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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Log School-House on the Columbia, by
+Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Log School-House on the Columbia
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2005  [eBook #14881]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE
+COLUMBIA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Emmy and Ben Beasley, Audrey Longhurst, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 14881-h.htm or 14881-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/8/14881/14881-h/14881-h.htm)
+      or
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+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA
+
+A Tale of the Pioneers of the Great Northwest
+
+by
+
+HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH
+
+Author of the Zigzag Books
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+1890
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+New York
+D. Appleton and Company
+
+
+[Illustration: _Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast._]
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+A year or more ago one of the librarians in charge of the young people's
+books in the Boston Public Library called my attention to the fact that
+there were few books of popular information in regard to the pioneers of
+the great Northwest. The librarian suggested that I should write a story
+that would give a view of the heroic lives of the pioneers of Oregon and
+Washington.
+
+Soon after this interview I met a distinguished educator who had lately
+returned from the Columbia River, who told me the legend of the old chief
+who died of grief in the grave of his son, somewhat in the manner
+described in this volume. The legend had those incidental qualities that
+haunt a susceptible imagination, and it was told to me in such a dramatic
+way that I could not put it out of my mind.
+
+A few weeks after hearing this haunting legend I went over the Rocky
+Mountains by the Canadian Pacific Railway, and visited the Columbia River
+and the scenes associated with the Indian story. I met in Washington,
+Yesler, Denney, and Hon. Elwood Evans, the historian; visited the daughter
+of Seattle, the chief, "Old Angeline"; and gathered original stories in
+regard to the pioneers of the Puget Sound country from many sources. In
+this atmosphere the legend grew upon me, and the outgrowth of it is this
+volume, which, amid a busy life of editorial and other work, has forced
+itself upon my experience.
+
+                                                H.B.
+
+    28 WORCESTER STREET, BOSTON, July 4, 1890
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+CHAPTER
+
+    I.  GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN
+
+   II.  THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES
+
+  III.  "BOSTON TILICUM"
+
+   IV.  MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR, LITTLE "ROLL OVER"
+
+    V.  THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE
+
+   VI.  THE MOUNTAIN LION
+
+  VII.  THE "SMOKE-TALK"
+
+ VIII.  THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST OF THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI
+
+   IX.  GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES
+
+    X.  MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE "ROLL OVER" AGAIN
+
+   XI.  MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
+
+  XII.  OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING
+
+ XIII.  A WARNING
+
+  XIV.  THE POTLATCH
+
+   XV.  THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN
+
+  XVI.  A SILENT TRIBE
+
+ XVII.  A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE
+
+XVIII.  THE LIFTED CLOUD--THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER
+
+
+HISTORICAL NOTES.
+
+  I.  Vancouver
+
+ II.  The Oregon Trail
+
+III.  Governor Stevens
+
+ IV.  Seattle the Chief
+
+  V.  Whitman's Ride for Oregon
+
+ VI.  Mount Saint Helens
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast      E. J. Austen (Frontispiece)
+
+Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls
+
+"Here were mountains grander than Olympus."
+  The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma
+
+In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of
+  the cabin      A. E. Pope
+
+The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed
+  after him in his talons      E.J. Austen
+
+The mountain lion      D. Carter Beard
+
+An Indian village on the Columbia
+
+Afar loomed Mount Hood
+
+A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn
+
+At the Cascades of the Columbia
+
+Multnomah Falls in earlier years.
+            Redrawn by Walter C. Greenough
+
+The old chief stood stoical and silent. E. J. Austen
+
+Middle block-house at the Cascades
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN.
+
+
+An elderly woman and a German girl were walking along the old Indian trail
+that led from the northern mountains to the Columbia River. The river was
+at this time commonly called the Oregon, as in Bryant's poem:
+
+            "Where rolls the Oregon,
+    And no sound is heard save its own dashings."
+
+The girl had a light figure, a fair, open face, and a high forehead with
+width in the region of ideality, and she carried under her arm a long
+black case in which was a violin. The woman had lived in one of the
+valleys of the Oregon for several years, but the German girl had recently
+arrived in one of the colonies that had lately come to the territory
+under the missionary agency of the Rev. Jason Lee.
+
+There came a break in the tall, cool pines that lined the trail and that
+covered the path with glimmering shadows. Through the opening the high
+summits of Mount St. Helens glittered like a city of pearl, far, far away
+in the clear, bright air. The girl's blue eyes opened wide, and her feet
+stumbled.
+
+"There, there you go again down in the hollow! Haven't you any eyes? I
+would think you had by the looks of them. Well, Gretchen, they were placed
+right in the front of your head so as to look forward; they would have
+been put in the top of your head if it had been meant that you should look
+up to the sky in that way. What is it you see?"
+
+"Oh, mother, I wish I was--an author."
+
+"An author! What put that into your simple head? You meant to say you
+would like to be a poet, but you didn't dare to, because you know I don't
+approve of such things. People who get such flighty ideas into their loose
+minds always find the world full of hollows. No, Gretchen, I am willing
+you should play on the violin, though some of the Methody do not approve
+of that; and that you should finger the musical glasses in the
+evening--they have a religious sound and soothe me, like; but the reading
+of poetry and novels I never did countenance, except Methody hymns and the
+'Fool of Quality,' and as for the writing of poetry, it is a Boston notion
+and an ornary habit. Nature is all full of poetry out here, and what this
+country needs is pioneers, not poets."
+
+There came into view another opening among the pines as the two went on.
+The sun was ascending a cloudless sky, and far away in the cerulean arch
+of glimmering splendors the crystal peaks and domes of St. Helens appeared
+again.
+
+The girl stopped.
+
+"What now?" said the woman, testily.
+
+"Look--yonder!"
+
+"Look yonder--what for? That's nothing but a mountain, a great waste of
+land all piled up to the sky, and covered with a lot of ice and snow. I
+don't see what they were made for, any way--just to make people go round,
+I suppose, so that the world will not be too easy for them."
+
+"Oh, mother, I do not see how you can feel so out here! I never dreamed of
+anything so beautiful!"
+
+"Feel so out here! What do you mean? Haven't I always been good to you?
+Didn't I give you a good home in Lynn after your father and mother died?
+Wasn't I a mother to you? Didn't I nurse you through the fever? Didn't I
+send for you to come way out here with the immigrants, and did you ever
+find a better friend in the world than I have been to you?"
+
+"Yes, mother, but--"
+
+"And don't I let you play the violin, which the Methody elder didn't much
+approve of?"
+
+"Yes, mother, you have always been good to me, and I love you more than
+anybody else on earth."
+
+There swept into view a wild valley of giant trees, and rose clear above
+it, a scene of overwhelming magnificence.
+
+"Oh, mother, I can hardly look at it--isn't it splendid? It makes me feel
+like crying."
+
+The practical, resolute woman was about to say, "Well, look the other way
+then," but she checked the rude words. The girl had told her that she
+loved her more than any one else in the world, and the confession had
+touched her heart.
+
+"Well, Gretchen, that mountain used to make me feel so sometimes when I
+first came out here. I always thought that the mountains would look
+_peakeder_ than they do. I didn't think that they would take up so much
+of the land. I suppose that they are all well enough in their way, but a
+pioneer woman has no time for sentiments, except hymns. I don't feel like
+you now, and I don't think that I ever did. I couldn't learn to play the
+violin and the musical glasses if I were to try, and I am sure that I
+should never go out into the woodshed to try to rhyme _sun_ with _fun_;
+no, Gretchen, all such follies as these I should _shun_. What difference
+does it make whether a word rhymes with one word or another?"
+
+To the eye of the poetic and musical German girl the dead volcano, with
+its green base and frozen rivers and dark, glimmering lines of carbon,
+seemed like a fairy tale, a celestial vision, an ascent to some city of
+crystal and pearl in the sky. To her foster mother the stupendous scene
+was merely a worthless waste, as to Wordsworth's unspiritual wanderer:
+
+    "A primrose by the river's brim,
+     A yellow primrose was to him,
+     And it was nothing more."
+
+She was secretly pleased at Gretchen's wonder and surprise at the new
+country, but somehow she felt it her duty to talk querulously, and to
+check the flow of the girl's emotions, which she did much to excite. Her
+own life had been so circumscribed and hard that the day seemed to be too
+bright to be speaking the truth. She peered into the sky for a cloud, but
+there was none, on this dazzling Oregon morning. The trail now opened for
+a long way before the eyes of the travelers. Far ahead gleamed the
+pellucid waters of the Columbia, or Oregon. Half-way between them and the
+broad, rolling river a dark, tall figure appeared.
+
+"Gretchen?"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"Gretchen, look! There goes the Yankee schoolmaster. Came way out here
+over the mountains to teach the people of the wilderness, and all for
+nothing, too. That shows that people have souls--some people have. Walk
+right along beside me, proper-like. You needn't ever tell any one that I
+ain't your true mother. If I ain't ashamed of you, you needn't be ashamed
+of me. I wish that you were my own girl, now that you have said that you
+love me more than anybody else in the world. That remark kind o' touched
+me. I know that I sometimes talk hard, but I mean well, and I have to tell
+you the plain truth so as to do my duty by you, and then I won't have
+anything to reflect upon.
+
+"Just look at him! Straight as an arrow! They say that his folks are
+rich. Come out here way over the mountains, and is just going to teach
+school in a log school-house--all made of logs and sods and mud-plaster,
+adobe they call it--a graduate of Harvard College, too."
+
+A long, dark object appeared in the trees covered with bark and moss.
+Behind these trees was a waterfall, over which hung the crowns of pines.
+The sunlight sifted through the odorous canopy, and fell upon the strange,
+dark object that lay across the branching limbs of two ancient trees.
+
+Gretchen stopped again.
+
+"Mother, what is that?"
+
+"A grave--an Indian grave."
+
+The Indians bury their dead in the trees out here, or used to do so. A
+brown hawk arose from the mossy coffin and winged its way wildly into the
+sunny heights of the air. It had made its nest on the covering of the
+body. These new scenes were all very strange to the young German girl.
+
+The trail was bordered with young ferns; wild violets lay in beds of
+purple along the running streams, and the mountain phlox with its kindling
+buds carpeted the shelving ways under the murmuring pines. The woman and
+girl came at last to a wild, open space; before them rolled the Oregon,
+beyond it stretched a great treeless plain, and over it towered a gigantic
+mountain, in whose crown, like a jewel, shone a resplendent glacier.
+
+Just before them, on the bluffs of the river, under three gigantic
+evergreens, each of which was more than two hundred feet high, stood an
+odd structure of logs and sods, which the builders called the Sod
+School-house. It was not a sod school-house in the sense in which the term
+has been applied to more recent structures in the treeless prairie
+districts of certain mid-ocean States; it was rudely framed of pine, and
+was furnished with a pine desk and benches.
+
+Along the river lay a plateau full of flowers, birds, and butterflies, and
+over the great river and flowering plain the clear air glimmered. Like
+some sun-god's abode in the shadow of ages, St. Helens still lifted her
+silver tents in the far sky. Eagles and mountain birds wheeled, shrieking
+joyously, here and there. Below the bluffs the silent salmon-fishers
+awaited their prey, and down the river with paddles apeak drifted the bark
+canoes of Cayuses and Umatillas.
+
+[Illustration: _Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls._]
+
+A group of children were gathered about the open door of the new
+school-house, and among them rose the tall form of Marlowe Mann, the
+Yankee schoolmaster.
+
+He had come over the mountains some years before in the early expeditions
+organized and directed by Dr. Marcus Whitman, of the American Board of
+Missions. Whether the mission to the Cayuses and Walla Wallas, which Dr.
+Whitman established on the bend of the Columbia, was then regarded as a
+home or foreign field of work, we can not say. The doctor's solitary ride
+of four thousand miles, in order to save the great Northwest territory to
+the United States, is one of the most poetic and dramatic episodes of
+American history. It has proved to be worth to our country more than all
+the money that has been given to missionary enterprises. Should the Puget
+Sound cities become the great ports of Asia, and the ships of commerce
+drift from Seattle and Tacoma over the Japan current to the Flowery Isles
+and China; should the lumber, coal, minerals, and wheat-fields of
+Washington, Oregon, Montana, and Idaho at last compel these cities to
+rival New York and Boston, the populous empire will owe to the patriotic
+missionary zeal of Dr. Whitman a debt which it can only pay in honor and
+love. Dr. Whitman was murdered by the Indians soon after the settlement of
+the Walla Walla country by the pioneers from the Eastern States.
+
+Mr. Mann's inspiration to become a missionary pioneer on the Oregon had
+been derived from a Boston schoolmaster whose name also the Northwest
+should honor. An inspired soul with a prophet's vision usually goes before
+the great movements of life; solitary men summon the march of progress,
+then decrease while others increase. Hall J. Kelley was a teacher of the
+olden time, well known in Boston almost a century ago. He became possessed
+with the idea that Oregon was destined to become a great empire. He
+collected all possible information about the territory, and organized
+emigration schemes, the first of which started from St. Louis in 1828, and
+failed. He talked of Oregon continually. The subject haunted him day and
+night. It was he who inspired Rev. Jason Lee, the pioneer of the
+Willamette Valley. Lee interested Senator Linn, of Missouri, in Oregon,
+and this senator, on December 11, 1838, introduced the bill into Congress
+which organized the Territory.
+
+Some of the richly endowed new schools of Oregon would honor history by a
+monumental recognition of the name of Hall J. Kelley, the old
+schoolmaster, whose dreams were of the Columbia, and who inspired some of
+his pupils to become resolute pioneers. Boston was always a friend to
+Washington and Oregon. Where the old schoolmaster now rests we do not
+know. Probably in a neglected grave amid the briers and mosses of some old
+cemetery on the Atlantic coast.
+
+When Marlowe Mann came to the Northwest he found the Indian tribes unquiet
+and suspicious of the new settlements. One of the pioneers had caused a
+sickness among some thievish Indians by putting emetic poison in
+watermelons. The Indians believed these melons to have been conjured by
+the white doctor, and when other sickness came among them, they attributed
+it to the same cause. The massacre at Waülaptu and the murder of Whitman
+grew in part out of these events.
+
+Mr. Mann settled near the old Chief of the Cascades. He sought the Indian
+friendship of this chief, and asked him for his protection.
+
+"People fulfill the expectation of the trust put in them--Indians as well
+as children," he used to say. "A boy fulfills the ideals of his
+mother--what the mother believes the boy will be, that he will become.
+Treat a thief as though he were honest, and he will be honest with you. We
+help people to be better by believing in what is good in them. I am going
+to trust the friendship of the old Chief of the Cascades, and he will
+never betray it."
+
+It was summer, and there was to be a great Indian Potlatch feast under the
+autumn moon. The Potlatch is a feast of gifts. It is usually a peaceful
+gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances; but it bodes
+war and massacre and danger if it end with the dance of the evil spirits,
+or the devil dance, as it has been known--a dance which the English
+Government has recently forbidden among the Northwestern tribes.
