Lyman's History of old Walla Walla County, Vol. 1 / Embracing Walla Walla, Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties

by William Denison Lyman

The girl, too, had gone to sleep, but not soundly like the spirits. When the sun had reached the meridian, she woke, and now, to her horror, she saw that instead of being in the midst of beautiful spirits, she was surrounded by hideous skeletons and loathsome, decaying bodies. Around her waist were the bony arms and skeleton fingers of her lover, and his grinning teeth and gaping eye-sockets seemed to be turned in mockery upon her. Screaming with horror she leaped up and ran to the edge of the island, where, after hunting a long time, she found a boat, in which she paddled across to the Indian village. Having presented herself to her astonished parents, they became fearful that some great calamity would visit the tribe on account of her return, and accordingly her father took her the next night back to the memaloose island as before. There she met again the happy spirits of the blessed and there again her lover and she spent another night in ecstatic bliss.

In the course of time a child was born to the girl, beautiful beyond description, being half spirit and half human. The spirit bridegroom, being anxious that his mother should see the child, sent a spirit messenger to the village, desiring his mother to come by night to the memaloose island to visit them. She was told, however, that she must not look at the child until ten days had passed. But after the old woman had reached the island her desire to see the wonderful child was so intense that she took advantage of a moment's inattention on the part of the guard, and, lifting the cloth from the baby board, she stole a look at the sleeping infant. And then, dreadful to relate, the baby died in consequence of this premature human look. Grieved and displeased by this foolish act, the spirit people decreed that the dead should never again return nor hold any communication with the living.

As showing still another phase of Indian imagination, the stories of the "Tomanowas Bridge" of the Cascades may well find a place here.

This myth not only treats of fire, but it also endeavors to account for the peculiar formation of the river and for the great snow peaks in the near vicinity. This myth has various forms, and in order that it may be the better understood, we shall say a word with respect to the peculiar physical features in that part of the Columbia. This mighty river, after having traversed over a thousand miles from its source in the heart of the Rocky Mountains of Canada, has cleft the Cascade range asunder with the cañon 3,000 feet in depth. While generally very swift, that portion of the river between The Dalles and the Cascades, of about fifty miles, is very deep and sluggish. There are moreover sunken forests on both sides of the river, visible at low water, which seem plainly to indicate that at that point the river was dammed up by some great rock slide or volcanic convulsion. Some of the Indians affirm that their grandfathers have told them there was a time when the river at that point passed under an immense natural bridge and that there were no obstructions to the passage of boats under the bridge. At the present time there is a cascade of forty feet at that point. This is now overcome by Government locks. Among other evidences of some such actual occurrence as the Indians relate is the fact that the banks of the river at that point are gradually sliding into the river. The prodigious volume of the Columbia which here rises from fifty to seventy-five feet during the summer flood and which, as shown by Government engineers, carries as much water as the Mississippi at New Orleans, is here continually eating into the banks. The railroad has slid several inches a year at this point toward the river and requires frequent readjustment. It is obvious at a slight inspection that this weird and sublime point in the course of this majestic river has been the scene of terrific volcanic and probably seismic action. One Indian legend, probably the best known of all their stories, is to the effect that the downfall of the great bridge and consequent damming of the river was due to a great battle between Mount Hood and Mount Adams, in which Mount Hood hurled a great rock at his antagonist, but falling short of the mark the rock demolished the bridge instead. This event has been made use of by Frederick Balch in his beautiful story, "The Bridge of the Gods," the finest story yet produced in Oregon.

But the finer, though less known legend, which unites both the physical conformation of the Cascades and the three great snow mountains of Hood, Adams, and St. Helens, with the origin of fire, is to this effect. This story was secured by Mr. Fred Saylor of Portland.

