At Fort Okanagan the expedition passed on, leaving Ross behind in charge of the post. He was now in a prairie country where horses were absolutely essential to travel, and no horses were to be had nearer than Eyakema valley, two hundred miles away, where the horse Indians, Cayuses, Nez Percés, and other warlike tribes encamped each spring, to collect the roots of the camas. Here horses were plenty, but, as it was a great camp occupied by many different tribes, to visit it was to incur some danger. However, Ross took a few trade goods and set out with three men, young McKay and two French Canadians, these last taking with them their Indian wives, to assist in the care of the horses.
It was an anxious time, and the perplexities of the journey were not lessened when, on the fourth night after leaving Okanagan, the chief of the Pisscows tribe, who had learned where Ross was going, sent two men to urge him to turn back, declaring that if they did not do so they were all dead men. However, Ross determined to go on; as he puts it, “I had risked my life there for the Americans, I could now do no less for the North-West Company; so with deep regret the friendly couriers left us and returned, and with no less reluctance we proceeded.”
On the sixth day after leaving the fort they reached the valley, where they found a great camp, of which they could see the beginning, but not the end. It must have contained not less than 3,000 men, exclusive of women and children, and three times that number of horses. Everywhere was seen the active life of these primitive people. Councils were being held, women were gathering roots, men were hunting. Horse racing, games, singing, dancing, drumming, yelling, and a thousand other things were going on. The noise and confusion are hardly to be described; but the interest and the beauty of the scene could not have been appreciated by these men, who were carrying their lives in their hands and marching into danger.
“Our reception was cool, the chiefs were hostile and sullen, they saluted us in no very flattering accents. ‘These are the men,’ said they, ‘who kill our relations, the people who have caused us to mourn.’ And here, for the first time, I regretted we had not taken advice in time, and returned with the couriers, for the general aspect of things was against us. It was evident we stood on slippery ground; we felt our weakness. In all sudden and unexpected rencontres with hostile Indians, the first impulse is generally a tremor or sensation of fear, but that soon wears off; it was so with myself at this moment, for after a short interval I nerved myself to encounter the worst.
“The moment we dismounted, we were surrounded, and the savages, giving two or three war-whoops and yells, drove the animals we had ridden out of our sight; this of itself was a hostile movement. We had to judge from appearances, and be guided by circumstances. My first care was to try and direct their attention to something new, and to get rid of the temptation there was to dispose of my goods; so without a moment’s delay, I commenced a trade in horses; but every horse I bought during that and the following day, as well as those we had brought with us, were instantly driven out of sight, in the midst of yelling and jeering: nevertheless, I continued to trade while an article remained, putting the best face on things I could, and taking no notice of their conduct, as no insult or violence had as yet been offered to ourselves personally. Two days and nights had now elapsed since our arrival, without food or sleep; the Indians refused us the former, our own anxiety deprived us of the latter.
“During the third day I discovered that the two women were to have been either killed or taken from us and made slaves. So surrounded were we for miles on every side, that we could not stir unobserved; yet we had to devise some means for their escape, and to get them clear of the camp was a task of no ordinary difficulty and danger. In this critical conjuncture, however, something had to be done, and that without delay. One of them had a child at the breast, which increased the difficulty. To attempt sending them back by the road they came, would have been sacrificing them. To attempt an unknown path through the rugged mountains, however doubtful the issue, appeared the only prospect that held out a glimpse of hope; therefore, to this mode of escape I directed their attention. As soon as it was dark, they set out on their forlorn adventure without food, guide, or protection, to make their way home, under a kind Providence!
