Our first call on Indians was at Port Gamble, fifty miles from home. Here are about one hundred, and they asked me to talk on temperance. During the last year and a half they have reformed in this respect. After pointing them to Christ as the source of their help, they had their talk. They said that one thing now troubles them. They live across Port Gamble Bay, an eighth of a mile from the saw-mill and town, in a village by themselves, on land owned by the mill company. They can manage the Indians as well as could be expected, but there is near them a white man with a black heart, who with his Indian wife often gets drunk, sometimes remaining so for a week at a time. They also tempt the weaker Indians; and now how to get rid of him is the question. As both he and they live on land belonging to the company, the only way I saw was for them to petition the superintendent to remove him. So after nine o’clock at night I wrote out a petition, which the chiefs and policemen and others signed, stating all the facts, and asking for this man’s removal. I was obliged to leave early the next morning, and so left them to present it. I have known of whites petitioning to have worthless Indians removed, but have never before known Indians to petition to have a white man removed because he was so low that they did not wish to have him near them. Two years ago they would not have done this, as many of them were glad to have an opportunity so convenient where they could obtain the liquid poison.
My next congregation was at Port Discovery, thirty-five miles farther on, and very much the same routine was observed at a number of places. My business with them was to preach; theirs with me was to talk about how and where to procure land in the best way. This was true at Port Angelos, Elkwa, and two settlements at Clallam Bay. For several years they have been urged to procure land so that they could feel warranted in erecting good houses, and thus leave the old ones, full of grease, dirt and smoke; but with the exception of those at Dunginess, very few have done so; now they begin to realize the benefits of it and have “land on the brain.” But they move cautiously, for it is easy for them to be deceived, and it is talk, talk, talk as to what is best. Two parties traveled to the Reservation about the time I was beginning my journey—a trip of two or three hundred miles—to consult about land.
At Dunginess a troublesome case begins. Four Indians, living fifty miles farther on, had been here three or four weeks previously, anxious to obtain the land on which their houses stood. They had been sent to the clerk of the Probate Court, who knew nothing about it, but told them it was Government land, and offered to get it for them for the usual fees, nineteen dollars each. They paid him the seventy-six dollars, and he promised to send it to the land office at Olympia, and have their papers for them in two weeks. They waited the two weeks, but received no returns. In the meantime others told them that the man could lawfully do the business, but he was not to be trusted, for the land had been owned by private individuals for fifteen years. He, too, by the time I met him, had written to the land office and found the same to be true. My business is, if possible, to get the money back. It is useless to sue him, as he has no property which the law can touch. One of the four Indians returned with me to get his money, but was satisfied that it was useless for him to go farther, so he went home. He had already spent three weeks, and the three others two weeks each in trying to recover it. Yet this same man is Postmaster, Clerk of the Probate Court, U. S. Commissioner, Deputy Sheriff, and lately offered fifty dollars to the County Treasurer to be appointed his deputy. I was not disappointed at the result, but handed the business over to the agent to settle in Court.
Let us contrast the action of the Indians with this. I felt very sorry for them. For four years we have been advising them to obtain land, and now they were swindled in their first attempt. Fearful lest they should become discouraged, I offered them ten dollars to divide amongst them, saying, “If you never get your money I will lose this with you, but if you do you can then repay it.” One-tenth of my income has long been given to the Lord, and I felt that it would do as much good there as anywhere. When I first mentioned this they refused, saying that they did not wish me to lose my money, if they did theirs, but two weeks afterwards, when I left the last one he took it; yet shortly afterwards I found that he would not spend any of it, although he wanted some articles very much, saying that it was not their money after all.
This lower part of the Sound is very like the ocean, with nothing to break the winds, so I procured for that part of the journey a very large canoe, thirty-six feet long, two and a half deep and six wide. The children can play in it, and at night we anchored it out in some good harbor like a small schooner.
Hospitality was very generous. I thought that there were too many of us to go into anybody’s house; but at Dunginess, where we remained two or three days in connection with each of two Sabbaths, a woman said, in the absence of her husband, “You must all come in. If you pitch your tent I will set fire to it and burn it down.” We submitted. The agent at Neah Bay was just as hospitable, notwithstanding that his house already seemed to be full, and also the superintendent of the mill at Seabeck.
The weather was generally pleasant, but sometimes it rained hard. No one caught cold, however, on account of it. Camping on the sand is not so pleasant. Fresh water is so scarce as only to be used for drinking. We boil our potatoes in salt water, but get it near shore, and forget to let it settle. The potatoes crack, and the sand is all through them. Then baby crawls along and tips the rice over into the sand, and we all tramp the sand on to the beds, and into them, until our better half wishes herself at home, as it blows into the food-box and clothes-boxes and everywhere.
A WEDDING.
An Indian, who had been married Indian fashion for several years, but who had homesteaded a farm, thought it best to be married in a civilized way. He had never seen such a performance, so I explained all to him beforehand. But when I was going through the ceremony and had just said, “You promise to take this woman to be your wife,” he interrupted me, saying, “Yes, of course I do. You do not suppose I am going to put away my wife now, after I have lived with her so long? See, here are my children, the oldest fifteen years old. It would be foolish for us now to separate.” I told him, “All right,” kept very sober, laughed in my sleeve, made a note of it, and proceeded to say, “You promise to love and honor her,” etc.
Twenty religious services were held during the journey, including one communion service, and one very pleasant prayer-meeting preparatory to it. Thus we spent the month of August, enjoyed it, and have enjoyed home all the more since reaching it.