According to the Klickitats there was once a father and two sons who came from the east down the Columbia to the vicinity of where Dalles City is now located, and there the two sons quarreled as to who should possess the land. The father, to settle the dispute, shot two arrows, one to the north and one to the west. He told one son to find the arrow to the north and the other the one at the west and there to settle and bring up their families. The first son, going northward, over what was then a beautiful plain, became the progenitor of the Klickitat tribe, while the other son was the founder of the great Multnomah nation of the Willamette Valley. To separate the two tribes more effectively Sahale reared the chain of the Cascades, though without any great peaks, and for a long time all things went in harmony. But for convenience' sake Sahale had created the great tomanowas bridge under which the waters of the Columbia flowed, and on this bridge he had stationed a witch woman called Loowit, who was to take charge of the fire. This was the only fire in the world. As time passed on Loowit observed the deplorable condition of the Indians, destitute of fire and the conveniences which it might bring. She therefore besought Sahale to allow her to bestow fire upon the Indians. Sahale, having been greatly pleased by the faithfulness and benevolence of Loowit, finally granted her request. The lot of the Indians was wonderfully improved by the acquisition of fire. They now began to make better lodges and clothes and had a variety of food and implements and, in short, were marvellously benefited by the bounteous gift.

But Sahale, in order to show his appreciation of the care with which Loowit had guarded the sacred fire, now determined to offer her any gift she might desire as a reward. Accordingly, in response to his offer, Loowit asked that she be transformed into a young and beautiful girl. This was effected and now, as might have been expected, all the Indian chiefs fell deeply in love with the beautiful guardian of the tomanowas bridge. Loowit paid little heed to any of them, until finally there came two magnificent chiefs, one from the north called Klickitat, and one from the south called Wiyeast. Loowit was uncertain which of these two she most desired, and as a result a bitter strife arose between the two, and this waxed hotter and hotter, until finally, with their respective warriors, they entered upon a desperate war. The land was ravaged, all the beautiful things which they had made were marred, and misery and wretchedness ensued. Sahale repented that he had allowed Loowit to bestow fire upon the Indians, and determined to undo all his work in so far as he could. Accordingly he broke down the tomanowas bridge, which dammed up the river with an impassable reef and put to death Loowit, Klickitat and Wiyeast. But, he said, inasmuch as they had been so grand and beautiful in life, he would give them a fitting commemoration after death. Therefore he reared over them as monuments the great snow peaks; over Loowit what we now call Mount St. Helens, over Wiyeast the modern Mount Hood, and above Klickitat the stupendous dome of what we now call Mount Adams.

And now it is a matter of much interest to learn something of the chief original sources and the most reliable investigators of these myths. This survey is necessarily incomplete. The endeavor is to name the students and writers of myths as far as possible. This search goes beyond Old Walla Walla and covers Old Oregon.

First in the natural order of the investigators and records of Indian myths come the early explorers and writers of Old Oregon. Most of these give us little on the special subject of myths, though they give much on the habits, customs, occupations, and implements of the natives. The earliest explorer in Oregon, so far as known to the author, to give any native legend, is Gabriel Franchere, who came to Astoria with the Astor Fur Company in 1811. In his narrative, upon which Irving's "Astoria" is largely based, we find a fine story of the creation of men by Etalapass, and their subsequent improvement by Ecannum. Franchere says that this legend was related to him by Ellewa, one of the sons of Concomly, the one-eyed Chinook chief, who figures conspicuously in Franchere's narrative. Of valuable books of the same period of Franchere, are Ross Cox's "Adventures on the Columbia River," and Alexander Ross' "Adventures on the Columbia," both of which contain valuable references to the customs and superstitious ideas of the natives, though not much in the way of myths. Ross gives an interesting myth of the Oakinackens (Okanogans as we now say) about the origin of the Indians or Skyloo on the white man's island, Samahtumawhoolah. The Indians were then very white and ruled by a female spirit, or Great Mother, named Skomalt, but their island got loose and drifted on the ocean for many suns, and as a result they became darkened to their present hue. Ross gives also an account of the belief of the Oakinackens in a good spirit, one of whose names is Skyappe, and a bad spirit, one of whose names was Chacha. The chief deity of those Indians seems to have been the great mother of life, Skomalt, whose name also has the addition of "Squisses." Ross says that those Indians change their names constantly and doubtless their deities did the same.