For instance, in proof: Soon after I sent my last dispatches, the chief of the Tualatin Plains, whose orderly conduct and that of his clan did honor to the Nez Percé laws, and the engagement we had mutually entered into, called on me, desiring my offices in procuring the mending of his gun. This being done, he invited me to come and see him and his people; said all was not right at his lodge; his tribe was divided, and all was not right; his influence was waning, and some of his people were becoming very bitter toward the Americans. Observing anxiety and mental reservation, I endeavored to draw out the secret, reminding him of the frequent communications he had brought me from the Rev. Messrs. Clark and Griffin, bearing such satisfactory testimony to their previous quiet, orderly, and proper conduct, etc., but all I could learn was, “Things are not right with us, and we are miserable.”
The camass, their principal dependence for food, was cut off last season by reason of drought; and the deer are hunted so much by the late hungry western immigrant riflemen, that they have become wild, poor, and few in number. The chief left.
A few days after, I learned they had killed an ox and ate it, belonging to a neighboring white man. The owner was excited, and applied to one of the executive; a proclamation was issued, the military was called out (if it be lawful to call it such), and ample preparations made to avenge this national insult, and seek redress for this astounding loss. The army collected upon the opposite bank of the river, about six miles from the position occupied by the enemy, talked bravely, long, and loud, but the river was a little too high to cross that day; appointed another, the river being lower; none of the warriors appeared; nor could the executive, or owner, simply for the want of a few gallons of alcohol, obtain the necessary assistance to avenge the horrid wrong, and perform a brilliant military exploit. The chief, in his embarrassment and distress, came to me as usual for sympathy and succor. My coldness and look of severity (for which Heaven forgive me!) keenly afflicted him. After a deep sigh and painful pause, peculiar to a wounded or injured Indian, he slowly rose, gently smiting his breast, and said, “Dr. White, I am a true man, and carry an honest heart. Do you remember my coming to get my gun mended last fall? Do you remember my words, that all was not right with our people, and my inviting you to come and see us? We had just before killed that old ox, and were then eating it.” I inquired, “Had you any thing to do with it personally?” “Yes, I helped to kill it, and, with my family, took and ate one-half of the animal. You saw the condition of my gun;—our provisions were out; I and others had hunted for two days,—our hunger was great. We held a council; and, hoping for success, I promised, on condition nothing was caught till the setting of another sun, we would kill the first animal we met. I traveled far, and wearied myself till evening; shot often but killed nothing;—we met this poor old ox, which our people would scorn to kill or eat but in case of extreme hunger;—my word was passed to my people; I could not go back from my word; I helped to kill and butcher the ox, and joined in eating him; and now my peace is gone. I am ashamed to see a white man’s face; they look cold on me and shake the head;—I can not bear it—I can not live so; I come to you to help me, for I am told they want to kill me. I do not want such feelings to exist; nor do I want to be hunted as a bear or wild beast, for slaughter. I stand here a wisher of peace, willing to have you dictate the terms; but wish to have it remembered that we were distressed with hunger.” “Suppose,” said I, “the owner should require your rifle and four horses?” “You stand to judge between us, and I shall abide your decision.” “But you have broken your engagement and forfeited confidence, and I fear it can not be settled, and some think you have killed before.” “Dr. White, I am a true man, and lie not. I, nor my people, can not be so accused justly; this is injurious; none can meet my face and say it.” I wrote, through him, to the owner, praying, as it was the first offense so far as we had the least evidence, and especially in view of our critical situation and his general good behavior, that he would fully indemnify himself; and then, in view of what I knew of the condition of his gun, and the probability that it was induced by hunger, to settle it; and requested him to assure the chief that he was convinced from my letter and all the circumstances, in connection with his past good conduct, that it must have been brought about by hunger.
The advice was rejected, as the laws of the organization now had cognizance of the offense, and he wished to see them faithfully enforced. Public opinion became divided, and no judicial expression being made, and the poor chief becoming excessively tired of being held by public opinion in durance vile, came to see me a second time. I wrote again, and learned it was settled by the chief and his people paying his rifle and eight horses. If this be correct (as I fear it is), I abominate the act and dread its prejudicial influence.
Week before last a hungry and mischievous lodge killed a cow. They were pursued by a party of whites, overtaken, and, in attempting to take them, the Indians fired upon the whites, killing one horse, and wounded another. The fire was returned; one Indian killed, and a second wounded. Thus ended this affair, which creates very little excitement among whites or Indians.
