seeing a single Indian. Course as yesterday.