+
+The Indians were demanding that the great fall Potlatch should end with
+this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of blood. The white people
+everywhere were disturbed by these reports, for they feared what might be
+the secret intent of this wild revel. The settlers all regarded with
+apprehension the October moon.
+
+The tall schoolmaster watched the approach of Mrs. Woods and Gretchen with
+a curious interest. The coming of a pupil with no books and a violin was
+something unexpected. He stepped forward with a courtly grace and greeted
+them most politely, for wherever Marlowe Mann might be, he never forgot
+that he was a gentleman.
+
+"This is my gal what I have brought to be educated," said Mrs. Woods,
+proudly. "They think a great deal of education up around Boston where I
+came from. Where did you come from?"
+
+"From Boston."
+
+"So I have been told--from Harvard College. Can I speak with you a minute
+in private?"
+
+"Yes, madam. Step aside."
+
+"I suppose you are kinder surprised that I let my gal there, Gretchen,
+bring her violin with her; but I have a secret to tell ye. Gretchen is a
+kind of a poet, makes rhymes, she does; makes _fool_ rhyme with _school_,
+and such things as that. Now, I don't take any interest in such things.
+But she does play the violin beautiful. Learned of a German teacher. Now,
+do you want to know why I let her bring her violin? Well, I thought it
+might _help_ you. You've got a hard lot of scholars to deal with out here,
+and there are Injuns around, too, and one never knows what they may do.
+
+"Well, schoolmaster, you never heard nothin' like that violin. It isn't no
+evil spirit that is in Gretchen's violin; it's an angel. I first noticed
+it one day when husband and I had been havin' some words. We have words
+sometimes. I have a lively mind, and know how to use words when I am
+opposed. Well, one day when husband and I had been havin' words, which we
+shouldn't, seein' we are Methody, Gretchen began to cry, and went and got
+her violin, and began to play just like a bird. And my high temper all
+melted away, and my mind went back to the old farm in New England, and I
+declare, schoolmaster, I just threw my apron over my head and began to
+cry, and I told Gretchen never to play that tune again when I was talking
+to husband for his good.
+
+"Well, one day there came a lot of Injuns to the house and demanded
+fire-water. I am Methody, and don't keep any such things in the house.
+Husband is a sober, honest man. Now, I've always noticed that an Injun is
+a coward, and I think the best way to get along with Injuns is to appear
+not to fear them. So I ordered the stragglers away, when one of them swung
+his tommyhawk about my head, and the others threatened to kill me. How my
+heart did beat! Gretchen began to cry; then she ran all at once for her
+violin and played the very same tune, and the Injuns just stood like so
+many dumb statues and listened, and, when the tune was over, one of them
+said 'Spirits,' and they all went away like so many children.
+
+"Now, I thought you would like to hear my gal play between schools, and,
+if ever you should get into any trouble with your scholars or Injuns or
+anybody, just call upon Gretchen, and she will play that tune on the
+violin."
+
+"What wonderful tune is it, madam?"
+
+"I don't know. I don't know one tune from another, though I do sing the
+old Methody hymns that I learned in Lynn when I am about my work. I don't
+know whether she knows or not. She learned it of a German."
+
+"I am glad that you let her bring the instrument. I once played the violin
+myself in the orchestra of the Boston Handel and Haydn Society."
+
+"Did you? Then you like it. I have a word or two more to say about
+Gretchen. She's a good gal, and shows her bringing up. Teach her reading,
+writing, and figures. You needn't teach her no grammar. I could always
+talk without any grammar, in the natural way. I was a bound-girl, and
+never had much education. I have had my ups and downs in life, like all
+the rest of the world. You will do the best you can for Gretchen, won't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, my dear madam, and for every one. I try to make every one true to
+the best that is in them. I am glad to have Gretchen for a scholar. I will
+speak to her by and by."
+
+How strange was the scene to Gretchen! She remembered the winding Rhine,
+with its green hills and terraced vineyards and broken-walled castles;
+Basel and the singing of the student clubs in the gardens on summer
+evenings; the mountain-like church at Strasburg; and the old streets of
+Mayence. She recalled the legends and music of the river of song--a river
+that she had once thought to be the most beautiful on earth. But what were
+the hills of the Rhine to the scenery that pierced the blue sky around
+her, and how light seemed the river itself to the majestic flow of the
+Columbia! Yet the home-land haunted her. Would she go back again? How
+would her real parents have felt had they known that she would have found
+a home here in the wilderness? Why had Providence led her steps here? Her
+mother had been a pious Lutheran. Had she been led here to help in some
+future mission to the Indian race?
+
+"Dreaming?" said Mrs. Woods. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. If a
+body has the misfortune to be kiting off to the clouds, going up like an
+eagle and coming down like a goose, it can't be helped. There are a great
+many things that can't be helped in this world, and all we can do is to
+make the best of them. Some people were born to live in the skies, and it
+makes it hard for those who have to try to live with them. Job suffered
+some things, but--I won't scold out here--I have my trials; but it may be
+they are all for the best, as the Scripture says."
+
+These forbearing remarks were not wholly meant for Gretchen's reproval.
+Mrs. Woods liked to have the world know that she had her trials, and she
+was pleased to find so many ears on this bright morning open to her
+experiences.
+
+She liked to say to Gretchen things that were meant for other ears; there
+was novelty in the indirection. She also was accustomed to quote freely
+from the Scriptures and from the Methodist hymnbook, which was almost her
+only accomplishment. She had led a simple, hard-working life in her
+girlhood; had become a follower of Jason Lee during one of the old-time
+revivals of religion; had heard of the Methodist emigration to Oregon, and
+wished to follow it. She hardly knew why. Though rough in speech and
+somewhat peculiar, she was a kind-hearted and an honest woman, and very
+industrious and resolute. Mr. Lee saw in her the spirit of a pioneer, and
+advised her to join his colony. She married Mr. Woods, went to the Dalles
+of the Columbia, and afterward to her present home upon a donation claim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.
+
+
+Marlowe Mann was a graduate of Harvard in the classic period of the
+college. He had many scholarly gifts, and as many noble qualities of soul
+as mental endowments. He was used to the oratory of Henry Ware and young
+Edward Everett, and had known Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips at
+college, when the Greek mind and models led the young student in his fine
+development, and made him a Pericles in his dreams.
+
+But the young student of this heroic training, no matter how well
+conditioned his family, usually turned from his graduation to some
+especial mission in life. "I must put myself into a cause," said young
+Wendell Phillips. Charles Sumner espoused the struggle of the negro for
+freedom, and said: "To this cause do I offer all I have." Marlowe Mann was
+a member of the historic Old South Church, like Phillips in his early
+years. There was an enthusiasm for missions in the churches of Boston
+then, and he began to dream of Oregon and the mysterious empire of the
+great Northwest, as pictured by the old schoolmaster, Kelley; just at this
+time came Dr. Whitman to the East, half frozen from his long ride, and
+asked to lead an emigration to Walla Walla, to save the Northern empire to
+the territory of the States. He heard the doctor's thrilling story of how
+he had unfurled the flag over the open Bible on the crags that looked down
+on the valleys of the Oregon, and his resolution was made. He did not
+follow Dr. Whitman on the first expedition of colonists, but joined him a
+year or two afterward. He built him a log-cabin on the Columbia, and gave
+his whole soul to teaching, missionary work among the Indians, and to
+bringing emigrants from the East.
+
+The country thrilled him--its magnificent scenery, the grandeur of the
+Columbia, the vastness of the territory, and the fertility of the soil.
+Here were mountains grander than Olympus, and harbors and water-courses as
+wonderful as the Ægean. He was almost afraid to map the truth in his
+extensive correspondence with the East, lest it should seem so incredible
+as to defeat his purpose.
+
+[Illustration: _The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma._]
+
+When the log school-house was building, Mr. Mann had gone to the old
+Chief of the Cascades and had invited him to send his Indian boy to the
+school. He had shown him what an advantage it would be to the young chief
+to understand more thoroughly Chinook and English. He was wise and politic
+in the matter as well as large-hearted, for he felt that the school might
+need the friendliness of the old chief, and in no way could it be better
+secured.
+
+"The world treats you as you treat the world," he said; "and what you are
+to the world, the world is to you. Tell me only what kind of a
+neighborhood you come from, and I will tell you what kind of a
+neighborhood you are going to; we all see the world in ourselves. I will
+educate the boy, and his father will protect the school. The Indian heart
+is hot and revengeful, but it is honest and true. I intend to be honest
+with the Indians in all things, and if there should occur a dance of the
+evil spirits at the Potlatch, no harm will ever come to the log
+school-house; and I do not believe that such a dance with evil intent to
+the settlers will ever take place. Human nature is all one book
+everywhere."
+
+As he stood there that morning, with uncovered head, an unexpected event
+happened. The children suddenly said:
+
+"Look!" and "Umatilla!"
+
+Out of the forest came an aged Indian, of gigantic stature--Umatilla, one
+of the chiefs of the Cascades; and beside him walked his only son, the
+Light of the Eagle's Plume, or, as he had been named by the English,
+Benjamin.
+
+Umatilla, like Massasoit, of the early colonial history of Plymouth, was a
+remarkable person. Surrounded by warlike tribes, he had been a man of
+peace. He was a lover of Nature, and every shining cloud to his eye was a
+chariot. He personified everything, like the ancient Greeks. He talked in
+poetic figures; to him the sky was alive, every event had a soul, and his
+mind had dwelt upon the great truths of Nature until he had become more of
+a philosopher than a ruler.
+
+He had been the father of a large family, but six of his sons had died of
+the plague, or rather of the treatment which the medicine-men had used in
+the disease, which was to sweat the victims in hot earthen ovens, and then
+plunge them into the Columbia.
+
+His whole heart in his old age was fixed upon his only son, Benjamin. The
+two were seldom separated. To make the boy happy was the end of the old
+chief's life.
+
+The two approached the courtly schoolmaster.
+
+"White master," said the old chief, "I have brought to you the Light of
+the Eagle's Plume. He is my heart, and will be the heart of my people when
+my suns are all passed over and my stars gone out. Will you teach him to
+be a good chief? I want him to know English, and how to worship the Master
+of Life. Will you take him to your school lodge?"
+
+The tall master bowed low, and took the Indian boy by the hand.
+
+The boy was a princely youth. His figure would have held the eye of a
+sculptor in long admiration. The chisel of a Phidias could hardly have
+exceeded such a form. His features were like the Roman, his eye quick and
+lustrous, and his lips noble and kindly. He wore a blanket over his
+shoulders, gathered in a long sash, ornamented with shells, about his
+loins, and a crest of eagle plumes and shells on his head indicated his
+rank and dignity. He could speak some words of Chinook, and English
+imperfectly. He had mingled much with the officers of the Hudson Bay
+Company, and so had learned many of the customs of civilization.
+
+"I am honored," said the courtly, tall schoolmaster, "in having such a
+youth for my pupil. Chief of the Umatillas, I thank thee. All that is good
+in me will I give to your noble boy. I live with my eye upon the future;
+the work of my life is to lead people to follow their better natures and
+to be true to their best selves. There is a good angel in all men
+here"--he put his hand on his heart--"it leads men away from evil; it
+seeks the way of life; its end is yonder with the Infinite. Chief of the
+Umatillas, I will try to teach the young man to follow it. Do you
+understand?"
+
+The aged chief bowed. He caught the meaning of the thought, if not of the
+rather formal words. He comprehended the idea that the tall schoolmaster
+believed goodness to be immortal. The regions of the Cascades were indeed
+beautiful with their ancient forests and gleaming mountain walls, but he
+had been taught to believe that the great Master of Life had provided
+eternal scenes that transcended these for those who were worthy to receive
+them.
+
+An unexpected turn came to this stately and pacific interview. Mrs. Woods
+was piqued at the deference that the tall schoolmaster had shown to the
+chief and his son. She walked about restlessly, cut a rod from one of the
+trees with a large knife which she always carried with her, and at last
+called the master aside again.
+
+"Say, mister, here. You ain't going to take that young Injun into your
+school, are you? There'll be trouble, now, if you do. Know Injuns--you
+don't. You are young, but 'tain't best for you to eat all your apples
+green. I've always been very particular about the company I keep, if I was
+born poor and have had to work hard, and never studied no foreign
+languages. I warn you!"
+
+She raised her voice, and Benjamin heard what she had said. He suspected
+her ill-will toward him from her manner, but he comprehended the meaning
+of her last words.
+
+He at first looked puzzled and grieved, then suddenly his thin lips were
+pressed together; the passion of anger was possessing him, soon to be
+followed by the purpose of revenge.
+
+Mrs. Woods saw that she had gone too far in the matter, and that her
+spirit and meaning had been discovered by the son of the chief. The danger
+to which she had exposed herself made her nervous. But she began to act on
+her old principle never to show fear in the presence of an Indian.
+
+"Here, mister, I must go now," she said, in a loud voice. "Take this rod,
+and govern your school like a man. If I were a teacher, I'd make my
+scholars smart in more ways than one." She held out the rod to the master.
+
+There was a movement in the air like a flash. Benjamin, with noiseless
+feet, had slipped up behind her. He had conceived the idea that the offer
+of the rod somehow meant enmity to him. He seized the rod from behind the
+woman, and, sweeping it through the air, with kindled eye and glowing
+cheeks, wheeled before the master.
+
+"Boston tilicum, don't you dare!"
+
+"Boston tilicum" was the Chinook for an American, and the Chinook or trade
+language had become common to all the tribes on the Columbia. The early
+American traders on the Northern Pacific coast were from Boston.
+
+He raised the rod aloft defiantly like a young champion, and presented a
+heroic figure, which excited the tremulous admiration and wonder of the
+little group. He then pointed it toward Mrs. Woods, and said
+contemptuously in Chinook:
+
+"Cloochman!" (woman).
+
+The scene changed to the comical. Mrs. Woods snatched off her broad
+sun-bonnet, revealing her gray hair, and assumed an appearance of
+defiance, though her heart was really trembling with fear.
+
+"I ain't afraid of no Injuns," she said, "and I don't take any impudence
+from anybody. I've had to fight the whole world all my life, and I've
+always conquered. There--now--there!"
+
+She whipped the rod out of the young Indian's hand.
+
+Benjamin's eyes blazed.
+
+"Closche nanitch" (look out), he said. "I am an Umatilla. Siwash (Indian)
+will remember. There are hawks in the sky."
+
+"Kamooks" (dog), returned Mrs. Woods, defiantly. "Kamooks."
+
+She would have said "cultus" had she dared. "Cultus" is the most insulting
+word that can be applied to an Indian, and, when it is used, it invites
+the most deadly revenge. The word had come to her lips, but she had not
+the courage to invoke the consequences of such a taunt.
+
+But the young Indian further excited her. He shook the rod at her, and her
+passion mastered her prudence. She struggled with herself, and was silent
+for a few moments. But, suddenly catching the young Indian's eye, which
+had in it a savage triumph, she exclaimed:
+
+"Cultus Umatilla--"
+
+The old chief stepped forward and lifted his hands.
