“But aid was at hand, and the commander-in-chief would do injustice to his own feelings, and those of the men of his immediate command, if in the general order he did not acknowledge the services of the gallant volunteers of Oregon, who successfully met in arms in this valley the combined forces of the hostile Indians at the time he was moving from the Spokane to the Nez Perce country.”
On New Year’s Day, 1856, Governor Stevens started for the Dalles, accompanied only by his son, Pearson, Robie, the Nez Perce chief, Captain John, and the captive Ume-how-lish, and reached that point in three days and a half. The intense cold continued unabated. Every morning the little party saddled in the darkness and started at daylight without breakfast, pushed their horses at a speed of ten miles an hour for about six hours, making about sixty miles, and made camp early in the afternoon, giving the horses several hours to graze before dark, and themselves plenty of time to gather wood, build up a rousing fire, and cook and eat a tremendous meal, breakfast, dinner, and supper in one; then early to bed, sound slumbers, and off again at daylight. All the streams were crossed on the ice until the Des Chutes River was reached. Here was found a great gorge of broken ice twenty feet deep, through the centre of which the rapid and powerful stream had torn its way, a hundred yards wide, bordered by perpendicular walls of ice. Carefully leading their horses over the broken ice masses, they reached the usual fording-place, only to find the dark, swirling river sweeping past twenty feet below them at the foot of this perpendicular and impassable icy cliff, while a similar obstacle stared at them from the other side of the river, and barred exit from the stream even should its passage be accomplished. But, nothing daunted, all set to work with stakes and knives, and at length broke down a barely passable path to the ford. Captain John now led the way across, the water coming to the saddle-skirts; a practicable passage out was found, and all felt much relieved as they again spurred on.
Resting one day at the Dalles, and accompanied only by his son and a guide, the governor continued his journey by the trail down the Oregon side of the Columbia. It was a little-used track, barely passable, or indeed visible, in many places, jammed between the river and the foot of the great mountain masses and precipices which overhang that mighty and sublime gorge. Although the severe cold had abated, considerable snow had fallen, greatly increasing the dangers of the way; but he reached the lower Cascades without mishap, and crossed to the Washington side late in the evening of the second day, spending the intermediate night at Hood River, at the house of Mr. Coe. The next day he continued by land, passing in rear of Cape Horn, and reached a landing on the Columbia, six miles above Vancouver, soon after dark. Here a ship’s long-boat, a stout, staunch craft, with a good sail, was obtained, with a crew of three sturdy fellows. On getting well out in the river away from land, a terrific gale came tearing downstream, struck the boat, and drove her on at great speed. The sail was quickly reefed, but the little craft careened to the gunwale; the waves broke over her; only incessant bailing kept her afloat. The dark night, the tumultuous waves, the howling gale, the open boat tearing along with the helmsman braced against the tiller, the bailer dipping the water overboard with furious haste, and the rest of the party clinging to the upper rail with clenched grasp and tense faces, can never be forgotten by one who witnessed the scene. Vancouver was reached in twenty-six minutes from starting, and all landed with a strong feeling of relief at having escaped a watery grave.
The governor again endeavored to communicate with General Wool, and hastened to Portland to see him, but he had left on the steamer for San Francisco only the day before.
The journey up the Cowlitz in canoe and across the muddy road to Olympia was made in three days, without special incident to vary the monotony of toil and discomfort ever attending it at that season, and on January 19, after an absence of nearly nine months, the governor reached Olympia, and found himself once more at home with his family.
During the governor’s absence Mrs. Stevens, with her little girls and the nurse Ellen, spent several weeks on Whitby Island, at the home of a family named Crockett, in hopes that the stronger sea air of that locality would overcome the Panama fever, from which they were still suffering. The Crocketts were hearty and kindly Kentucky farmer folks of the best type, and received the sick lady and her children with warm-hearted hospitality and kindness. Mrs. Stevens with the children used frequently to bathe in the Sound, and on one occasion, as they were in the water, a band of northern Indians was observed approaching in their great war-canoes at rapid speed. Mr. Crockett hastened to the beach in great apprehension and hurried the bathers to the house, declaring that the predatory savages would be sure to seize and carry them off, if they were given an opportunity. Under the invigorating open-air life on the island and the excellent fare, with abundance of venison and other game, the family rapidly regained health, and after their visit returned in canoes to Olympia.
Mrs. Stevens afterward visited the military post at Steilacoom, and the wives of the officers there visited her in Olympia, and it was at her house that Mrs. Slaughter received news of the death of her husband, Lieutenant W.A. Slaughter, who was killed by the Indians, December 5. Several times, after the war broke out, circumstantial and apparently trustworthy reports were brought of the massacre of the governor and his party by the Indians, all of which Mrs. Stevens utterly disbelieved. She scouted even more decidedly the idea that he would return by way of the Missouri and Isthmus of Panama, which his friends were so strongly urging him to do, and declared to them that he would certainly come back by the direct route, no matter what obstacles might intervene.
CHAPTER XXXVII
PROSTRATION.—THE RESCUE
When Governor Stevens, after his midwinter forced march across the mountains, reached Olympia, he found the whole country utterly prostrated, overwhelmed. The settlers in dismay had abandoned their farms and fled for refuge to the few small villages. They were all poor, having no reserves of money, food, or supplies, and starvation stared them in the face if prevented from planting and raising a crop. The only military post on Puget Sound, Fort Steilacoom, could muster less than a hundred soldiers, and was so far from protecting the settlers that it had called for and received the reinforcement of a company of volunteers for its own protection. The post at Vancouver was also but a handful in strength, and had also been reinforced by two companies of volunteers. But even this pitiful force was not to be used against the savage enemy; for Wool had just gone back to San Francisco after a flying visit to the Columbia River, during which he had disbanded the volunteer companies, refused to take any active measures to protect the people, and loudly proclaimed, both in official reports and through the press, that the war had been forced upon the Indians by the greed and brutality of the whites, and that the former would be peaceful if only let alone and not treated with injustice.