Whitman's Ride Through Savage Lands, with Sketches of Indian Life

by Oliver W. Nixon

"While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyelids close in death, When I rise to worlds unknown, And behold Thee on Thy throne; Rock of Ages, cleft for me, May I hide myself in Thee."

This was the morning family service; in the afternoon there was a large attendance of the Indians. The Doctor led the service, and for the opening hymn selected the same one sung in the morning, and the little girl's sweet childish voice chimed in beautifully with the rich soprano of her mother. Mrs. Whitman writes, "This was the last we ever heard her sing." I never hear "Rock of Ages," but it calls to mind little Clarissa, and her wilderness home, where the angelic messengers hovered even then, to bear the dear child, in the words of her song, "to worlds unknown."

After the service Mrs. Whitman was busy in the preparation of the evening meal for her large family; the little child was here and there, busy as usual, and had not been missed until five minutes before the alarm was given, and a hurried search made in every direction, with calls that were unanswered. They had a path which led to the Walla Walla River, sixty or more yards away, and a platform built out, so that pure water could be dipped up for family use. There upon the platform they found one of her little red tin cups, which was a treasure she greatly prized. The Indian who found it at once reached the conclusion that the little girl had fallen in while attempting to dip the water. He at once dived in, and allowing the rapid current to drift his body as it would the child, he soon seized the clothing and bore the little body, yet warm, to its father's arms. Every effort was made to recall the life which had departed, but in vain. Possibly my young readers may inquire why was this permitted? Why was the dear child taken, and such sorrow left in the home? Such thoughts and utterances have occurred thousands of times during the centuries. The pure, the good, and the true depart, and the vicious often live on. We indeed "look through a glass darkly" on this earth, but we may know more for the reasons of life when we reach the life beyond.

Certainly such events are trials of Christian faith in multitudes of Christian homes! Did they come too near worshiping the child? Was it likely the great, strong man who was to be called to a great work would have been turned aside from it had the child lived? Could the "Silent Man" have left that tender charge in the wilderness to answer a call to duty? Who can answer? Dr. Whitman himself writes nothing of the event. But one glancing at the notes of Mrs. Whitman's diary, will see revealed the profoundly Christian character of the mother. She writes, "Lord, it is right, it is right! She is not mine, but Thine! She was only lent to me to comfort me for a little season, and now, dear Saviour, Thou hast the best right to her. Thy will, not mine, be done!" One seldom reads a better sermon upon Christian faith than that.

The effect of the death of "the little white Cayuse Queen" upon the Indians was marked. They had but little of the faith of the mother's heart to buoy them up. They could not understand it. The Indians were superstitious, and they conceived it to be a judgment, sent by the Great Spirit, upon Dr. Whitman, and that he was displeased with "Great White Medicine." From that event the older Indians appear to have lost most of their interest in the mission and its work, and the task of the missionaries never after ran as smoothly as before. The best of them still attended the religious services, and the school flourished. The medicine men of the Cayuse had long been jealous of Whitman's power, and they helped the grumblers and mischief-makers to lessen the Doctor's power and influence with the tribe.

The occupants of the mission were very busy people. The fields and gardens produced bountiful crops, but it required it all to feed the many at the mission, and the hungry transient guests. It was upon the direct route of immigrants—many sick and impoverished, and they all met with hospitable welcome. Mrs. Whitman writes, in her diary, "In some respects we are in a trying situation, being missionaries and not traders." Dr. Spalding, who was more intimately associated with Whitman and his work than any other man, years after Whitman's death, made this record.

"Immigrants by the hundreds, and later on, and near the close of his life, by the thousands, reached his mission, weary, worn, hungry, sick, and often destitute, but he cared for them all. Seven small children of one family, by the death of parents, were left upon the hands of the Doctor and his wife, one a babe four months old. They adopted them with four others, furnishing food and clothing without pay. Frequently the Doctor would give away his entire food supply, and send to me for grain to get him through the winter."

The Cayuse Indians were scarcely a fair test of Dr. Whitman's theories of Indian elevation and civilization. They were smart, shrewd traders, and not fur-hunters, and a low state of morals existed. While many of the older ones accepted the Doctor's advice of living in peace with surrounding tribes and treating them honestly, yet many of the younger Indians rebelled against his strict rules, and went on forays that he severely condemned. In one case a distant tribe owed a debt which they had failed to pay, and the Cayuse braves made a foray and stole their horses to pay the debt. The Doctor made a vigorous protest, and the young bloods had to take back their booty, but it estranged many of the influential, younger Indians, who rebelled against such strict moral methods. Such conditions grew with the years. They were near the fort, and came oftener under the influence of the Canadian fur-traders and hangers-on of the Hudson Bay Company, and as we shall see later on, were easily led to believe the stories started at the time of the great ride, that "Whitman's designs were to kill off all the Indians, and take possession of their lands." But we will not enter into any discussion of the direct causes which led up to the great disaster of 1847, many of them not well authenticated.

The Nez Perces presided over by Dr. Spalding, whose mission was intimately associated with that of Whitman, and one in which he took a deep interest, was a much more tractable tribe, and have ever since proved their training. They are perhaps to-day as fine specimens of civilized Indians as can be found in the United States. From the year 1836, when Dr. and Mrs. Spalding took charge of them, they have never raised an arm or showed enmity against white people. One little faction led by a minor chief, at one time joined a war party, which, however, was not countenanced by the tribe. At the time of the great massacre, when Dr. and Mrs. Spalding were also expecting death, the Nez Perces rallied around them, and five hundred of their bravest warriors escorted them to civilization and safety, braving the scorn and enmity of hostile tribes. To-day they are Christian people, have five flourishing Presbyterian churches, good schools, and productive farms. Every fourth of July all the churches unite in "a yearly meeting," raise American flags, hear speeches and sermons, and patriotic songs. In the fine two-volume history and biography of his father, General Stevens, who was the first governor of Washington Territory, Captain Hazard Stevens pays a noble tribute to the work of the early missionaries and the Nez Perces. He specifies as many as three occasions when all the other tribes were on the war-path, the Nez Perces stood loyal, and saved the lives of the governor and his party. True, we cannot, in view of the facts, have much to say of the Cayuse, but they were not all bad. It was related by those who visited the Cayuse in their reservation, to which they were banished after the massacre, that "fourteen years after, old Istikus, every Sunday morning went to the door of his tent and rang the old sacred mission bell, and invited all to come to prayers." How little or how much of Christianity was planted in Indian souls by the pioneer missionaries of Oregon eternity alone will reveal.

But we venture the assertion that the American Board and Christian people, in view of the good we know of the Indians such as I have recited, and the overwhelmingly invaluable services of Dr. Whitman to Christianity and the nation, no wiser expenditure was ever made by that great organization.