+
+"Pil-pil" (blood), said Benjamin. "There are hawks in the air--"
+
+"Be still!" said the chief.
+
+"--they whet their beaks," continued Benjamin. "Potlatch!"
+
+The whole company were filled with excitement or terror. Gretchen
+trembled, and began to cry. Three Indians were seen coming down the trail,
+and the sight seemed to fill Benjamin with a mysterious delight. Mrs.
+Woods saw them with secret fear, and the master with apprehension. Several
+of the children began to cry, and there was a look of pain, terror, or
+distress on all the faces.
+
+Suddenly Gretchen stepped apart from the group and lifted to her shoulder
+her violin.
+
+A hunting strain rose on the bright morning air. It seemed like the flight
+of a singing bird.
+
+The chief's arms dropped. The music arose like a sweet memory of all that
+is good and beautiful.
+
+The three Indians stopped to listen. The music became more sweet and
+entrancing. The anger went out of Benjamin's face, and there came better
+feelings into his soul.
+
+The music breathed of the Rhine, of vineyards and festivals, but he
+understood it not; to him it recalled the mysterious legends of the
+Umatillas, the mysteries of life, and the glory of the heroes who slept
+on the island of the dead or amid the sweetly sighing branches of the
+trees. The air was the _Traumerei_.
+
+When the music ceased there was a long silence. In it Mrs. Woods turned
+away slowly, with a word of advice to Gretchen that under other
+circumstances would have appeared amusing:
+
+"Behave yourself like a lady," she said, "and remember your bringing up.
+Good-morning to ye all."
+
+The little group watched her as she moved safely away. A little black bear
+crossed her path as she was entering the wood, and stopped on the way. But
+her steps were growing rapid, and, as she did not seem to regard him as a
+matter of any consequence, he turned and ran. The company smiled, and so
+the peril of the morning seemed to pass away.
+
+The scene would have been comical but for the painful look in the kindly
+face of the old Chief of the Cascades. He had come toward the school-house
+with high hopes, and what had happened caused him pain. The word
+"Potlatch," spoken by the Indian boy, had caused his brow to cloud and his
+face to turn dark.
+
+"We will all go into the house," said the master. "Umatilla, will you not
+honor us with a visit this morning?"
+
+"No--me come this afternoon for the boy; me wait for him outside. Boston
+tilicum, let me speak to you a little. I am a father."
+
+"Yes, and a good father."
+
+"I am a father--you no understand--Boston tilicum--father. I want you to
+teach him like a father--not you understand?"
+
+"Yes, I understand."
+
+"Father--teacher--you, Boston tilicum."
+
+"Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin."
+
+"I die some day. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, I understand."
+
+"You understand, Boston tilicum, you understand. What I want my boy to
+become that I am for my boy. That you be."
+
+"Yes, Umatilla, I believe an Indian's word--you may trust mine. I will be
+to your boy what you may have him become. The Indian is true to his
+friends. I believe in _you_. I will be true."
+
+The old chief drew his blanket round him proudly.
+
+"Boston tilicum," said he, "if ever the day of trouble comes, I will
+protect you and the log school-house. You may trust my word. Indian speak
+true."
+
+The tall schoolmaster bowed.
+
+"Nika atte cepa" (I like you much), said the chief. "Potlatch shall no
+harm you. Klahyam klahhye--am!" (Good-by).
+
+Mrs. Woods hurried homeward and tried to calm her excited mind by singing
+a very heroic old hymn:
+
+    "Come on, my partners in distress,
+     My comrades in the wilderness,
+     Who still your bodies feel."
+
+The blue skies gleamed before her, and overhead wheeled a golden eagle. To
+her it was an emblem, a good omen, and her spirit became quiet and happy
+amid all the contradictions of her rough life. She sat down at last on the
+log before her door, with the somewhat strange remark:
+
+"I do hate Injuns; _nevertheless_--"
+
+Mrs. Woods was accustomed to correct the wrong tendencies of her heart and
+tongue by this word "nevertheless," which she used as an incomplete
+sentence. This "nevertheless" seemed to express her better self; to
+correct the rude tendencies of her nature. Had she been educated in her
+early days, this tendency to self-correction would have made her an ideal
+woman, but she owed nearly all her intellectual training to the sermons of
+the Rev. Jason Lee, which she had heard in some obscure corner of a room,
+or in Methodist chapel, or under the trees.
+
+Her early experience with the Indians had not made her a friend to the
+native races, notwithstanding the missionary labors of the Rev. Jason Lee.
+The first Indian that made her a visit on the donation claim did not leave
+a favorable impression on her mind.
+
+This Indian had come to her door while she was engaged in the very hard
+work of sawing wood. He had never seen a saw before, and, as it seemed to
+him to be a part of the woman herself, he approached her with awe and
+wonder. That the saw should eat through the wood appeared to him a
+veritable miracle.
+
+Mrs. Woods, unaware of her visitor, paused to take breath, looked up,
+beheld the tall form with staring eyes, and started back.
+
+"Medicine-woman--conjure!" said the Indian, in Chinook.
+
+Mrs. Woods was filled with terror, but a moment's thought recalled her
+resolution. She lifted her hand, and, pointing to the saw in the wood, she
+said, with a commanding tone:
+
+"Saw!"
+
+The Indian obeyed awkwardly, and wondering at the progress of the teeth of
+the saw through the wood. It was a hot day; the poor Indian soon became
+tired, and stopped work with a beating heart and bursting veins.
+
+"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods, with a sweep of her hands, as though some
+mysterious fate depended upon the order.
+
+The saw went very hard now, for he did not know how to use it, and the
+wood was hard, and the Indian's only thought seemed to be how to escape.
+Mrs. Woods held him in her power by a kind of mental magnetism, like that
+which Queen Margaret exercised over the robber.
+
+"Water!" at last gasped the Indian.
+
+"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods; then turned away to bring him water.
+
+When she looked around again, an unexpected sight met her eyes. The Indian
+was flying away, taking the saw with him. She never beheld either again,
+and it was a long time before any Indian appeared at the clearing after
+this odd event, though Mrs. Woods ultimately had many adventures among
+the wandering Siwashes.
+
+A saw was no common loss in these times of but few mechanical implements
+in Oregon, and Mrs. Woods did not soon forgive the Indian for taking away
+what he probably regarded as an instrument of torture.
+
+"I do hate Injuns!" she would often say; but quite likely would soon after
+be heard singing one of the hymns of the missionaries at the Dalles:
+
+    "O'er Columbia's wide-spread forests
+      Haste, ye heralds of the Lamb;
+     Teach the red man, wildly roaming,
+      Faith in Immanuel's name,"
+
+which, if poor poetry, was very inspiring.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+BOSTON TILICUM.
+
+
+Marlowe Mann--"Boston tilicum," as the Siwashes called all the
+missionaries, teachers, and traders from the East--sat down upon a bench
+of split log and leaned upon his desk, which consisted of two split logs
+in a rough frame. A curious school confronted him. His pupils numbered
+fifteen, representing Germany, England, Sweden, New England, and the
+Indian race.
+
+"The world will some day come to the Yankee schoolmaster," he used to say
+to the bowery halls of old Cambridge; and this prophecy, which had come to
+him on the banks of the Charles, seemed indeed to be beginning to be
+fulfilled on the Columbia.
+
+He opened the school in the same serene and scholarly manner as he would
+have done in a school in Cambridge.
+
+"He is not a true gentleman who is not one under all conditions and
+circumstances," was one of his views of a well-clothed character; and this
+morning he addressed the school with the courtesy of an old college
+professor.
+
+"I have come here," he said, "with but one purpose, and that is to try to
+teach you things which will do you the most good in life. That is always
+the best which will do the most good; all else is inferior. I shall first
+teach you to obey your sense of right in all things. This is the first
+principle of a true education. You will always know the way of life if you
+have this principle for your guide.
+
+"Conscience is the first education. A man's spiritual nature is his
+highest nature, and his spiritual concerns transcend all others. If a man
+is spiritually right, he is the master of all things. I would impress
+these truths on your minds, and teach them at the beginning. I have become
+willing to be poor, and to walk life's ways alone. The pilot of the Argo
+never returned from Colchis, but the Argo itself returned with the Golden
+Fleece. It may be so with my work; if so, I will be content. I have
+selected for our Scripture lesson the 'incorruptible seed.'"
+
+He rose and spoke like one before an august assembly; and so it was to
+him, with his views of the future of the great empire of the Northwest. A
+part of the pupils could not comprehend all that he said any more than
+they had understood the allusion to the pilot of the Argo; but his manner
+was so gracious, so earnest, so inspired, that they all felt the spirit of
+it, and some had come to regard themselves as the students of some great
+destiny.
+
+"Older domes than the pyramids are looking down upon you," he said, "and
+you are born to a higher destiny than were ever the children of the
+Pharaohs."
+
+"With the exception of Gretchen, not one of the pupils fully understood
+the picturesque allusion. Like the reference to the pilot of the Argo, it
+was poetic mystery to them; and yet it filled them with a noble curiosity
+to know much and a desire to study hard, and to live hopefully and
+worthily. Like the outline of some unknown mountain range, it allured them
+to higher outlooks and wider distances.
+
+"He talked to us so grandly," said Gretchen to Mrs. Woods one evening,
+"that I did not know half that he was saying; but it made me feel that I
+might be somebody, and I do intend to be. It is a good thing to have a
+teacher with great expectations."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Woods, "when there is so little to expect. People don't
+take a lot of nothing and make a heap of something in this world. It is
+all like a lot of feathers thrown against the wind. _Nevertheless_ it
+makes one happier to have prospects, if they are far away. I used to; but
+they never came to nothing, unless it was to bring me way out here."
+
+The log school-house was a curious place. The children's benches consisted
+of split logs on pegs, without backs. The sides of the building were logs
+and sods, and the roof was constructed of logs and pine boughs. All of the
+children were barefooted, and several had but poor and scanty clothing.
+Yet the very simplicity of the place had a charm.
+
+Benjamin sat alone, apart from the rest. It was plain to be seen that he
+was brooding over the painful event of the morning. Gretchen had grown
+cheerful again, but the bitter expression on the young Indian's face
+seemed to deepen in intensity. Mr. Mann saw it. To quiet his agitation, he
+began his teaching by going to him and sitting down beside him on the rude
+bench and opening to him the primer.
+
+"You understand English?" said Mr. Mann.
+
+"A little. I can talk Chinook."
+
+In the Chinook vocabulary, which was originally the trade language of all
+the tribes employed by the Hudson Bay Company in collecting furs, most of
+the words resemble in sound the objects they represent. For example, a
+wagon in Chinook is chick-chick, a clock is ding-ding, a crow is kaw-kaw,
+a duck, quack-quack, a laugh, tee-hee; the heart is tum-tum, and a talk or
+speech or sermon, wah-wah. The language was of English invention; it took
+its name from the Chinook tribes, and became common in the Northwest.
+Nearly all of the old English and American traders in the Northwest
+learned to talk Chinook, and to teach Chinook was one of the purposes of
+the school.
+
+"Can you tell me what that is?" asked Mr. Mann, pointing to the letter A
+in the primer.
+
+"Fox-trap."
+
+"No; that is the letter A."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+Our digger of Greek roots from Cambridge was puzzled. He could not repeat
+the story of Cadmus to this druid of the forest or make a learned talk on
+arbitrary signs. He answered happily, however, "Wise men said so."
+
+"Me understand."
+
+"That is the letter B."
+
+"Yes, aha! Boston tilicum, you let her be. Old woman no good; me punish
+her. Knock-sheet--stick her" (club her).
+
+Mr. Mann saw at once the strange turn that the young Indian's mind had
+taken. He was puzzled again.
+
+"No, Benjamin; I will teach you what to do."
+
+"Teach me how to club her? You are good! Boston tilicum, we will be
+brothers--you and I. She wah-wah, but she is no good."
+
+"That is C."
+
+"Aha! _She_ heap wah-wah, but _she_ no good."
+
+"Now, that is A, B, and that is C. Try to remember them, and I will come
+soon and talk with you again."
+
+"You wah-wah?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Mann, doubtful of the Indian's thought.
+
+"She wah-wah?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You heap wah-wah. You good. She heap wah-wah. She no good. Potlatch come;
+dance. She wah-wah no more. I wah-wah."
+
+Mr. Mann was pained to see the revengeful trend of the Indian's thought.
+The hints of the evil intention of the Potlatch troubled him, but his
+faith in the old chief and the influence of his own integrity did not
+falter.
+
+Gretchen was the most advanced scholar in the school. Her real mother had
+been an accomplished woman, and had taken great pains with her education.
+She was well instructed in the English branches, and had read five books
+of Virgil in Latin. Her reading had not been extensive, but it had
+embraced some of the best books in the English language. Her musical
+education had been received from a German uncle, who had been instructed
+by Herr Wieck, the father of Clara Schumann. He had been a great lover of
+Schumann's dreamy and spiritual music, and had taught her the young
+composer's pieces for children, and among them Romance and the Traumerei.
+He had taught her to play the two tone poems together in changing keys,
+beginning with the Traumerei and returning again to its beautiful and
+haunting strains. Gretchen interpreted these poems with all the color of
+true feeling, and under her bow they became enchantment to a musical ear
+and a delight to even as unmusical a soul as Mrs. Woods.
+
+Gretchen's chief literary pleasure had been the study of the German
+poets. She had a poetic mind, and had learned to produce good rhymes. The
+songs of Uhland, Heine, and Schiller delighted her. She had loved to read
+the strange stories of Hoffman, and the imaginative works of Baron Fouqué.
+She used to aspire to be an author or poet, but these aspirations had
+received no countenance from Mrs. Woods, and yet the latter seemed rather
+proud to regard her ward as possessing a superior order of mind.
+
+"If there is anything that I do despise," Mrs. Woods used to say, "it is
+books spun out of the air, all about nothin'! Dreams were made for sleep,
+and the day was made for work. I haven't much to be proud of in this
+world. I've always been a terror to lazy people and to Injuns, and if any
+one were to write my life they'd have some pretty stirring stories to
+tell. I have no doubt that I was made for something."
+
+Although Mrs. Woods boasted that she was a terror to Indians, she had been
+very apprehensive of danger since the Whitman colony massacre. She talked
+bravely and acted bravely according to her view of moral courage, but with
+a fearful heart. She dreaded the approaching Potlatch, and the frenzy that
+calls for dark deeds if the dance of the evil spirits should conclude the
+approaching feast.
+
+There was a sullen look in Benjamin's face as he silently took his seat in
+the log school-house the next morning. Mr. Mann saw it, and instinctively
+felt the dark and mysterious atmosphere of it. He went to him immediately
+after the opening exercises, and said:
+
+"You haven't spoken to me this morning; what troubles you?"
