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

by William Denison Lyman

By W. W. Walter

In December, 1847, word reached the settlements in Oregon that the Cayuse Indians had killed Doctor Whitman and wife and twelve others. A runner carried the word to Vancouver, and a messenger was at once dispatched to Oregon City to Governor Abernethy, while Peter Skeen Ogden, factor of the Hudson's Bay Company, with a small company of Hudson's Bay men set out at once for the scene of the massacre—where he accomplished his wonderful work of ransoming the white captives held by the Indians.

"No other power on earth," says Joe Meek, the American, "could have rescued those prisoners from the hands of the Indians." And no man better than Mr. Meek understood the Indian character, or the Hudson's Bay Company's power over them.

The Oregon Legislature was in session when the message from Vancouver arrived, telling of the massacre. A call was made at once for fifty riflemen to proceed at once to The Dalles—to guard the settlements below from an invasion of the Indians. This company was known as the "First Oregon Riflemen."

Word came that the Cayuse Indians were coming to kill all the settlers in Oregon, and it was deemed best to meet the hostiles on their own ground.

After the first fifty men had started for The Dalles, five companies of volunteers were organized. I went from Tualatin County (now Washington) in Capt. Lawrence Hall's company of volunteers—every man furnishing his own horse and equipment—every one who could contribute a gun, or a little powder and lead—that was the way we got our munitions of war.

We rendezvoused at Portland, awaiting marching orders, which were given about January 1, 1848. We were in Portland a week or more, and I remember myself and some other lads made a ride back to the Plains to attend a dance—Christmas week.

About January 1, 1848, we started for the Cayuse Country, three hundred men, all told—we marched across the country and ferried over the Columbia at Vancouver. There the Hudson's Bay Company let us have a cannon, and it was an elephant on our hands.

From Vancouver we traveled up the north side of the Columbia (dragging that old cannon along) to a place above the Cascades where we built a ferry boat and crossed the river again to the south side and followed up the trails to the Dalles. We still kept our cannon, making portages with it, and at the Dalles mounted the thing on a wagon. The fifty men stationed there to hold the Mission were greatly annoyed by the Indians, and just after we arrived a report was brought in that there were hostile Indians up the Deschutes River, and two of our men on horse guard were decoyed by the Indians and killed. It happened thus: The Indians stripped their horses and let them graze near the guards, giving the impression they were loose horses. Our men thought them their own horses and went after them, when the Indians, who were concealed in the grass with ropes on their horses, fired and killed the two men. Those were the first men killed in the war.

So when we heard of the Indians up the Deschutes we were anxious for a fight and started for them. The battleground was at the mouth of Tygh Creek on the ridge where we, as emigrants, had come down the Deschutes hill two years before. We met the Indians early in the morning. The first we knew of their whereabouts we saw them formed in line on the front of a high hill. To reach them we had to climb that hill, facing their fire. We left our horses and took it afoot up that hill, but they did not stand long—we soon routed them—we had but one man wounded. We followed up with continuous firing on both sides—then we had our horses brought up and gave chase. As the country was level on top the hill we followed them five or six miles—they outstripped us, as they had splendid fresh horses; we skirmished all that day—camped on the hill at night, then the next day followed on until we reached their deserted camp. There we found a very old and feeble Indian man and woman—too old to travel. They were deserted and alone, with a little pile of food lying by them. They refused to talk, so we learned nothing from them—so we left them undisturbed and returned to the Dalles, where we fitted up some old emigrant wagons and got some emigrant cattle and Mission cattle, and made up a train of wagons to haul what little supplies we had with us. We now started for the upper country, following the old emigrant road.