"In February father went up the country to select a land claim. I think his was the first claim taken south of the Rickreall. The town of Dallas stands on part of it. He came back with a glowing account of the country he had seen and particularly of the place that he had selected for a home. So we got ready and as early in March as traveling was good we started for our new home. We arrived there the 16th of March, it being Sunday. The whole country was a natural park, and, combined with the ideal spring day that we reached there, made it seem to me like dreamland.
"We went to work in good earnest building a log cabin, but before we could complete it we were overtaken by the equinoctial storm, which gave us some very serious discomfort. The next thing to do was to put in some garden and sow some wheat. Will say that nature gave us a bountiful yield in both field and garden.
"During this season we suffered some privations in food. For instance, at times we had to substitute boiled wheat for bread. It is hardly necessary to say that we did not do this from choice, but having plenty of wild meat, milk and butter, we could have a meal that would hardly pass muster now, but I can assure you that a person would be a long time starving to death on it. We never had any shortage of breadstuffs after the first season, for there was a grist-mill built in the immediate neighborhood the next year, where we could get flour any time."
Mr. Gilliam's brief reference to Dr. Whitman is of special value:
"A large share of the immigrants who wintered at Dr. Whitman's during the season settled in our immediate neighborhood and I learned a great deal about the Doctor's character from them. It seemed as if he had made a deep impression on them, for they talked a great deal about him, and from their talk I came to have a high regard for him. They told me that he would come home from Wallula, a distance of twenty-five miles, before breakfast, or if necessary go up to where they were building the sawmill, a distance of eighteen miles, before breakfast. In fact, his energy seemed to have no bounds and no obstacle with him seemed insurmountable. It was this summer of 1845 that he visited Willamette Valley and while there he called on my father, and as it happened I was away from home and therefore failed to see him, a circumstance that I have always regretted, more especially since he has become such an important figure in history."
The portraiture of early conditions in the Willamette, reference to his father's death, gold discovery, and then settlement in the Walla Walla country follow:
"The immigration of 1847 brought from Washington City father's appointment as postal agent with instructions from the Post Office Department concerning the same. On a recent visit with my sister at Dallas, Ore., who has all the papers, I had the pleasure of inspecting them anew. I found them queer reading from our standpoint.
"In the fall of 1847 father disposed of the place we settled on and moved up the country about twelve miles and bought a place on Pedee. This fall one of my sisters married. In the meantime some Indians had become acquainted with us and were living in the immediate neighborhood. They took some interest in the wedding and were very curious to know what her husband gave for her, it being their custom to sell their daughters into marriage. They were surprised beyond measure when told that she was given to him.
"It was November of this year that the Whitman massacre occurred. Father was at once notified that he was requested to take command and of the volunteers that were to be raised to march against the hostile Indians. He left home abruptly early in December, never to return. His death was the heaviest blow that has ever befallen me.
"The next year was one long to be remembered in Oregon. It was the year of the discovery of gold in California. It was late in August that reports of the discovery began to reach Oregon. They reported the mines to be so rich that at first they were discredited; but they were soon confirmed in such a way as to relieve all doubts. It would be hard to exaggerate the excitement that was raised upon the confirmation of the news. In fact, it would be hard to excite a community in any other way to the pitch ours was on this occasion, more especially when we consider how small it was. Everybody that could get away dropped their business and left. My brother-in-law and I rigged ourselves out with a saddle horse and pack-horse apiece and started. We had to travel through the Rogue River and Klamath countries in considerable bands to protect ourselves against the hostile Indians, but by the time we got to where it was dangerous we had fallen in with plenty of company, so we had no trouble on that score. We passed through the hostile country without being attacked or having any horses stolen. In fact, to me it was a trip that afforded me some of the keenest kind of pleasure, new scenery every day and some of it, Mt. Shasta, for instance, was of the grandest kind. It was the first time I had left the parental roof.