+
+The boy's face met the sympathetic eye of the master, and he said:
+
+"I was happy on the morning when I came--sun; _she_ hate Indian, talk
+against him to you; make me unhappy--shade; think I will have my
+revenge--_pil-pil_; then music make me happy; you make me happy; night
+come, and I think of her--she hate Indian--shade. Me will have my
+revenge--_pil-pil_. She say I have no right here; she have no right here;
+the land all belong to Umatilla; then to me; I no have her here. Look out
+for the October moon--Potlatch--dance--_pil-pil_."
+
+"I will be a friend to you, Benjamin."
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum, we will be friends."
+
+"And I will teach you how to be noble--like a king. You felt good when I
+was kind to you?"
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum."
+
+"And when the music played?"
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum."
+
+"Then you must be good to her; that will make her feel good toward you. Do
+you see?"
+
+There came a painful look into the young Indian's face.
+
+"I good to her, make her good? She good to me make me good? She no good to
+me. She say I no right here. The land belong to Umatilla. She must go. You
+stay. Look out for the October moon. She wah-wah no more."
+
+"It is noble to be good; it makes others good."
+
+"Then why isn't _she_ good? She make me ugly; you make me good. I think I
+will punish her--_pil-pil_; then you speak kind, and the music play, then
+I think I will punish her not. Then dark thoughts come back again; clouds
+come again; hawks fly. What me do? Me am two selves; one self when I think
+of you, one when I think of her. She say I have no right. She have no
+right. All right after Potlatch. I wah-wah; she wah-wah no more."
+
+"Be good yourself, Benjamin. Be kind to her; make her kind. You do right."
+
+The young Indian hesitated, then answered:
+
+"I do as you say. You are friend. I'll do as I feel when the music play. I
+try. So you say."
+
+The cloud passed. The teacher paid the Indian boy special attention that
+morning. At noon Gretchen played Von Weber's Wild Hunt of Lutzow, which
+drove Napoleon over the Rhine. The rhythm of the music picturing the
+heroic cavalry enchanted Benjamin, and he said: "Play it over again."
+After the music came a foot-race among the boys, which Benjamin easily
+won. The afternoon passed quietly, until in the cool, lengthening shadows
+of the trail the resolute form of Mrs. Woods appeared.
+
+Benjamin saw her, and his calm mood fled. He looked up at the master.
+
+"I is come back again--my old self again. She say I no business here; she
+no business here. She wah-wah."
+
+The master laid his hand on the boy's shoulder kindly and bent his face on
+his.
+
+"I do as you say," the boy continued. "I will not speak till my good self
+come again. I be still. No wah-wah."
+
+He dropped his eyes upon a page in the book, and sat immovable. He was a
+noble picture of a struggle for self-control in a savage and untutored
+heart.
+
+Mrs. Woods asked for Gretchen at the door, and the master excused the
+girl, thanking her for the music that had delighted the school at the
+noon-hour. As she was turning to go, Mrs. Woods cast a glance toward
+Benjamin, and said to the master in an undertone: "He's tame now--quiet as
+a purring cat. The cat don't lick cream when the folks are around. But
+he'll make trouble yet. An Injun is a Injun. I hate Injuns, though Parson
+Lee says I am all wrong. When you have seen as many of 'em as I have,
+you'll know more than you do now."
+
+Benjamin did not comprehend the words, but he felt that the woman had said
+something injurious to him. The suspicion cut him to the quick. His black
+eye sparkled and his cheek burned. The scholars all seemed to be sorry at
+the impression that Mrs. Woods's muttered words had left in his mind. He
+had struggled for two days to do his best--to follow his best self.
+
+School closed. Benjamin rose like a statue. He stood silent for a time and
+looked at the slanting sun and the dreamy afternoon glories of the
+glaciers, then moved silently out of the door. The old chief met him in
+the opening, and saw the hurt and troubled look in his face.
+
+"What have you been doing to my boy?" he said to the master. "Has he not
+been good?"
+
+"Very good; I like him," said Mr. Mann. "He is trying to be good here,"
+pointing to his heart. "The good in him will grow. I will help him."
+
+The old chief and the boy walked away slowly out of the shadows of the
+great trees and up the cool trail. The tall master followed them with his
+eye. In the departing forms he saw a picture of the disappearing race. He
+knew history well, and how it would repeat itself on the great plateau and
+amid the giant forests of the Oregon. He felt that the old man was
+probably one of the last great chiefs of the Umatillas.
+
+On one of the peninsulas of the Oregon, the so-called Islands of the Dead,
+the old warriors of the tribes were being gathered by the plagues that had
+come to the territories and tribal regions ever since the Hudson Bay
+Company established its posts on the west of the mountains, and Astoria
+had been planted on the great river, and settlers had gathered in the
+mountain-domed valley of the Willamette. Wherever the white sail went in
+the glorious rivers, pestilence came to the native tribes. The Indian
+race was perceptibly vanishing. Only one son of seven was left to
+Umatilla. What would be the fate of this boy?
+
+The master went home troubled over the event of the afternoon. He was
+asking the Indian to be better than his opponent, and she was a
+well-meaning woman and nominally a Christian.
+
+His first thought was to go to Mrs. Woods and ask her to wholly change her
+spirit and manners, and, in fact, preach to her the same simple doctrine
+of following only one's better self that he had taught to the young
+prince. But he well knew that she had not a teachable mind. He resolved to
+try to reach the same result through Gretchen, whom she upbraided with her
+tongue but loved in her heart.
+
+Mrs. Woods had come to regard it as her appointed mission to abuse people
+for their good. She thought it tended toward their spiritual progress and
+development. She often said that she felt "called to set things right, and
+not let two or three people have their own way in everything"--a view of
+life not uncommon among people of larger opportunities and better
+education.
+
+Benjamin came to school the next morning silent and sullen, and the
+master went to him again in the same spirit as before.
+
+"She say I no right here," he said. "She suffer for it. She wah-wah. Look
+out for the October moon."
+
+"No, you are a better Indian now."
+
+"Yes; sometimes."
+
+"The better Indian harms no one--one's good self never does evil. You are
+to be your good self, and please me."
+
+The young Indian was silent for a time. He at last said, slowly:
+
+"But me know who will."
+
+"Do what, Benjamin?"
+
+"Make her suffer--punish."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"I know a bad Indian who will. He say so."
+
+"You must not let him. You are son of a chief."
+
+"I will try. I no wah-wah now."
+
+At noon Benjamin was light-hearted, and led the sports and games. He was
+very strong, and one of his lively feats was to let three or four children
+climb upon his back and run away with them until they tumbled off. He
+seemed perfectly happy when he was making the others happy, and nothing
+so delighted him as to be commended. He longed to be popular, not from
+any selfish reason, but because to be liked by others was his atmosphere
+of contentment. He was kindly above most Indians, a trait for which his
+father was famous. He was even kindly above many of the white people.
+
+The next morning he came to school in good humor, and a curious incident
+occurred soon after the school began. A little black bear ventured down
+the trail toward the open door, stopping at times and lifting up its head
+curiously and cautiously. It at last ventured up to the door, put its fore
+feet on the door-sill, and looked into the room.
+
+"Kill it!" cried one of the boys, a recent emigrant, in the alarm. "Kill
+it!"
+
+"What harm it do?" said the Indian boy. "Me drive it away."
+
+The young Indian started toward the door as at play, and shook his head at
+the young bear, which was of the harmless kind so well known in the
+Northwest, and the bear turned and ran, while the Indian followed it
+toward the wood. The odd event was quite excusable on any ground of rule
+and propriety in the primitive school.
+
+"It no harm; let it go," said the boy on his return; and the spirit of the
+incident was good and educational in the hearts of the school.
+
+The charm of his life was Gretchen's violin. It transfigured him; it
+changed the world to him. His father was a forest philosopher; the boy
+caught a like spirit, and often said things that were a revelation to Mr.
+Mann.
+
+"Why do you like the violin so much?" said the latter to him one day.
+
+"It brings to me the thing longed for--the thing I long to know."
+
+"Why, what is that?"
+
+"I can't tell it--I feel it here--I sense it--I shall know--something
+better--yonder--the thing we long for, but do not know. Don't you long for
+it? Don't you feel it?"
+
+The tall schoolmaster said "Yes," and was thoughtful. The poor Indian had
+tried to express that something beyond his self of which he could only now
+have a dim conception, and about which even science is dumb. Mr. Mann
+understood it, but he could hardly have expressed it better.
+
+The boy learned the alphabet quickly, and began to demand constant
+attention in his eagerness to learn. Mr. Mann found that he was giving
+more than the allotted time to him. To meet the case, he appointed from
+time to time members of the school "monitors," as he called them, to sit
+beside him and help him.
+
+One day he asked Gretchen to do this work. The boy was delighted to be
+instructed by the mistress of the violin, and she was as pleased with the
+honor of such monitorial duties to the son of a chief. But an unexpected
+episode grew out of all this mutual good-will and helpful kindness.
+
+Benjamin was so grateful to Gretchen for the pains that she took with his
+studies that he wished to repay her. He had a pretty little Cayuse pony
+which he used to ride; one day after school he caused it to be brought to
+the school-house, and, setting Gretchen upon it, he led it by the mane up
+the trail toward her home, a number of the pupils following them. On the
+way the merry-making party met Mrs. Woods. She was as astonished as though
+she had encountered an elephant, and there came into her face a look of
+displeasure and anger.
+
+"What kind of doings are these, I would like to know?" she exclaimed, in a
+sharp tone, standing in the middle of the way and scanning every face.
+"Riding out with an Injun, Gretchen, are you? That's what you are doing.
+Girl, get off that horse and come with me! That is the kind of propriety
+that they teach out in these parts, is it? and the master came from
+Harvard College, too! One would think that this world was just made to
+enjoy one's self in, just like a sheep pasture, where the lambs go hopping
+and skipping, not knowing that they were born to be fleeced."
+
+She hurried Gretchen away excitedly, and the school turned back. Benjamin
+was disappointed, and looked more hurt than ever before. On the way he met
+his old father, who had come out to look for him, and the rest of the
+scholars dispersed to their homes.
+
+That evening, after a long, vivid twilight, such as throws its splendor
+over the mountain ranges in these northern latitudes, Mrs. Woods and
+Gretchen were sitting in their log-house just within the open door. Mr.
+Woods was at the block-house at Walla Walla, and the cabin was
+unprotected. The light was fading in the tall pines of the valleys, and
+there was a deep silence everywhere, undisturbed by so much as a whisper
+of the Chinook winds. Mrs. Woods's thoughts seemed far away--doubtless
+among the old meadows, orchards, and farm-fields of New England. Gretchen
+was playing the musical glasses.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Woods's thoughts came back from their far-away journeys. She
+had seen something that disturbed her. She sat peering into a tract of
+trees which were some three hundred feet high--one of the great tree
+cathedrals of the Northwestern forests. Suddenly she said:
+
+"Gretchen, there are Injuns in the pines. Watch!"
+
+Gretchen looked out, but saw nothing.
+
+The shadows deepened.
+
+"I have twice seen Injuns passing from tree to tree and hiding. Why are
+they there? There--look!"
+
+A sinewy form in the shadows of the pines appeared and disappeared.
+Gretchen saw it.
+
+"They mean evil, or they would not hide. Gretchen, what shall we do?"
+
+Mrs. Woods closed the door and barred it, took down the rifle from the
+side of the room, and looked out through a crevice in the split shutter.
+
+There was a silence for a time; then Mrs. Woods moved and said: "They are
+coming toward the house, passing from one tree to another. They mean
+revenge--I feel it--revenge on me, and Benjamin--he is the leader of it."
+
+The flitting of shadowy forms among the pines grew alarming. Nearer and
+nearer they came, and more and more excited became Mrs. Woods's
+apprehensions. Gretchen began to cry, through nervous excitement, and with
+the first rush of tears came to her, as usual, the thought of her violin.
+
+She took up the instrument, tuned it with nervous fingers, and drew the
+bow across the strings, making them shriek as with pain, and then drifted
+into the air the music of the Traumerei.
+
+"Fiddling, Gretchen--fiddling in the shadow of death? I don't know but
+what you are right--that tune, too!"
+
+The music trembled; the haunting strain quivered, rose and descended, and
+was repeated over and over again.
+
+"There is no movement in the pines," said Mrs. Woods. "It is growing
+darker. Play on. It does seem as though that strain was stolen from heaven
+to overcome evil with."
+
+Gretchen played. An hour passed, and the moon rose. Then she laid down the
+violin and listened.
+
+"Oh, Gretchen, he is coming! I know that form. It is Benjamin. He is
+coming alone. What shall we do? He is--right before the door!"
+
+Gretchen's eye fell upon the musical glasses, which were among the few
+things that she had brought from the East and which had belonged to her
+old German home. She had tuned them early in the evening by pouring water
+into them, as she had been taught to do in her old German village, and she
+wet her fingers and touched them to the tender forest hymn:
+
+    "Now the woods are all sleeping."
+
+"He has stopped," said Mrs. Woods. "He is listening--play."
+
+The music filled the cabin. No tones can equal in sweetness the musical
+glasses, and the trembling nerves of Gretchen's fingers gave a spirit of
+pathetic pleading to the old German forest hymn. Over and over again she
+played the air, waiting for the word of Mrs. Woods to cease.
+
+"He is going," said Mrs. Woods, slowly. "He is moving back toward the
+pines. He has changed his mind, or has gone for his band. You may stop
+now."
+
+Mrs. Woods watched by the split shutter until past midnight. Then she
+laid down on the bed, and Gretchen watched, and one listened while the
+other slept, by turns, during the night. But no footstep was heard. The
+midsummer sun blazed over the pines in the early morning; birds sang gayly
+in the dewy air, and Gretchen prepared the morning meal as usual, then
+made her way to the log school-house.
+
+She found Benjamin there. He met her with a happy face.
+
+"Bad Indian come to your cabin last night," said he. "He mean evil; he
+hate old woman. She wah-wah too much, and he hate. Bad Indian hear
+music--violin; he be pleased--evil hawks fly out of him. Good Indian come
+back. One is tied to the other. One no let the other go. What was that low
+music I hear? Baby music! Chinook wind in the bushes! Quail--mother-bird
+singing to her nest! I love that music.
+
+"Say, you play at Potlatch, frighten away the hawks; mother-birds sing. No
+devil dance. Say, I have been good; no harm old wah-wah. Will you--will
+you play--play that tin-tin at Potlatch under the big moon?"
+
+A great thought had taken possession of the young Indian's mind, and a
+great plan--one worthy of a leader of a peace congress. Gretchen saw the
+plan in part, but did not fully comprehend it. She could only see that his
+life had become a struggle between good and evil, and that he was now
+following some good impulse of his better nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR.
+
+
+Mrs. Woods was much alone during this summer. Her husband was away from
+home during the working days of the week, at the saw and shingle mill on
+the Columbia, and during the same days Gretchen was much at school.
+
+The summer in the mountain valleys of Washington is a long serenity. The
+deep-blue sky is an ocean of intense light, and the sunbeams glint amid
+the cool forest shadows, and seem to sprinkle the plains with gold-dust
+like golden snow. Notwithstanding her hard practical speech, which was a
+habit, Mrs. Woods loved Nature, and, when her work was done, she often
+made little journeys alone into the mountain woods.