The most painful circumstance that has occurred lately, transpired last fall at California. The Cayuses, Wallawallas, and some of the chiefs of the Spokans, entered upon the hazardous but grand and important enterprise of going directly through the Indian country to California, with a view of exchanging their beaver, deer, and elk skins, together with their surplus horses, for neat stock. As they had to travel through an extensive country inhabited by the savage and warlike Klamaths and Shastas, where Smith, Turner, and so many other white parties had been defeated, we are at a loss to conclude whether their valor is more to be commended than the rashness of their stupendous enterprise to be censured. They were well mounted and equipped; the chiefs clad in English costume, and the residue attired in dressed skins, molded according to their several tastes. The journey of seven or eight hundred miles, after some fighting, watching, and much fatigue, was accomplished, and their numbers not lessened.
Taking their own statement, their reception was cordial, and the impression made upon the whites by these distant and half-civilized people, upon an errand so commendable, was most favorable. The treating and salutations being over, the trade commenced in good faith, and to mutual satisfaction. All moved on well, till, on an excursion to procure elk and deer skins, they met a marauding band of mountain freebooters; fought them, and, being victorious, took a prize of twenty-two horses, all previously stolen from the whites.
On returning to the settlements, the Spaniards laid claim to the animals. The chiefs remonstrated, and said, agreeably to their customs, the horses were theirs. The Spaniards explained their laws, and showed the animals not to be vented, i. e., bearing a transfer mark, and told the Indians they must give them to the rightful owners, as all Americans and others did. The Indians seemed grieved and rather incensed; said in their country six nations of people were on terms of amity, and that in case any one of these six nations stole a horse, the tribe was responsible for the safe delivery of that animal to the rightful owner; but in case the Blackfeet or other formidable enemy steal or capture, the properly is supposed lost, without redemption; and as we have captured these horses at the hazard of our lives, from your long openly declared enemies, we think they ought in justice to be ours. The Spaniards condescended to offer ten cows for the redemption of the horses; the chief not replying, five more were added; he still remaining moody and without replying, the negotiation unhappily broke off. A day or two after, an American, seeing his mule among the number captured, told the Indians it was his mule, and have it he would. “Will you?” said a young chief by the name of Elijah Heading; and stepping into the lodge, he immediately loaded his rifle, came out and observed significantly, “Go now and take your mule.” The American, much alarmed, remarked, “I hope you are not going to kill me.” “No! I am going to shoot yonder eagle” (perched upon a neighboring oak). Not liking the appearances, the man left without attempting to obtain his mule. A day or two after, the Indians left their encampment and walked down to the fort of Captain Sutter to church; and from the best information we have obtained (all being ex parte), the following appears to be near the truth: After service Elijah was invited into another apartment, taking with him his uncle, a brave and sensible chief of the age of five and forty; while there, in an unarmed and defenseless condition, they commenced menacing him for things alleged against the river Indians of this upper country, in which none of them had any participation; called them indiscriminately dogs, thieves, etc. This American then observed: “Yesterday you were going to kill me; now you must die”—drawing a pistol. Elijah, who had been five or six years at the Methodist Mission, and had learned to read, write, and speak English respectably, said, deliberately: “Let me pray a little, first;” and kneeling down, at once commenced; and while invoking the Divine mercy, was shot through the heart or vitals dead upon the spot. Every measure, as the Indians say, was taken to cut them all off by the Spaniards, who brought out the cannon, with other fire-arms, and hotly pursued them, and tried to prevent their escape by checking and interrupting their passage across the ferries, etc. But at length they all arrived safely, after manifest suffering, leaving the herds they had paid for in California.
They met three Americans on the way as they left the California settlements and had them in their power, but instead of revenging the death of Elijah, they mounted each on a horse of their own, and sent them on, telling them to go to the fort and acquaint the people that they could not kill innocent white people in their power and lodge.
Taking for truth an Indian report, this horrible affair creates considerable excitement, and there is some danger of its disturbing the friendly relation that has hitherto existed between us here, and all those formidable tribes in the region of Wallawalla and Snake River. They had no sooner arrived, than Ellis, my interpreter, the high chief of the Nez Percés, was deputed to come down and learn our opinions regarding the affair. They could not have sent a better agent, the whites all giving him a handsome and cordial reception. From Wallawalla, he accompanied Mr. Grant, the chief trader at Fort Hall, down to Vancouver. He called on Dr. McLaughlin, whose great experience and address were serviceable. He spoke touchingly of the violent death of his own son upon the northwest coast, and left the impression that he could not avoid sympathizing with the father and friends of the deceased young chief. Mr. Douglas, too, an early friend, patron, and favorite of Ellis, aided much in convincing him that all the good and virtuous could not avoid the most painful regrets at so melancholy a circumstance, which must have occurred by reason of the difference in their customs or laws, imperfectly understanding each other, or from some, as he would charitably hope, excusable circumstance.