“‘You are to proceed,’ said I to them, ‘due north, cross the mountains, and keep in that direction till you fall on the Pisscows River; take the first canoe you find, and proceed with all diligence down to the mouth of it and there await our arrival. But if we are not there on the fourth day, you may proceed to Oakanagan, and tell your story.’ With these instructions we parted; and with but little hopes of our ever meeting again. I had no sooner set about getting the women off, than the husbands expressed a wish to accompany them; the desire was natural, yet I had to oppose it. This state of things distracted my attention: my eyes had now to be on my own people as well as on the Indians, as I was apprehensive they would desert. ‘There is no hope for the women by going alone,’ said the husbands, ‘no hope for us by remaining here: we might as well be killed in the attempt to escape, as remain to be killed here,’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘by remaining here we do our duty; by going we should be deserting our duty.’ To this remonstrance they made no reply. The Indians soon perceived that they had been outwitted. They turned over our baggage, and searched in every hole and corner. Disappointment creates ill humor: it was so with the Indians. They took the men’s guns out of their hands, fired them off at their feet, and then, with savage laughter, laid them down again; took their hats off their heads, and after strutting about with these for some time, jeeringly gave them back to their owners: all this time, they never interfered with me, but I felt that every insult offered to my men was an indirect insult offered to myself.
“The day after the women went off, I ordered one of the men to try and cook something for us; for hitherto we had eaten nothing since our arrival, except a few raw roots which we managed to get unobserved. But the kettle was no sooner on the fire than five or six spears bore off, in savage triumph, the contents: they even emptied out the water, and threw the kettle on one side; and this was no sooner done than thirty or forty ill-favored wretches fired a volley in the embers before us, which caused a cloud of smoke and ashes to ascend, darkening the air around us: a strong hint not to put the kettle any more on the fire, and we took it.
“At this time the man who had put the kettle on the fire took the knife with which he had cut the venison to lay it by, when one of the Indians, called Eyacktana, a bold and turbulent chief, snatched it out of his hand; the man, in an angry tone, demanded his knife, saying to me, ‘I’ll have my knife from the villain, life or death.’ ‘No,’ said I. The chief, seeing the man angry, threw down his robe, and grasping the knife in his fist, with the point downwards, raised his arm, making a motion in advance as if he intended using it. The crisis had now arrived! At this moment there was a dead silence. The Indians were flocking in from all quarters: a dense crowd surrounded us. Not a moment was to be lost; delay would be fatal, and nothing now seemed to remain for us but to sell our lives as dearly as possible. With this impression, grasping a pistol, I advanced a step towards the villain who held the knife, with the full determination of putting an end to his career before any of us should fall; but while in the act of lifting my foot and moving my arm, a second idea floated across my mind, admonishing me to soothe, and not provoke, the Indians, that Providence might yet make a way for us to escape: this thought saved the Indian’s life, and ours too. Instead of drawing the pistol, as I intended, I took a knife from my belt, such as travellers generally use in this country, and presented it to him, saying, ‘Here, my friend, is a chief’s knife, I give it to you; that is not a chief’s knife, give it back to the man.’ Fortunately, he took mine in his hand; but, still sullen and savage, he said nothing. The moment was a critical one; our fate hung as by a thread: I shall never forget it! All the bystanders had their eyes now fixed on the chief, thoughtful and silent as he stood; we also stood motionless, not knowing what a moment might bring forth. At last the savage handed the man his knife, and turning mine round and round for some time in his hand, turned to his people, holding up the knife in his hand, exclaimed, ‘She-augh Me-yokat Waltz’—Look, my friends, at the chief’s knife: these words he repeated over and over again. He was delighted. The Indians flocked round him: all admired the toy, and in the excess of his joy he harangued the multitude in our favour. Fickle, indeed, are savages! They were now no longer enemies, but friends! Several others, following Eyacktana’s example, harangued in turn, all in favour of the whites. This done, the great men squatted themselves down, the pipe of peace was called for, and while it was going round and round the smoking circle, I gave each of the six principal chiefs a small paper-cased looking-glass and a little vermilion, as a present; and in return, they presented me with two horses and twelve beavers, while the women soon brought us a variety of eatables.
“This sudden change regulated my movements. Indeed, I might say the battle was won. I now made a speech to them in turn, and, as many of them understood the language I spoke, I asked them what I should say to the great white chief when I got home, when he asks me where are all the horses I bought from you. What shall I say to him? At this question it was easy to see that their pride was touched. ‘Tell him,’ said Eyacktana, ‘that we have but one mouth, and one word; all the horses you have bought from us are yours, they shall be delivered up.’ This was just what I wanted. After a little counselling among themselves, Eyacktana was the first to speak, and he undertook to see them collected.