+
+In one of these solitary excursions she met with a little black cub and
+captured it, and, gathering it up in her apron like a kitten, she ran with
+it toward her cabin, after looking behind to see if the mother bear was
+following her. Had she seen the mother of the cunning little black
+creature in her apron pursuing her, she would have dropped the cub, which
+would have insured her escape from danger. But the mother bear did not
+make an early discovery of the loss in her family. She was probably out
+berrying, and such experiences of stolen children were wholly unknown to
+the bear family in Washington before this time. The Indians would not have
+troubled the little cub.
+
+The black bear of the Cascades is quite harmless, and its cubs, like
+kittens, seem to have a sense of humor unusual among animals. For a white
+child to see a cub is to desire it to tame for a pet, and Mrs. Woods felt
+the same childish instincts when she caught up the little creature, which
+seemed to have no fear of anything, and ran away with it toward her home.
+
+It was Saturday evening when she returned, and she found both Mr. Woods
+and Gretchen waiting to meet her at the door. They were surprised to see
+her haste and the pivotal turning of her head at times, as though she
+feared pursuit from some dangerous foe.
+
+Out of breath, she sank down on the log that served for a step, and,
+opening her apron cautiously, said:
+
+"See here."
+
+"Where did you get that?" said Mr. Woods.
+
+"I stole it."
+
+"What are you going to do with it?"
+
+"Raise it."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"For company. I haven't any neighbors."
+
+"But what do you want it for?"
+
+"It is so cunning. It just rolled over in the trail at my feet, and I
+grabbed it and ran."
+
+"But what if the mother-bear should come after it?" asked Gretchen.
+
+"I would shoot her."
+
+"That would be a strange way to treat your new neighbors," said Mr. Woods.
+
+Mr. Woods put a leather strap around the neck of the little bear, and tied
+the strap to a log in the yard. The little thing began to be alarmed at
+these strange proceedings, and to show a disposition to use its paws in
+resistance, but it soon learned not to fear its captors; its adoption into
+the shingle-maker's family was quite easily enforced, and the pet seemed
+to feel quite at home.
+
+There was some difficulty at first in teaching the cub to eat, but hunger
+made it a tractable pupil of the berry dish, and Mrs. "Woods was soon able
+to say:
+
+"There it is, just as good as a kitten, and I would rather have it than to
+have a kitten. It belongs to these parts."
+
+Poor Mrs. Woods! She soon found that her pet did "belong to these parts,"
+and that its native instincts were strong, despite her moral training. She
+lost her bear in a most disappointing way, and after she supposed that it
+had become wholly devoted to her.
+
+She had taught it to "roll over" for its dinner, and it had grown to think
+that all the good things of this world came to bears by their willingness
+to roll over. Whenever any member of the family appeared at the door, the
+cub would roll over like a ball, and expect to be fed, petted, and
+rewarded for the feat.
+
+"I taught it that," Mrs. Woods used to say. "I could teach it anything. It
+is just as knowing as it is cunning, and lots of company for me out here
+in the mountains. It thinks more of me than of its old mother. You can
+educate anything."
+
+As the cub grew, Mrs. Woods's attachment to it increased. She could not
+bear to see its freedom restrained by the strap and string, and so she
+untied the string from the log and let it drag it about during the day,
+only fastening it at night.
+
+"There is no danger of its running away," said she; "it thinks too much of
+me and the berry dish. I've tamed it completely; it's as faithful to its
+home as a house-cat, and a great deal more company than a cat or dog or
+any other dumb animal. The nicest bird to tame is a blue-jay, and the best
+animal for company is a cub. I do believe that I could tame the whole race
+of bears if I only had 'em."
+
+Mrs. Woods had a pet blue-jay that she had taken when young from its nest,
+and it would do many comical things. It seemed to have a sense of humor,
+like a magpie, and to enjoy a theft like that bird. She finally gave it
+the freedom of the air, but it would return at her call for food and eat
+from her hand. The blue-jay is naturally a very wild bird, but when it is
+tamed it becomes very inquisitive and social, and seems to have a brain
+full of invention and becomes a very comical pet. Mrs. Woods called her
+pet bear Little Roll Over.
+
+One day a visitor appeared at the emigrant's cabin. A black she-bear came
+out of the woods, and, seeing the cub, stood up on her haunches in
+surprise and seemed to say, "How came you here?" It was evidently the
+mother of the cub.
+
+The cub saw its mother and rolled over several times, and then stood up on
+its haunches and looked at her, as much as to say, "Where did you come
+from, and what brought you here?" In the midst of this interesting
+interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin.
+
+She saw the mother-bear. True to her New England instincts, she shook her
+homespun apron and said: "Shoo!"
+
+She also saw that the little bear was greatly excited, and under the
+stress of temptation.
+
+"Here," said she, "roll over."
+
+The cub did so, but in the direction of its mother.
+
+Mrs. Woods hurried out toward it to prevent this ungrateful gravitation.
+
+The mother-bear seemed much to wonder that the cub should be found in such
+forbidden associations, and began to make signs by dipping her fore paws.
+The cub evidently understood these signs, and desired to renew its
+old-time family relations.
+
+"Here," said Mrs. Woods, "you--you--you mind now; roll over--roll over."
+
+[Illustration: _In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared
+at the door of the cabin._]
+
+The cub did so, true to its education in one respect, but it did not roll
+in the direction of its foster-mother, but rolled toward its own mother.
+It turned over some five or more times, then bounded up and ran toward the
+she-bear. The latter dropped her fore feet on the earth again, and the two
+bears, evidently greatly delighted to find each other, quickly disappeared
+in the woods. As the cub was about to enter the bushes it turned and gave
+a final glance at Mrs. Woods and rolled over.
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Woods's heart. She said:
+
+"After all I have done for ye, too! Oh, Little Roll Over, Little Roll
+Over, I wouldn't have thought it of you!"
+
+She surveyed the empty yard, threw her apron over her head, as stricken
+people used to do in Lynn in the hour of misfortune, and sat down on the
+log at the door and cried.
+
+"I never have had any confidence in Injuns," she said, "since my saw
+walked off. But I did have some respect for bears. I wonder if I shall
+ever meet that little cre'tur' again, and, if I do, if it will roll over.
+This world is all full of disappointments, and I have had my share. Maybe
+I'll get it back to me yet. Nevertheless--"
+
+Mrs. Woods often talked of Little Roll Over and its cunning ways; she
+hoped she would some time meet it again, and wondered how it would act if
+she should find it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE.
+
+
+Benjamin continued to attend the school, but it was evident that he did so
+with an injured heart, and chiefly out of love for the old chief, his
+father. He had a high regard for his teacher, whose kindness was
+unfailing, and he showed a certain partiality for Gretchen; but he was as
+a rule silent, and there were dark lines on his forehead that showed that
+he was unhappy. He would not be treated as an inferior, and he seemed to
+feel that he was so regarded by the scholars.
+
+He began to show a peculiar kind of contempt for all of the pupils except
+Gretchen. He pretended not to see them, hear them, or to be aware of their
+presence or existence. He would pass through a group of boys as though the
+place was vacant, not so much as moving his eye from the direct path. He
+came and went, solitary and self-contained, proud, cold, and revengeful.
+
+But this indifference was caused by sensitiveness and the feeling that he
+had been slighted. The dark lines relaxed, and his face wore a kindly glow
+whenever his teacher went to his desk--if the split-log bench for a
+book-rest might be so called. "I would give my life for Gretchen and you,"
+he said one day to Mr. Mann; and added: "I would save them all for you."
+
+There was a cluster of gigantic trees close by the school-house, nearly
+two hundred feet high. The trees, which were fir, had only dry stumps of
+limbs for a distance of nearly one hundred feet from the ground. At the
+top, or near the top, the green leaves or needles and dead boughs had
+matted together and formed a kind of shelf or eyrie, and on this a pair of
+fishing eagles had made their nest.
+
+The nest had been there many years, and the eagles had come back to it
+during the breeding season and reared their young.
+
+For a time after the opening of the school none of the pupils seemed to
+give any special attention to this high nest. It was a cheerful sight at
+noon to see the eagles wheel in the air, or the male eagle come from the
+glimmering hills and alight beside his mate.
+
+One afternoon a sudden shadow like a falling cloud passed by the half-open
+shutter of the log school-house and caused the pupils to start. There was
+a sharp cry of distress in the air, and the master looked out and said:
+
+"Attend to your books, children; it is only the eagle."
+
+But again and again the same swift shadow, like the fragment of a
+storm-cloud, passed across the light, and the wild scream of the bird
+caused the scholars to watch and to listen. The cry was that of agony and
+affright, and it was so recognized by Benjamin, whose ear and eye were
+open to Nature, and who understood the voices and cries of the wild and
+winged inhabitants of the trees and air.
+
+He raised his hand.
+
+"May I go see?"
+
+The master bowed silently. The boy glided out of the door, and was heard
+to exclaim:
+
+"Look! look! the nest--the nest!"
+
+The master granted the school a recess, and all in a few moments were
+standing without the door peering into the tall trees.
+
+The long dry weather and withering sun had caused the dead boughs to
+shrink and to break beneath the great weight of the nest that rested upon
+them. The eagle's nest was in ruins. It had fallen upon the lower boughs,
+and two young half-fledged eaglets were to be seen hanging helplessly on a
+few sticks in mid-air and in danger of falling to the ground.
+
+It was a bright afternoon. The distress of the two birds was pathetic, and
+their cries called about them other birds, as if in sympathy.
+
+The eagles seldom descended to any point near the plain in their flight,
+but mounted, as it were, to the sun, or floated high in the air; but in
+their distress this afternoon they darted downward almost to the ground,
+as though appealing for help for their young.
+
+While the school was watching this curious scene the old chief of the
+Umatillas came up the cool highway or trail, to go home with Benjamin
+after school.
+
+The eagles seemed to know him. As he joined the pitying group, the female
+eagle descended as in a spasm of grief, and her wing swept his plume. She
+uttered a long, tremulous cry as she passed and ascended to her young.
+
+"She call," said the old chief. "She call me."
+
+"I go," said Benjamin, with a look at his father.
+
+"Yes, go--she call. She call--the God overhead he call. Go!"
+
+A slender young pine ran up beside one of the giant trees, tall and green.
+In a moment Benjamin was seen ascending this pine to a point where he
+could throw himself upon the smallest of the great trees and grasp the
+ladder of the lower dead branches. Up and up he went in the view of all,
+until he had reached a height of some hundred and fifty feet.
+
+The eagles wheeled around him, describing higher circles as he ascended.
+He reached the young eagles at last, but passed by them. What was he going
+to do?
+
+There was a shelf of green boughs above him, which would bear the weight
+of a nest. He went up to them at a distance of nearly two hundred feet. He
+then began to gather up the fallen sticks of the old nest, and to break
+off new sticks and to construct a new nest. The old chief watched him with
+pride, and, turning to the master, said:
+
+"Ah-a--that is my boy. He be me. I was he once--it is gone now--what I
+was."
+
+When Benjamin had made a nest he descended, and at the peril of his own
+life, on the decayed limbs, he rescued the two young eagles that were
+hanging with heads downward and open beaks. He carried them up to the new
+nest and placed them in it, and began to descend.
+
+But a withered bough that he grasped was too slender for his weight, and
+broke. He grasped another, but that too gave way. He tried to drop into
+the top of the tall young pine below him, but, in his effort to get into
+position to do so, limb after limb of dead wood broke, and he came falling
+to the earth, amid the startled looks of the chief and the cries of the
+children.
+
+The ground was soft, and his body lay for a time half imbedded in it.
+
+He was senseless, and blood streamed from his nose and reddened his eyes.
+The old chief seized his arm and tried to raise him, but the effort
+brought no sign of life, and his body was lowered slowly back again by the
+agonized father, who sat down and dropped his head on his son's breast.
+
+Mr. Mann brought water and wet the boy's lips and bathed his brow. He then
+placed his hand over the boy's heart and held it there. There was a long
+silence. The old chief watched the teacher's hand. He seemed waiting for a
+word of hope; but Mr. Mann did not speak.
+
+The old chief lifted his head at last, and said; appealingly:
+
+"Boston tilicum, you do not know how I feel! You do not know--the birds
+know--_you_ do not know!"
+
+The teacher rubbed the boy's breast and arms, and said:
+
+"He will revive."
+
+"What, Boston tilicum?"
+
+"He will _live_."
+
+"My boy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The dark face brightened. The old man clasped the boy's hand and drew it
+to his breast. The children attempted to brush the earth out of the young
+hero's dark, matted hair, but the old chief said, mysteriously:
+
+"No touch him! he is mine."
+
+At last a convulsive movement passed over the boy's body. The teacher
+again pressed his hand on the heart of his pupil, and he quickly
+exclaimed: "It beats."
+
+The fiery sun gleamed from the snowy mountains. There were cool murmurs of
+winds in the trees, and they sent forth a resinous odor into the air. The
+balm dropped down like a messenger of healing.
+
+Presently the boy's eyes opened and gazed steadily into the blue air.
+
+The eagles were wheeling about the trees. The boy watched them, as though
+nothing had passed. They were making narrowing circles, and at last each
+alighted on the new nest beside their young.
+
+He turned his face slowly toward his father.
+
+"Saved!" he said. "They are happy. I fell. Let's go."
+
+He rose up. As he did so the male eagle rose from his nest and, uttering a
+glad scream, wheeled in the sky and made his way through the crimson haze
+toward the fishing grounds of the lower Columbia.
+
+The chief's eye followed him for a time; then the old man turned a happy
+face on the schoolmaster and children and said:
+
+"I know how he feels--the Manitou overhead--he made the hearts of all;
+yours--the birds--mine. He is glad!"
+
+There was something beautiful and pathetic in the old chief's sense of the
+common heart and feeling of all conscious beings. The very eagles seemed
+to understand it; and Master Mann, as he turned away from the school-house
+that day, said to Gretchen:
+
+"I myself am being taught. I am glad to learn all this large life. I hope
+that you will one day become a teacher."
+
+Gretchen went home that afternoon with a glad heart. Benjamin did not
+return to the school again for several days, and when he came back it
+seemed to be with a sense of humiliation. He seemed to feel somehow that
+he ought not to have fallen from the tree.
+
+The fourth of July came, and Master Mann had invited the school to come
+together on the holiday for patriotic exercises. He had one of the pupils
+read the Declaration of Independence on the occasion, and Gretchen played
+the President's March on the violin. He himself made an historical
+address, and then joined in some games out of doors under the trees.
+
+He brought to the school-house that day an American flag, which he hung
+over the desk during the exercises. When the school went out to play he
+said:
+
+"I wish I could hang the flag from a pole, or from the top of one of the
+trees."
+
+Benjamin's face brightened.
+
+"I will go," he said; "I will go _up_."
