The journey was resumed about daybreak, but sometime in the forenoon it began to be passed around that Lovejoy and Captain Hastings were missing; and this caused anxiety. Matthieu suspected Indians and scanned the plains, now ablaze to the distant horizon in the summer sunshine. At length he caught far in the distance, a distinct glance of light. This was thrown, as he surmised, from one of the little zinc-framed looking-glasses that the Indian braves frequently wore attached around their necks. Waiting for no further sign, he hastened to the train, telling the immigrants to halt and get ready, as the Indians would soon be upon them. To them this was rather mystifying, as the young Frenchman took no trouble to explain how he knew this. But upon his advice the wagons were halted, and everything was placed in readiness to receive the Indians, who might be hostile. In the course of a few hours a great band of Sioux appeared in sight, developing out of the prairie, and galloping in wild fashion upon their ponies—or in large part running on foot. They numbered about five hundred and were in full war dress and paint. Lovejoy and Hastings were among them, being held as captives and looking very much crestfallen. They had delayed, as it seems, in boyish spirit, to inscribe their names among others on the face of Independence Rock; and having just completed their task, had turned to go only to find themselves in the embrace of some very large Indians.
Matthieu, however, who knew personally some of the chiefs, soon saw that they were good natured, as they now moved around the train, and were only wishing to drive a good bargain to let their captives go. They were a war party and wanted ammunition. When this was made known, the men of the train exclaimed “What! shall we give them ammunition to shoot us with?” Matthieu, however, advised giving it. “They have enough ammunition already,” he said, “to shoot us. They do not wish to fight us, but only desire supplies for fighting other Indians.” Accordingly, the ammunition was given them, along with other things, and the captives were released. This, however, was not the last of Indians. The next day a band, or rather a host, of about five or six thousand (F. X. M.) of the Blackfoot Sioux, under a great war chief, appeared. By this immense multitude, the train was compelled to halt, and to be inspected by band after band of the curious savages. The Indians being in such overwhelming force, were very free in their ways. They were especially curious to look at the women of the train. Mr. Matthieu relates the following amusing incident: “The family of Mr. Smith was especially annoyed by the curious braves, who came continually to their tent, and pulling the flaps apart, gazed in silent admiration upon his wife and daughters, or spoke to one another in their own language.” By this behavior Mr. Smith, who was of a very irascible temper, was so much annoyed that he came at length to Matthieu, asking him to send them off, as he could do nothing with them. When Matthieu arrived and discovered what it was the Indians wanted, and the thoroughly irate Mr. Smith desired to know, the Frenchman said: “You must be very quiet; you must make no commotion.” Mr. Smith agreed. “I am almost afraid to tell you,” continued Matthieu, “you will not like it.” Mr. Smith insisted. “They wish to buy one of your daughters to present to their great chief,” said Mr. Matthieu. At this Mr. Smith sprang to his feet in great excitement, ready to drive the intruders away by force. “Softly, softly,” said Matthieu. “You will have the whole band down upon us.” Then to the Indians he explained how their white brother regretted his inability to meet their wishes; but according to the customs of his people, it was impossible to sell her. When satisfied entirely with this information, the braves retired. However, the fondness of the Indians to see and even possess the white women, was a real source of danger, with which the immigrant parties had to reckon. It was not simply an annoyance. It was apprehended by some that American families could never cross the plains safely. The Indians, it was said, would seize their women at all hazards. That they did not do so, but respected the white man’s customs, even when, as in this case, they were in greatly superior numbers, shows they had a certain native morality, often not found among the whites.
This great band of Indians also could hardly be made to believe that the immigrant train had no liquors, and begged insistently for the firewater. Fitzpatrick, the pilot, both with this band and that at Independence Rock, refused to be made known, not wishing to implicate himself as a leader of white people through their country; and remarked that all the prairie was home to him, and he could drop off anywhere. Matthieu, therefore, having learned the custom of the Sioux, and knowing some of them personally, was able to help the immigrants, and to greatly reduce the liability of trouble. “I actually believe,” he says, “that they might not have got through without me.” These Sioux, being of the Blackfoot division of the nation, were at this juncture on a great expedition to cross the Rocky Mountains and attack the Snake Indians.
At Fort Hall, the exact date of reaching which is not remembered by Mr. Matthieu, the immigrants delayed, some for a shorter, others a longer time. The object was to change from their wagons to pack saddles. Mr. Matthieu does not recollect that the Hudson’s Bay commandant there offered to purchase any wagons, and thinks this improbable. “The Hudson’s Bay Company had no use for any wagons,” he observes.
