The governor now ordered the company of volunteers to march for the Dalles the next morning, and made a requisition on Colonel Steptoe for the presence of two companies of troops on the council ground, stating that the Cuyuses had all come in, and, as the volunteers were about to leave, it was essential to have a force on the ground to control the Indians. Incredible as it may seem, Steptoe refused, giving several lame excuses, and his real reason in the following pregnant sentence: “And permit me to say that my instructions from General Wool do not authorize me to make any arrangements whatever of the kind you wish.” As the governor requested no arrangements except that a regular force should camp near him to protect his council ground and show the Indians “the unity of our councils,” as he bore the President’s commission, and was charged by the government with the care of the Indians, this act shows to what length the malignity of Wool and the prejudices of a somewhat weak though well-meaning officer could extend. The fact was that these regular officers had idealized the Indians, accepting as true the falsehood of Kam-i-ah-kan, sympathized with the savages, and were “down” on the settlers and volunteers.

The governor learned for the first time from this note that Steptoe had moved his camp so far away, for he had taken it for granted that that officer had encamped near by. Therefore he retained Goff’s company of only sixty-nine men for the protection of the council, countermanding the order for it to march below in the morning. A portion of it was already one day’s march on their way down, but was immediately brought back.

The council was duly opened the next day, September 11, the chiefs of the Nez Perce, Cuyuse, Umatilla, John Day, and Des Chutes Indians being present. The governor expressed his sorrow at the state of hostilities,—reviewed the course of Kam-i-ah-kan, Pu-pu-mox-mox, and the hostiles in accepting their treaties, professing the utmost satisfaction with them, and then murdering whites traveling through their country and their agent, Bolon, plundering Fort Walla Walla, burning the houses of settlers, and threatening the lives of himself and party returning from the Blackfoot council. He had labored only for their good as their friend, and could they wonder that he was grieved at this state of affairs? The provisions of the treaties relating to punishments for offenses committed by Indians upon whites, or by whites upon Indians, were fully explained, and the fact stated that under the treaties they had bound themselves to deliver up the murderers. It was the law, and to that they must submit. Men were killed on both sides in battle, but that was not murder. But the Indians who killed their agent, Bolon, and others must be given up to be tried and punished by the law. He invited all Indians who desired peace to submit unconditionally to the justice and mercy of the government; the lives of all except the murderers should be safe. He spoke of the Indians of the Sound who had surrendered and been placed on reservations, fed, clothed, and protected, and treated not harshly, but with kindness. Few of the hostiles were present. Many conflicting rumors were current as to the whereabouts of Kam-i-ah-kan and other hostile chiefs.

The council continued the next day. The governor said that he had given his views in regard to the war and how it could be ended, that his words were intended for all the Indians of the country, and called upon them to express their minds. The Indians manifested a reluctance to speak, each seeming to wait for another. Several chiefs expressed sorrow that war existed, and hoped a peace might be made. Peeps, a hostile Cuyuse chief, said there was no haste, as Kam-i-ah-kan was coming, and they waited for him.

Wee-lap-to-leek, a hostile chief of the Tigh Indians, a band near the Dalles, said that the Indians were determined to have their country; they would bet it on a fight with the whites, and the winners should take it. He was indorsed by Camas-pello, former war chief of the Cuyuses.

Eagle-from-the-Light, the prominent Nez Perce chief, complained bitterly because a Nez Perce brave had been hanged in the valley last winter by the Oregon volunteers, and asserted that the man was guiltless. He was followed by others in the same strain.

The governor explained the laws of the whites in regard to spies, and that the executed Nez Perce was punished as one, and that he would speak further of the case the next day, after he had learned all the facts. He then adjourned the council, expressing the hope that Kam-i-ah-kan and Garry would be present the next day.

The Indians held councils in their camps all night. So hostile were the Cuyuses, Umatillas, Walla Wallas, and others, and so much did more than half of the Nez Perces sympathize with them, that the friendly Nez Perces danced the war-dance during the whole night. The lives of the friendly chiefs were threatened, and the great bulk of the Indians seemed simply to be waiting for the coming of Kam-i-ah-kan to fall upon the governor and his party. Some of the Indians were detected attending the council with arms under their blankets, and posting themselves near the governor and other members of the party; but although no open notice was taken of them, the redoubled vigilance of the volunteer guards gave no chance for their premeditated treachery.

Early the following morning the governor sent the following letter to Steptoe:—

Council Grounds, Walla Walla Valley, W.T.,
September 13, 1856.