+
+"Hang it on the eagle's nest," said one of the pupils. "The eagle is the
+national bird."
+
+Mr. Mann saw that to suspend the national emblem from the eagle's nest
+would be a patriotic episode of the day, and he gave the flag to Benjamin,
+saying:
+
+"Beware of the rotten limbs."
+
+"I no woman," said Benjamin; and, waving the flag, he moved like a
+squirrel up the trees. He placed the flag on the nest, while the eagles
+wheeled around him, screaming wildly. He descended safely, and made the
+incident an object lesson, as Mr. Mann repeated the ode to the American
+eagle, found at that time in many reading-books.
+
+While Mr. Mann was doing so, and had reached the line--
+
+    "Bird of Columbia, well art thou," etc.,
+
+one of the eagles swept down to the nest and seized the banner in his
+talons. He rose again into the air and circled high, then with a swift,
+strong curve of the wings, came down to the nest again, and, seizing the
+flag, tore it from the nest and bore it aloft to the sky.
+
+[Illustration: _The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag
+streamed after him in his talons._]
+
+It was a beautiful sight. The air was clear, the far peaks were serene,
+and the glaciers of Mount Hood gleamed like a glory of crystallized light.
+The children cheered. The bird soared away in the blue heavens, and the
+flag streamed after him in his talons. He dropped the flag at last over
+a dark, green forest. The children cheered again.
+
+It was miles away.
+
+"I go find it," said Benjamin; and he darted away from the place and was
+not seen until the next day, when he returned, bringing the flag with him.
+
+Marlowe Mann never forgot that fourth of July on the Columbia.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE MOUNTAIN LION.
+
+
+One morning, as Mrs. Woods sat in her door picking over some red
+whortleberries which she had gathered in the timber the day before, a
+young cow came running into the yard, as if for protection. Mrs. Woods
+started up, and looked in the direction from which the animal had come
+running, but saw nothing to cause the alarm.
+
+The cow looked backward, and lowed. Mrs. Woods set down her dish of red
+berries, took her gun, and went out toward the timber where the cow had
+been alarmed.
+
+There was on the edge of the timber a large fir that the shingle-maker had
+felled when he first built his house or shack, but had not used, owing to
+the hardness of the grain. It lay on the earth, but still connected with
+its high stump, forming a kind of natural fence. Around it were beds of
+red phlox, red whortleberry bushes, and wild sunflowers.
+
+The horny stump and fallen tree had been made very interesting to Mrs.
+Woods in her uneventful life by a white squirrel that often had appeared
+upon it, and made a pretty picture as it sat eating in the sun, its head
+half covered with its bushy tail. White squirrels were not common in the
+timber, and this was the only one that Mrs. Woods had ever seen.
+
+"I wish that I could contrive to catch that there white squirrel," she
+said to Gretchen one day; "it would be a sight of company for me when you
+are gone. The bear used me mean, but I kind o' like all these little
+children of Natur'. But I don't want no Injuns, and no more bears unless
+_he_ comes back again. The schoolmaster may like Injuns, and you may, but
+I don't. Think how I lost my saw; Injun and all went off together. I can
+seem to see him now, goin'."
+
+As Mrs. Woods drew near the fallen tree she looked for the white squirrel,
+which was not to be seen. Suddenly the bushes near the stump moved, and
+she saw the most evil-looking animal that she had ever met drawing back
+slowly toward the fallen tree. It was long, and seemed to move more like
+an immense serpent than an animal. It had a catlike face, with small ears
+and spiteful eyes, and a half-open mouth displaying a red tongue and
+sharp teeth. Its face was sly, malicious, cruel, and cowardly. It seemed
+to be such an animal as would attack one in the dark. It was much larger
+than a dog or common black bear.
+
+Mrs. Woods raised her gun, but she thought that she was too far from the
+house to risk an encounter with so powerful an animal. So she drew back
+slowly, and the animal did the same defiantly. She at last turned and ran
+to the house.
+
+"Gretchen," she said, "what do you think I have seen?"
+
+"The white squirrel."
+
+"No; a tiger!"
+
+"But there are no tigers here; so the chief said."
+
+"But I have just seen one, and it had the meanest-looking face that I ever
+saw on any living creature. It was all snarls. That animal is dangerous. I
+shall be almost afraid to be alone now."
+
+"I shall be afraid to go to school."
+
+"No, Gretchen, you needn't be afraid. I'll go with you mornin's and carry
+the gun. I like to walk mornin's under the trees, the air does smell so
+sweet."
+
+That night, just as the last low tints of the long twilight had
+disappeared and the cool, dewy airs began to move among the pines, a long,
+deep, fearful cry was heard issuing from the timber. Mrs. Woods started up
+from her bed and called, "Gretchen!"
+
+The girl had been awakened by the cry, which might have been that of a
+child of a giant in pain.
+
+"Did you hear that?" asked Mrs. Woods.
+
+"Let's get up and go out," said Gretchen.
+
+Presently the same long, clear, pitiable cry, as if some giant distress,
+was repeated.
+
+"It seems human," said Mrs. Woods. "It makes me want to know what it is.
+Yes, let us get up and go out."
+
+The cry was indeed pleading and magnetic. It excited pity and curiosity.
+There was a strange, mysterious quality about it that drew one toward it.
+It was repeated a third time and then ceased.
+
+There was a family by the name of Bonney who had taken a donated claim
+some miles from the Woodses on the Columbia. They had two boys who
+attended the school.
+
+Early the next morning one of these boys, named Arthur, came over to the
+Woodses in great distress, with a fearful story.
+
+"Something," he said, "has killed all of our cattle. They all lie dead
+near the clearing, just as though they were asleep. They are not injured,
+as we can see; they are not shot or bruised, nor do they seem to be
+poisoned--they are not swelled--they look as though they were alive--but
+they are cold--they are just dead. Did you hear anything in the timber
+last night?"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Woods. "Wasn't it mysterious? Lost your cattle, boy? I am
+sorry for your folks. Mabbie (may be) 'tis Injuns."
+
+"No; father says that he can find no injury on them."
+
+"'Tis awful mysterious like," said Mrs. Woods, "cattle dyin' without
+anything ailin' 'em! I've always thought this was a good country, but I
+don't know. Tell your folks I'm sorry for 'em. Can I do anything for you?
+I'll come over and see ye in the course of the day."
+
+That night the same strange, wild, pleading cry was repeated in the
+timber.
+
+"There's something very strange about that sound," said Mrs. Woods. "It
+makes me feel as though I must run toward it. It draws me. It makes me
+feel curi's. It has haunted me all day, and now it comes again."
+
+"Do you suppose that the cry has had anything to do with the death of Mr.
+Bonney's cattle?" asked Gretchen.
+
+"I don't know--we don't understand this country fully yet. There's
+something very mysterious about the death of those cattle. You ought to
+have seen 'em. They all lie there dead, as though they had just lost their
+breath, and that was all."
+
+The next night was silent. But, on the following morning, a boy came to
+the school with a strange story. He had been driving home his father's
+cows on the evening before, when an animal had dropped from a great tree
+on the neck of one of the cows, which struggled and lowed for a few
+minutes, then fell, and was found dead. The boy and the other cattle had
+run away on the sudden appearance of the animal. The dead cow presented
+the same appearance as the cows of Mr. Bonney had done.
+
+When the old chief appeared at the school-house with Benjamin that
+morning, the school gathered around him and asked him what these things
+could mean. He replied, in broken Chinook, that there was a puma among
+them, and that this animal sucked the blood of its victims.
+
+The puma or cougar or panther, sometimes spelled _painter_, is the
+American lion. It is commonly called the mountain lion in the Northwest.
+It belongs to the cat family, and received the name of lion from its tawny
+color. When its appetite for blood has been satisfied, and its face is in
+repose, it is a very beautiful animal; but when seeking its prey it
+presents a mean, cowardly, stealthy appearance, and its face is a picture
+of cruelty and evil. It will destroy as many as fifty sheep in a night,
+sucking their blood and leaving them as though they had died without any
+external injury. This terrible animal is easily tamed if captured young,
+and, strange to say, becomes one of the most affectionate and devoted of
+pets. It will purr about the feet and lick the hands of its master, and
+develop all the attractive characteristics of the domestic cat.
+
+"We must have a puma-hunt," said the chief, "now--right away."
+
+"Not to-day?" said the teacher.
+
+"Yes," said the chief, "now--he eat your children. Find boy dead some day,
+just like cow. He drop down from a tree on a papoose. Benjamin and I will
+go hunt."
+
+[Illustration: _The mountain lion._]
+
+The two disappeared. For several days they did not return. But, one
+morning, a party of Indians in hunting-gear came riding up to the
+school-house, full of gay spirits and heroic pride. Behind them came
+the old chief on foot, moving slowly, as though tired, and with him was
+Benjamin.
+
+The Indian boy had a brown skin of an animal on his shoulder--a raw hide
+with very beautiful fur.
+
+The old chief came into the school-room with an air of pride, and stood
+for a few minutes silent before the master. His face, though wrinkled, was
+really beautiful and noble, in the light of the happy intelligence that
+awaited communication. He at last looked each pupil in the face and then
+said:
+
+"We have killed the puma. School no fear now."
+
+He took the skin of the animal from Benjamin's shoulder, and held it up
+before the eyes of all.
+
+"Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?" he said.
+
+"It was you?" asked the teacher.
+
+"No--not me, not me, no!"
+
+"The braves?"
+
+"No--not the braves. No." The old chief paused, and then said:
+
+"Boston tilicum, it was Benjamin. Treat him well. He is good to me--he
+mean well. He likes you--he die for you. Tell the boys it was Benjamin."
+
+He turned away slowly, with a bearing of pride. The Indian boy gave the
+puma's skin to the master, and took his seat in silence. There was a
+spirit in the strange scene that was touching, and the master's lip
+quivered as he took the old chief's hand that bright morning, as a parting
+sign of gratitude and good-will. He felt the innate brotherhood of all
+human hearts, and returned to his desk happy in his calling and work; and
+seeing that the natural rights of all men were secured; and that the human
+heart has the same impulses everywhere, as he had never seen these truths
+before.
+
+That night Gretchen told the story of the puma to Mrs. Woods, who had
+learned the leading incidents of it in the afternoon as she came to meet
+the girl in the trail, on the way from school.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE SMOKE-TALK.
+
+
+One day in September Mrs. Woods was at work in her cabin, and Gretchen was
+at school. Mrs. Woods was trying to sing. She had a hard, harsh voice
+always, and the tune was a battle-cry. The hymn on which she was
+exercising her limited gifts was not one of the happy tunes of Methodism,
+which early settlers on the Columbia loved to sing. It was a very
+censorious rhyme and took a very despondent view of the human heart:
+
+    "The pure testimony poured forth from the Spirit
+      Cuts like a two-edgèd sword;
+     And hypocrites now are most sorely tormented
+      Because they're condemnèd by the Word."
+
+She made the word "hypocrites" ring through the solitary log-cabin--she
+seemed to have the view that a large population of the world were of this
+class of people. She paused in her singing and looked out of the door.
+
+"There's one honest woman alive," she remarked to herself. "Thank Heaven,
+_I_ never yet feared the face of clay!"
+
+A tall, dark form met her eye--a great shadow in the scintillant sunlight.
+It was an aged Indian, walking with a staff. He was coming toward the
+cabin.
+
+"Umatilla!" she said. "What can he want of me?"
+
+The old chief approached, and bowed and sat down on a log that answered
+for a door-step.
+
+"I walk with a staff now," he said. "My bow has drifted away on the tide
+of years--it will never come back again. I am old."
+
+"You have been a good man," said Mrs. Woods, yielding to an impulse of her
+better nature. She presently added, as though she had been too generous,
+"And there aren't many good Injuns--nor white folks either for that
+matter."
+
+"I have come to have a smoke-talk with you," said the old chief, taking
+out his pipe and asking Mrs. Woods to light it. "Listen! I want to go
+home. When a child is weary, I take him by the hand and point him to the
+smoke of his wigwam. He goes home and sleeps. I am weary. The Great Spirit
+has taken me by the hand; he points to the smoke of the wigwam. There
+comes a time when all want to go home. I want to go home. Umatilla is
+going home. I have _not_ spoken."
+
+The smoke from his pipe curled over his white head in the pure, clear
+September air. He was eighty or more years of age. He had heard the
+traditions of Juan de Fuca, the Greek pilot, who left his name on the
+straits of the Puget Sea. He had heard of the coming of Vancouver in his
+boyhood, the English explorer who named the seas and mountains for his
+lieutenants and friends, Puget, Baker, Ranier, and Townsend. He had known
+the forest lords of the Hudson Bay Company, and of Astoria; had seen the
+sail of Gray as it entered the Columbia, and had heard the preaching of
+Jason Lee. The murder of Whitman had caused him real sorrow. Umatilla was
+a man of peace. He had loved to travel up and down the Columbia, and visit
+the great bluffs of the Puget Sea. He lived for a generation at peace with
+all the tribes, and now that he was old he was venerated by them all.
+
+"You are a good old Injun," said Mrs. Woods, yielding to her better self
+again. "I don't say it about many people. I do think you have done your
+best--considering."
+
+"I am not what I want to be," said Umatilla. "It is what we want to be
+that we shall be one day; don't you think so? The Great Spirit is going to
+make me what I want to be--he will make us all what we want to be. My
+desires are better than I--I will be my desires by and by. My staff is in
+my hand, and I am going home. The old warriors have gone home. They were
+thick as the flowers of the field, thick as the stars of the night. My
+boys are gone home--they were swift as the hawks in the air. Benjamin is
+left to the Umatillas. He is no butcher-bird; no forked tongue--he will
+remember the shade of his father. My heart is in his heart. I am going
+home. I have _not_ spoken."
+
+He puffed his pipe again, and watched an eagle skimming along on the great
+over-sea of September gold. The Indian language is always picturesque, and
+deals in symbols and figures of speech. It is picture-speaking. The
+Indians are all poets in their imaginations, like children. This habit of
+personification grows in the Indian mind with advancing years. Every old
+Indian speaks in poetic figures. Umatilla had not yet "spoken," as he
+said; he had been talking in figures, and merely approaching his subject.
+
+There was a long pause. He then laid down his pipe. He was about to speak:
+
+"Woman, open your ears. The Great Spirit lives in women, and old people,
+and little children. He loves the smoke of the wigwam, and the green
+fields of the flowers, and the blue gardens of stars. And he loves
+music--it is his voice, the whisper of the soul.
+
+"He spoke in the pine-tops, on the lips of the seas, in the shell, in the
+reed and the war-drum. Then _she_ came. He speaks through _her_. I want
+_her_ to speak for me. My people are angry. There are butcher-birds among
+them. They hate you--they hate the cabin of the white man. The white men
+take away their room, overthrow their forests, kill their deer. There is
+danger in the air.
+
+"The October moon will come. It will grow. It will turn into a sun on the
+border of the night. Then come Potlatch. My people ask for the Dance of
+the Evil One. I no consent--it means graves.