The commandant, Grant, is well remembered as very large and fine looking “as big a man as Dr. John McLoughlin”—which is as grand a comparison as could be made by a McLoughlin admirer. Grant assured the immigrants that it was impossible for wagons to cross the Blue Mountains into Oregon. This, Mr. Matthieu believes, was said because he thought it true, and he was simply representing what was generally understood as the fact. Mr. Matthieu remarks, however, “we all know very well that the Hudson’s Bay Company was not favorable to immigration to Oregon;” and, though only a young man at the time, he understood that the British expected to hold the Columbia River as their boundary line. As to bringing the wagons on to the Columbia River, he says that this could have been done, as wood and water and the grass were in most places abundant, and though in some places the trail was very difficult, it was not impossible to American teamsters.
He and his comrades remained about eight days at Fort Hall, and then came on with the Hudson’s Bay express by the horse trail, crossing the Blue Mountains, and descending upon the valley of the Umatilla, and then going by Whitman’s farm at Waiilatpu to old Fort Walla Walla. At Waiilatpu he remained fifteen days waiting for the other immigrants to come in; as the trip from Fort Hall to Whitman’s was made in small parties, or even by families, as they were able, the later ones following the tracks of the earlier. There was here no danger of Indians, and the semi-military organization with which they started was entirely abandoned.
With Doctor Whitman and his place, Mr. Matthieu was very favorably impressed. The farm was neat and well cultivated, having a large garden, a field of grain and a small grist mill. Doctor Whitman himself he describes as “a very nice man,” of unbounded hospitality. “His garden and grist mill he threw open” to their use, and for what they had need of “he would not take a cent.” In person he recalls Whitman as not very tall, rather slender in build, and of strongly Yankee style. His hair was then dark. Though very favorably impressed, however, with Whitman, the Yankee missionary bore, in Matthieu’s estimation, no comparison with Doctor McLoughlin, who was his beau ideal of the natural-born leader of men.
In this connection Mr. Matthieu states that he had the following incident directly from some employees of the Hudson’s Bay Company at Vancouver, which illustrates Doctor McLoughlin’s disposition toward Whitman. In 1841 the Cayuse Indians formed the intention of killing Doctor Whitman. But they feared the punishment that Doctor McLoughlin would visit upon them, if he disapproved the act. They devised the plan, therefore, of discovering his feeling, as if by accident. A number of the leaders were sent to Fort Vancouver, and there stationing themselves by the bank of the river, they began to talk to one another of destroying Whitman. Doctor McLoughlin was passing and they were purposely overheard by him. Instantly confronting the Cayuses the old Doctor raised his great cane and cried out in a terrific voice, “Who says you shall kill Whitman?” and threatened condign punishment if such a massacre should take place. The Indians scattered and immediately gave up their evil plan.
Before leaving Mr. Matthieu’s account of his experiences on the plains, perhaps the following story may be told as throwing a side light upon the character and ways of some of the people who crossed. It is in regard to an Irishman called Pat, who was with the party but had no outfit and no money, and was little better than a camp follower. He obtained his day’s provisions by going from camp to camp, or mess to mess, asking for anything that might be put into his pot, which he then boiled over the fire making a sort of soup. Once while he was thus cooking he had the misfortune to drop his pipe into the savory mess, which turned it so much against his stomach that he would not eat it. “Give it to B.,” suggested a bystander, “he will eat anything.” B. was another camp-follower, less-liked than Pat. B. enjoyed his meal, but afterwards regretted his precipitancy. Pat always endeavored to return the courtesies of his patrons by doing little favors around the camps, especially in helping the women about their wood and fires, and became rather a favorite. Reaching Oregon, and finally going to California, he prospered and became a wealthy man.
The trip over the Cascade Mountains was the most difficult of any part of the journey, and involved the most suffering. The route was by the old Indian trail at the base of Mount Hood, on the north side. A snow-storm was encountered here, and by this fourteen of the horses were stampeded and took the back trail for The Dalles, where there was an abundance of grass. Matthieu, however, managed to keep himself comfortable during the storm by kindling an immense fire in the timber, and retained his horses by tying them. On this part of the trip he was accompanied by Hugh Burns, a well-known Irishman, who made himself useful as cook.