Some of the partners were to go by the Tonquin. These were all British subjects, Scotchmen. There were, besides, mechanics, and thirteen voyageurs, the latter coming down from Canada in a birch-bark canoe by way of Lake Champlain and the Hudson, singing gaily as they came. Could they have foreseen the future, the song would have died in their throats. Of all the expeditions ever set on foot, this one, perhaps, met with the most continuous disaster. Although well planned, the Fates appeared to be opposed in this direction to Astor's success. The British had an eye on it and intended to baulk it if they could. For one thing they meant to stop the Tonquin and impress the voyageurs, which they thought would cripple the enterprise. The Constitution, the ship soon to make its name forever famous, was sent for some distance as a convoy, but nothing happened except that the voyageurs became seasick, and the foreign partners and Captain Thorn failed to harmonise. Thorn looked upon them with suspicion, and did not conceal his opinion that they were working against the company's interests. He particularly disliked McDougall who was next to Hunt in authority.
Thorn was a capable officer on the high seas, and he sailed the Tonquin successfully from the starting day, September 10, 1810, to that on which he arrived at the mouth of the Columbia, March 22, 1811. Then he seems to have lost his caution. Instead of lying off to wait for favourable weather to run the breakers, he immediately ordered chief mate Fox, a seaman, John Martin, and three voyageurs, notwithstanding Fox's protest and that of the partners, to reconnoitre the entrance in a small boat. They were never seen again. The wind abating, two days later the ship anchored under Cape Disappointment. Search was made for the missing men, but with no result. The Tonquin then approached the bar, but the captain was afraid to run through, and sent the second mate in the pinnace to pilot the way. He was nearly lost. Another attempt was made, but the ship struck on the bar repeatedly, and the waves broke over her. The pinnace, which had again attempted to pilot, was swept away with five men on board, while the ship, in great danger of complete wreck, came to anchor in seven fathoms. At last they got under Cape Disappointment once more, and were safe. On searching the coast for the lost men of the pinnace, only two were found. Thus eight lives were sacrificed to the bull-headedness of this crusty captain. It was a full measure of what was in store for the ill-fated enterprise. Had Thorn used a small amount of common sense, he could have passed the bar without losing a man.
At length the Tonquin was inside, and after much wrangling between the captain and the foreign partners, a settlement was begun on what they called Point George. To this the name Astoria was given in honour of the head of the company. When the supplies had been landed, the Tonquin went up the coast to trade, with McKay to direct. Against the advice of the interpreter, a native from down the coast, they anchored in Neweetee Bay on the southern end of Vancouver Island. McKay went ashore and was well received, for six natives were held on board as hostages. The people of this bay had a bad reputation, which perhaps means that they saw through the game of the traders. Great numbers came the following morning to trade and as they sought high prices, doubtless one per cent. of real value, Thorn grew angry and threw the chief overboard. When McKay returned, the interpreter urged immediate departure, but Thorn scorned his advice. Astor had particularly instructed not to allow many natives on board at one time, but this was ignored. Next morning they came again with their furs; canoe after canoe arrived till the deck was thronged. The captain saw indications of trouble. He ordered men aloft to make sail while others weighed anchor. The natives were eager to trade, especially for knives, and they quickly obtained a great many, so that when the command was given to clear ship, they uttered a yell and fell upon the unprepared crew.
Sawmill Geyser, Yellowstone Park.
From Wonderland, 1904—Northern Pacific Railway.
Thorn fought desperately, for he was no coward, and though he had only a clasp knife, he killed several before a blow from behind laid him low forever. Four of the men aloft succeeded in gaining the cabin alive and speedily cleared the deck with the muskets that were there. All the rest of the day the natives kept off. The ship's clerk, Lewis, was one of the first struck, and he had fallen down the hatchway with a serious wound. He recovered sufficiently to discuss the situation with the four other survivors. The latter would not attempt to sail the ship, as they thought they could not get her out of the bay, so they put off in the night in one of the boats. Lewis, it is said, declined to go on account of his wound, thinking he would die soon anyhow. He therefore made a plan for revenge. He arranged the powder so that he could instantly explode it, and when the fair morning sun again shone on the bay he stood on the deck and beckoned to some natives to come aboard. As he was the only one to be seen, they finally climbed up the Tonquin's sides. The decks were presently again thickly crowded, all eager to secure the rich prizes. At this moment Lewis executed his intention. The waters of the bay were strewn with wreckage intermingled with dead and dying. A hundred or more were annihilated and another grewsome tale was added to the long list describing the intercourse between the opposing factions for the mastery of the Wilderness. The four men were prevented from leaving the bay by stress of weather, and took refuge in a cove for shelter, where they were captured and taken back to the village. They were sacrificed with every cruelty known to the enraged natives. Thus ended the first trading venture of the Pacific Fur Company.
Before the Tonquin left Astoria, the party arrived from the upper Columbia under command of David Thompson of the North-west Company,—the expedition designed to forestall the American settlement at this point, but it was a little too late. Thompson had accomplished the first descent of the Columbia above Snake River. He was well received by his compatriots, especially by McDougall, who was in charge pending Hunt's arrival. McDougall did not conceal his devotion to the British Crown, and it was this which so exasperated Captain Thorn. Thompson finally left, returning by the road he had come. He was astronomer and geographer of the North-west Company, and made notes that are of great value.[77]