+
+"Let me have _her_ a moon--she play on the air. She play at the Potlatch
+for me. She stand by my side. The Great Spirit speak through her. Indians
+listen. They will think of little ones, they will think of departed ones,
+they will think of the hunt--they will see graves. Then the night will
+pass. Then the smoke will rise again from white man's cabin. Then I die
+in peace, and go home to the Great Spirit and rest. Will you let me have
+her? I _have_ spoken."
+
+Mrs. Woods comprehended the figurative speech. The old chief wished to
+take Gretchen to his wigwam for a month, and have her play the violin on
+the great night of the Potlatch. He hoped that the influence of the music
+would aid him in preventing the Dance of the Evil Spirits, and a massacre
+of the white settlers. What should she say?
+
+"I will talk with Gretchen," she said. "You mean well. I can trust you. We
+will see."
+
+He rose slowly, leaning on his staff, and emptied his pipe. It required a
+resolute will now to cause his withered limbs to move. But his steps
+became free after a little walking, and he moved slowly away. Poor old
+chief of the Cascades! It was something like another Sermon on the Mount
+that he had spoken, but he knew not how closely his heart had caught the
+spirit of the Divine Teacher.
+
+When Gretchen came home from school, Mrs. Woods told her what had
+happened, and what the old chief had asked.
+
+Mr. Woods had returned from the block-houses. He said: "Gretchen, go!
+Your _Traumerei_ will save the colony. Go!"
+
+Gretchen sat in silence for a moment. She then said: "I can trust
+Umatilla. I will go. I want to go. Something unseen is leading me--I feel
+it. I do not know the way, but I can trust my guide. I have only one
+desire, if I am young, and that is to do right. But is it right to leave
+you, mother?"
+
+"Mother!" how sweet that word sounded to poor Mrs. Woods! She had never
+been a mother. Tears filled her eyes--she forced them back.
+
+"Yes, Gretchen--go. I've always had to fight my way through the world, and
+I can continue to do so. I've had some things to harden my heart; but, no
+matter what you may do, Gretchen, I'll always be a mother to _you_. You'll
+always find the latch-string on the outside. You ain't the wust girl that
+ever was, if I did have a hand in bringing you up. Yes--go."
+
+"Your heart is right now," said Gretchen; "and I want to speak to you
+about Benjamin. He told me a few days ago that he hated you, but that no
+one should ever harm you, because he loved the Master."
+
+"He did, did he?" said Mrs. Woods, starting up. "Well, I hate him, and
+I'll never forgive him for tellin' you such a thing as that."
+
+"But, mother, don't you love _the_ Master, and won't you be friendly and
+forgiving to Benjamin, for _his_ sake? I wish you would. It would give you
+power; I want you to do so."
+
+"I'll think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these
+things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Father Lee. The boy has
+some good in him."
+
+"I wish you would tell him that."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Sympathy makes one grow so."
+
+"That's so, Gretchen. Only praise a dog for his one good quality, and it
+will make a good dog of him. I 'spect 'tis the same with folks. But my
+nature don't break up easy. I shall come out right some time. I tell you
+I'm goin' to have a talk with Father Lee. It is his preachin' that has
+made me what I am, and may be I'll be better by and by."
+
+Mrs. Woods, with all her affected courage, had good reason to fear an
+Indian outbreak, and to use every influence to prevent it. The very
+mention of the Potlatch filled her with recent terror. She well knew the
+story of the destruction of Whitman and a part of his missionary colony.
+
+_That_ was a terrible event, and it was a scene like that that the new
+settlers feared, at the approaching Potlatch; and the thought of that
+dreadful day almost weakened the faith of Mr. Mann in the Indians.
+
+We must tell you the old-time history of the tragedy which was now revived
+in the new settlement.
+
+
+_THE CONJURED MELONS._
+
+Most people who like history are familiar with the national story of
+Marcus Whitman's "Ride for Oregon"[A]--that daring horseback trip across
+the continent, from the Columbia to the Missouri, which enabled him to
+convince the United States Government not only that Oregon could be
+reached, but that it was worth possessing. Exact history has robbed this
+story of some of its romance, but it is still one of the noblest
+wonder-tales of our own or any nation. Monuments and poetry and art must
+forever perpetuate it, for it is full of spiritual meaning.
+
+Lovers of missionary lore have read with delight the ideal romance of the
+two brides who agreed to cross the Rocky Mountains with their husbands,
+Whitman and Spaulding; how one of them sang, in the little country church
+on departing, the whole of the hymn--
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+when the voices of others failed from emotion. They have read how the
+whole party knelt down on the Great Divide, beside the open Bible and
+under the American flag, and took possession of the great empire of the
+Northwest in faith and in imagination, and how history fulfilled the
+dream.
+
+At the time of the coming of the missionaries the Cayuse Indians and
+Nez-Percés occupied the elbow of the Columbia, and the region of the
+musical names of the Wallula, the Walla Walla, and Waülaptu. They were a
+superstitious, fierce, and revengful race. They fully believed in
+witchcraft or conjuring, and in the power to work evil through familiar
+spirits. Everything to them and the neighboring tribes had its good or
+evil spirit, or both--the mountains, the rivers, the forest, the sighing
+cedars, and the whispering firs.
+
+The great plague of the tribes on the middle Columbia was the measles. The
+disease was commonly fatal among them, owing largely to the manner of
+treatment. When an Indian began to show the fever which is characteristic
+of the disease, he was put into and inclosed in a hot clay oven. As soon
+as he was covered with a profuse perspiration he was let out, to leap into
+the cold waters of the Columbia. Usually the plunge was followed by death.
+
+There was a rule among these Indians, in early times, that if the
+"medicine-man" undertook a case and failed to cure, he forfeited his own
+life. The killing of the medicine-man was one of the dramatic and fearful
+episodes of the Columbia.
+
+Returning from the East after his famous ride, Whitman built up a noble
+mission station at Waülaptu. He was a man of strong character, and of fine
+tastes and ideals. The mission-house was an imposing structure for the
+place and time. It had beautiful trees and gardens, and inspiring
+surroundings.
+
+Mrs. Whitman was a remarkable woman, as intelligent and sympathetic as she
+was heroic. The colony became a prosperous one, and for a time occupied
+the happy valley of the West.
+
+One of the vices of the Cayuse Indians and their neighbors was stealing.
+The mission station may have overawed them for a time into seeming
+honesty, but they began to rob its gardens at last, and out of this
+circumstance comes a story, related to me by an old Territorial officer,
+which may be new to most readers. I do not vouch for it, but only say that
+the narrator of the principal incidents is an old Territorial judge who
+lives near the place of the Whitman tragedy, and who knew many of the
+survivors, and has a large knowledge of the Indian races of the Columbia.
+To his statements I add some incidents of another pioneer:
+
+"The thieving Cayuses have made 'way with our melons again," said a young
+farmer one morning, returning from the gardens of the station. "One theft
+will be followed by another. I know the Cayuses. Is there no way to stop
+them?"
+
+One of the missionary fraternity was sitting quietly among the trees. It
+was an August morning. The air was a living splendor, clear and warm, with
+now and then a breeze that rippled the leaves like the waves of the sea.
+
+He looked up from his book, and considered the question half-seriously,
+half-humorously.
+
+"I know how we used to prevent boys from stealing melons in the East,"
+said he.
+
+"How?"
+
+"Put some tartar emetic in the biggest one. In the morning it would be
+gone, but the boys would never come after any more melons."
+
+The young farmer understood the remedy, and laughed.
+
+"And," added he, "the boys didn't have much to say about melons after they
+had eaten _that_ one. The subject no longer interested them. I guess the
+Indians would not care for more than one melon of that kind."
+
+"I would like to see a wah-wah of Indian thieves over a melon like that!"
+said the gardener. "I declare, I and the boys will do it!"
+
+He went to his work, laughing. That day he obtained some of the emetic
+from the medical stores of the station, and plugged it into three or four
+of the finest melons. Next morning he found that these melons were gone.
+
+The following evening a tall Indian came slowly and solemnly to the
+station. His face had a troubled look, and there was an air of mystery
+about his gait and attitude. He stopped before one of the assistant
+missionaries, drew together his blanket, and said:
+
+"Some one here no goot. You keep a conjurer in the camp. Indian kill
+conjurer. Conjurer ought die; him danger, him no goot."
+
+The laborers gathered round the stately Indian. They all knew about the
+nauseating melons, and guessed why he had come. All laughed as they heard
+his solemn words. The ridicule incensed him.
+
+"You one conjurer," he said, "he conjure melons. One moon, two moons, he
+shall die."
+
+The laborers laughed again.
+
+"Half moon, more moons, he shall suffer--half moon, more moons," that is,
+sooner or later.
+
+The missionary's face grew serious. The tall Indian saw the change of
+expression.
+
+"Braves sick." He spread out his blanket and folded it again like wings.
+"Braves double up _so_"--he bent over, opening and folding his blanket.
+"Braves conjured; melon conjured--white man conjure. Indian kill him."
+
+There was a puzzled look on all faces.
+
+"Braves get well again," said the missionary, incautiously.
+
+"Then you _know_," said the Indian. "You know--you conjure. Make
+sick--make well!"
+
+He drew his blanket again around him and strode away with an injured look
+in his face, and vanished into the forests.
+
+"I am sorry for this joke," said the missionary; "it bodes no good."
+
+November came. The nights were long, and there was a perceptible coolness
+in the air, even in this climate of April days.
+
+Joe Stanfield, a half-breed Canadian and a member of Whitman's family, was
+observed to spend many of the lengthening evenings with the Cayuses in
+their lodges. He had been given a home by Whitman, to whom he had seemed
+for a time devoted.
+
+Joe Lewis, an Indian who had come to Whitman sick and half-clad, and had
+received shelter and work from him, seems to have been on intimate terms
+with Stanfield, and the two became bitter enemies to the mission and
+sought to turn the Cayuses against it, contrary to all the traditions of
+Indian gratitude.
+
+In these bright autumn days of 1847 a great calamity fell upon the Indians
+of the Columbia. It was the plague. This disease was the terror of the
+Northwestern tribes. The Cayuses caught the infection. Many sickened and
+died, and Whitman was appealed to by the leading Indians to stay the
+disease. He undertook the treatment of a number of cases, but his patients
+died.
+
+The hunter's moon was now burning low in the sky. The gathering of rich
+harvests of furs had begun, and British and American fur-traders were
+seeking these treasures on every hand. But at the beginning of these
+harvests the Cayuses were sickening and dying, and the mission was
+powerless to stay the pestilence.
+
+A secret council of Cayuses and half-breeds was held one night under the
+hunter's moon near Walla Walla, or else on the Umatilla. Five Crows, the
+warrior, was there with Joe Lewis, of Whitman's household, and Joe
+Stanfield, alike suspicious and treacherous, and old Mungo, the
+interpreter. Sitkas, a leading Indian, may have been present, as the story
+I am to give came in part from him.
+
+Joe Lewis was the principal speaker. Addressing the Cayuses, he said:
+
+"The moon brightens; your tents fill with furs. But Death, the robber, is
+among you. Who sends Death among you? The White Chief (Whitman). And why
+does the White Chief send among you Death, the robber, with his poison?
+That he may possess your furs."
+
+"Then why do the white people themselves have the disease?" asked a
+Cayuse.
+
+None could answer. The question had turned Joe Lewis's word against him,
+when a tall Indian arose and spread his blanket open like a wing. He stood
+for a time silent, statuesque, and thoughtful. The men waited seriously
+to hear what he would say.
+
+It was the same Indian who had appeared at the mission after the joke of
+the plugged melons.
+
+"Brothers, listen. The missionaries are conjurers. They conjured the
+melons at Waülaptu. They made the melons sick. I went to missionary chief.
+He say, 'I make the melons well.' I leave the braves sick, with their
+faces turned white, when I go to the chief. I return, and they are well
+again. The missionaries conjure the melons, to save their gardens. They
+conjure you now, to get your furs."
+
+The evidence was conclusive to the Cayuse mind. The missionaries were
+conjurers. The council resolved that all the medicine-men in the country
+should be put to death, and among the first to perish should be Whitman,
+the conjurer.
+
+Such in effect was the result of the secret council or councils held
+around Waülaptu.
+
+Whitman felt the change that had come over the disposition of the tribes,
+but he did not know what was hidden behind the dark curtain. His great
+soul was full of patriotic fire, of love to all men, and zeal for the
+gospel.
+
+He was nothing to himself--the cause was everything. He rode hither and
+thither on the autumn days and bright nights, engaged in his great work.
+
+He went to Oregon City for supplies.
+
+"Mr. McKinley," he said to a friend, "a Cayuse chief has told me that the
+Indians are about to kill all the medicine-men, and myself among them. I
+think he was jesting."
+
+"Dr. Whitman," said McKinley, "a Cayuse chief never jests."
+
+He was right. The fateful days wore on. The splendid nights glimmered over
+Mount Hood, and glistened on the serrated mountain tents of eternal snow.
+The Indians continued to sicken and die, and the universal suspicion of
+the tribes fell upon Whitman.
+
+Suddenly there was a war-cry! The mission ran with blood. Whitman and his
+wife were the first to fall. Then horror succeeded horror, and many of the
+heroic pioneers of the Columbia River perished.
+
+"The Jesuits have been accused of causing the murder of Whitman," said one
+historian of Washington to me. "They indignantly deny it. I have studied
+the whole subject for years with this opinion, that the Indian outbreak
+and its tragedies had its origin, and largely gathered its force, from
+the terrible joke of the conjured melons.
+
+"That was the evidence that must have served greatly to turn the Indian
+mind against one of the bravest men that America has produced, and whose
+name will stand immortal among the heroes of Washington and Oregon."
+
+I give this account as a local story, and not as exact history; but this
+tradition was believed by the old people in Washington.
+
+When any one in the new settlement spoke of the Potlatch, this scene came
+up like a shadow. Would it be repeated?
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote A: See Historical Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST.
+
+
+In the log school-house, Lewis and Clarke's Expedition was used as a
+reading-book. Master Mann had adopted it because it was easy to obtain,
+and served as a sort of local geography and history.
+
+In this book is an account of a great black eagle's nest, on the Falls of
+the Missouri; and the incident seemed intensely to interest the
+picturesque mind of Benjamin.
+
+"Let us go see," said Benjamin, one day after this poetic part of Lewis
+and Clarke's narrative had been read.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Mann.
+
+"I carry canoe, and we go and find him!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"The black eagle's nest."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I'll get a plume--wear it here. Please father. I love to please father."
+
+There was to be a few weeks' vacation in a part of September and October,
+and Benjamin's suggestion led Mr. Mann to plan an excursion to the Falls
+of the Missouri at that time. The old chief would be glad to have Benjamin
+go with him and help hunt, and carry the canoe. They would follow the
+Salmon River out of the Columbia, to a point near the then called
+Jefferson River, and so pass the mountains, and launch themselves on the
+Missouri, whence the way would be easy to the Falls.
+
+The dream of this expedition seemed to make Benjamin perfectly happy. He
+had already been over a part of this territory, with his father, on a
+visit to the friendly tribes.
+
+The mid-autumn in the valleys of the Columbia and Missouri Rivers is
+serene, and yet kindles, with a sort of fiery splendor. The perfect days
+of America are here.
+
+Master Mann and Benjamin started on their expedition with a few Indians,
+who were to see them to the Jefferson River and there leave them.
+
+The Yankee schoolmaster had a prophetic soul, and he felt that he was
+treading the territory of future empires.
+
+Launched on the Missouri, the thought of what the vast plains might become
+overwhelmed him at times, and he would lie silent in his boat, and pray
+and dream.
+
+The soul of the Indian boy seemed as bright as the golden air of the
+cloudless days, during most of the time on the Salmon River, and while
+passing through the mountains. But he would sometimes start up suddenly,
+and a shade would settle on his face.
+
+Master Mann noticed these sudden changes of mood, and he once said to him:
+
+"What makes you turn sad, Benjamin?"
+
+"Potlatch."
+
+"But that is a dance."
+
+"Hawks."
+
+"I think not, Benjamin!"
+
+"You do not know. They have a bitter heart. My father does not sleep. It
+is you that keeps him awake. He loves you; you love me and treat me well;
+he loves you, and want to treat you well--see. _She_ make trouble. Indians
+meet at night--talk bitter. They own the land. They have rights. They
+threaten. Father no sleep. Sorry."
+
+
+_THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI._
+
+The Falls of the Missouri are not only wonderful and beautiful, but they
+abound with grand traditions. Before we follow our young explorer to the
+place, let us give you, good reader, some views of this part of Montana as
+it was and as it now appears.
+
+We recently looked out on the island that once lifted the great black
+eagle's nest over the plunging torrent of water--the nest famous,
+doubtless, among the Indians, long before the days of Lewis and Clarke.
+
+We were shown, in the city of Great Falls, a mounted eagle, which, it was
+claimed, came from this nest amid the mists and rainbows. The fall near
+this island, in the surges, is now known as the Black Eagle's Fall.
+
+This waterfall has not the beauty or the grandeur of the other
+cataracts--the Rainbow Falls and the Great Falls--a few miles distant. But
+it gathers the spell of poetic tradition about it, and strongly appeals to
+the sense of the artist and the poet. The romancer would choose it for his
+work, as the black eagles chose it for their home.
+
+Near it is one of the most lovely fountains in the world, called the Giant
+Spring.
+
+    "Close beside the great Missouri,
+       Ere it takes its second leap,
+     Is a spring of sparkling water
+       Like a river broad and deep."
+
+The spring pours out of the earth near the fall in a great natural
+fountain, emerald-green, clear as crystal, bordered with water-cresses,
+and mingles its waters with the clouded surges of the Missouri. If a
+person looks down into this fountain from a point near enough for him to
+touch his nose to the water, all the fairy-like scenes of the Silver
+Springs and the Waukulla Spring in Florida appear. The royal halls and
+chambers of Undine meet the view, with gardens of emeralds and gem-bearing
+ferns. It kindles one's fancy to gaze long into these crystal caverns, and
+a practical mind could hardly resist here the poetic sense of Fouqué that
+created Undine.
+
+The Black Eagle Falls, with its great nest and marvelous fountains, was a
+favorite resort of the Blackfeet Indians and other Indian tribes. It is
+related in the old traditions that the Piegans, on one of their
+expeditions against the Crows, rested here, and became enchanted with the
+fountain:
+
+    "Hither came the warrior Piegans
+       On their way to fight the Crow;
+     Stood upon its verge, and wondered
+       What could mean the power below."
+
+The Piegans were filled with awe that the fountain rose and fell and
+gurgled, as if in spasms of pain. They sent for a native medicine-man.
+
+"Why is the fountain troubled?" they asked.
+
+"This," said the Indian prophet, "is the pure stream that flows through
+the earth to the sun. It asks for offerings. We cast the spoils of war
+into it, and it carries them away to the Sun's _tepee_, and the Sun is
+glad, and so shines for us all."
+
+The Blackfeet worshiped the Sun. The Sun River, a few miles above this
+cataract, was a medicine or sacred river in the tribal days, and it was in
+this region of gleaming streams and thundering waterfalls that the once
+famous Sun-dances were held.
+
+There was a barbarous splendor about these Sun-dances. The tribes gathered
+for the festival in the long, bright days of the year. They wore ornaments
+of crystal, quartz, and mica, such as would attract and reflect the rays
+of the sun. The dance was a glimmering maze of reflections. As it reached
+its height, gleaming arrows were shot into the air. Above them, in their
+poetic vision, sat the Sun in his _tepee_. They held that the thunder was
+caused by the wings of a great invisible bird. Often, at the close of the
+Sun-dance on the sultry days, the clouds would gather, and the
+thunder-bird would shake its wings above them and cool the air. Delightful
+times were these old festivals on the Missouri. At evening, in the long
+Northern twilights, they would recount the traditions of the past. Some of
+the old tales of the Blackfeet, Piegans, and Chippewas, are as charming as
+those of La Fontaine.
+
+The Rainbow Falls are far more beautiful than those of the Black Eagle.
+They are some six miles from the new city of Great Falls. A long stairway
+of two hundred or more steps conducts the tourist into their very
+mist-land of rocks and surges. Here one is almost deafened by the thunder.
+When the sun is shining, the air is glorious with rainbows, that haunt the
+mists like a poet's dream.
+
+The Great Fall, some twelve miles from the city, plunges nearly a hundred
+feet, and has a roar like that of Niagara. It is one of the greatest
+water-powers of the continent.
+
+The city of Great Falls is leaping into life in a legend-haunted region.
+Its horizon is a borderland of wonders. Afar off gleam the Highwood
+Mountains, with roofs of glistening snow. Buttes (hills with level tops)
+rise like giant pyramids here and there, and one may almost imagine that
+he is in the land of the Pharaohs. Bench lands diversify the wide plains.
+Ranches and great flocks are everywhere; armies of cattle; creeks shaded
+with cottonwood and box-elder; birds and flowers; and golden eagles
+gleaming in the air. The Rockies wall the northern plains.
+
+The Belt Mountain region near Great Falls is a wonder-land, like the
+Garden of the Gods in Colorado, or the Goblin Land near the Yellowstone.
+It would seem that it ought to be made a State park. Here one fancies
+one's self to be amid the ruins of castles, cathedrals, and fortresses, so
+fantastic are the shapes of the broken mountain-walls. It is a land of
+birds and flowers; of rock roses, wild sunflowers, golden-rods; of
+wax-wings, orioles, sparrows, and eagles. Here roams the stealthy mountain
+lion.
+
+This region, too, has its delightful legends.
+
+One of these legends will awaken great curiosity as the State of Montana
+grows, and she seems destined to become the monarch of States.
+
+In 1742 Sieur de la Verendrye, the French Governor of Quebec, sent out an
+expedition, under his sons and brother, that discovered the Rocky
+Mountains, which were named _La Montana Roches_. On the 12th of May, 1744,
+this expedition visited the upper Missouri, and planted on an eminence,
+probably in the near region of Great Falls, a leaden plate bearing the
+arms of France, and raised a monument above it, which the Verendryes named
+_Beauharnois_. It is stated that this monument was erected on a
+river-bluff, between bowlders, and that it was twenty feet in diameter.
+
+There are people who claim to have discovered this monument, but they fail
+to produce the leaden plate with the arms of France that the explorers
+buried. The search for this hidden plate will one day begin, and the
+subject is likely greatly to interest historical societies in Montana, and
+to become a very poetic mystery.
+
+Into this wonder-land of waterfalls, sun-dances, and legends, our young
+explorers came, now paddling in their airy canoe, now bearing the canoe on
+their backs around the falls.
+
+Mr. Mann's white face was a surprise to the native tribes that they met on
+the way, but Benjamin's brightness and friendly ways made the journey of
+both easy.
+
+They came to the Black Eagle Falls. The great nest still was there. It was
+as is described in the book of the early explorers.
+
+It hung over the mists of the rapids, and, strangely enough, there were
+revealed three black plumes in the nest.
+
+Benjamin beheld these plumes with a kind of religious awe. His eyes
+dilated as he pointed to them.
+
+"They are for me," he said. "One for me, one for father, and one for you.
+I'll get them all."
+
+He glided along a shelf of rocks toward the little island, and mounted the
+tree. The black eagles were yet there, though their nest was empty. He
+passed up the tree under the wings of the eagles, and came down with a
+handful of feathers.
+
+"The book was true," said he.
+
+They went to Medicine River, now called the Sun River, and there witnessed
+a Sun-dance.
+
+It was a scene to tempt a brilliant painter or poet. The chiefs and
+warriors were arrayed in crystals, quartz, and every bright product of the
+earth and river that would reflect the glory of the sun.
+
+They returned from where the city of Great Falls is now, back to the
+mountains and to the tributaries of the Columbia. Benjamin appeared
+before his father, on his return, with a crest of black eagle's plumes,
+and this crest the young Indian knight wore until the day of his death.
+
+"I shall wear mine always," he said to his father. "You wear yours."
+
+"Yes," said his father, with a face that showed a full heart.
+
+"Both together," said Benjamin.
+
+"Both together," replied Umatilla.
+
+"Always?" said Benjamin.
+
+"Always," answered the chief.
+
+The Indians remembered these words. Somehow there seemed to be something
+prophetic in them. Wherever, from that day, Umatilla or Young Eagle's
+Plume was seen, each wore the black feather from the great eagle's nest,
+amid the mists and rainbows or mist-bows of the Falls of the Missouri.
+
+It was a touch of poetic sentiment, but these Indian races of the Columbia
+lived in a region that was itself a school of poetry. The Potlatch was
+sentiment, and the Sun-dance was an actual poem. Many of the tents of skin
+abounded with picture-writing, and the stories told by the night fires
+were full of picturesque figures.
+
+Gretchen's poetic eye found subjects for verse in all these things, and
+she often wrote down her impressions, and read them to practical Mrs.
+Woods, who affected to ignore such things, but yet seemed secretly
+delighted with them.
+
+"You have _talons_" she used to say, "but they don't amount to anything,
+anyway. Nevertheless--"
+
+The expedition to the Falls of the Missouri, and the new and strange
+sights which Benjamin saw there, led him to desire to make other trips
+with the schoolmaster, to whom he became daily more and more attached. In
+fact, the Indian boy came to follow his teacher about with a kind of
+jealous watchfulness. He seemed to be perfectly happy when the latter was
+with him, and, when absent from him, he talked of him more than of any
+other person.
+
+In the middle of autumn the sky was often clouded with wild geese, which
+in V-shaped flocks passed in long processions overhead, _honking_ in a
+trumpet-like manner. Sometimes a flock of snowy geese would be seen, and
+the laughing goose would be heard.
+
+"Where do they go?" said Mr. Mann one day to Benjamin.
+
+The boy told him of a wonderful island, now known as Whidby, where there
+were great gatherings of flocks of geese in the fall.
+
+"Let's go see," said he. "The geese are thicker than the bushes there--the
+ponds are all alive with them there--honk--honk--honk! Let's go see."
+
+"When the school is over for the fall we will go," said Mr. Mann.
+
+The Indian boy's face beamed with delight. He dreamed of another
+expedition like that to the wonderful Falls. He would there show the
+master the great water cities of the wild geese, the emigrants of the air.
+The thought of it made him dance with delight.
+
+Often at nightfall great flocks of the Canada geese would follow the
+Columbia towards the sea. Benjamin would watch them with a heart full of
+anticipation. It made him supremely happy to show the master the wonderful
+things of the beautiful country, and the one ambition of his heart now was
+to go to the lakes of the _honks_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.
+
+
+"Go to the chief's lodge, Gretchen, and stay until the Potlatch, and I
+will come to visit you." Such were the words of Mrs. Woods, as her final
+decision, after long considering the chief's request.
+
+The forest lodge of the old chief of the Cascades was picturesque without
+and within. Outwardly, it was a mere tent of skins and curious
+pictography, under the shadows of gigantic trees, looking down on the
+glistening waters of the Columbia; inwardly, it was a museum of relics of
+the supposed era of the giant-killers, and of the deep regions of the
+tooth and claw; of Potlatches, masques and charms of _medas_ and
+_wabenoes_; of curious pipes; of odd, curious feathers, and beautiful
+shells and feather-work and pearls. But, though all things here were rude
+and primitive, the old chief had a strong poetic sense, and the place and
+the arrangement of everything in it were very picturesque in its effect,
+and would have delighted an artist. On a hill near were grave-posts, and a
+sacred grove, in which were bark coffins in trees. Near by was an open
+field where the Indian hunters were accustomed to gather their peltries,
+and where visiting bands of Indians came to be hospitably entertained, and
+feasts were given _à la mode de sauvage_. From the plateau of the royal
+lodge ran long forest trails and pathways of blazed trees; and near the
+opening to the tent rose two poles, to indicate the royal rank of the
+occupant. These were ornamented with ideographic devices of a historical
+and religious character.
+
+The family of Umatilla consisted of his squaw, an old woman partly
+demented, and Benjamin, who was now much of the time away with the
+schoolmaster.
+
+The old chief was very kind to his unfortunate wife, and treated her like
+a child or a doll. Benjamin was about to take as his bride an Indian girl
+whom the English called Fair Cloud, and she was a frequent visitor at the
+tent.
+
+To this patriarchal family Gretchen came one day, bringing her violin.
+Fair Cloud was there to receive her, and the crazy old squaw seemed to be
+made happy by the sight of her white face, and she did all that she could
+in her simple way to make her welcome. She gave her ornaments of shells,
+and pointed out to her a wabeno-tree, in whose tops spirits were supposed
+to whisper, and around which Indian visitors sometimes danced in the
+summer evenings.
+
+The Indian maid was eager to hear the violin, but the old chief said: "It
+is the voice of the Merciful; let it be still--the god should not speak
+much."
+
+He seemed to wish to reserve the influence of the instrument for the
+Potlatch, to make it an object of wonder and veneration for a time, that
+its voice might be more magical when it should be heard.
+
+There was a kind of tambourine, ornamented with fan-like feathers, in the
+lodge. Fair Cloud used to play upon it, or rather shake it in a rhythmic
+way. There was also a war-drum in the lodge, and an Indian called
+Blackhoof used to beat it, and say:
+
+    "I walk upon the sky,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear;
+    When the sun goes out at noon,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear!
+
+    "When forkèd lightnings flash,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear.
+     I walk upon the sky,
+     And call the clouds; be still,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear!"
+
+The tribes of the Oregon at this time were numerous but small. They
+consisted chiefly of the Chinooks, Vancouvers, the Walla Wallas, the
+Yacomars, the Spokans, the Cayuses, the Nez-Percés, the Skagits, the
+Cascades, and many tribes that were scarcely more than families. They were
+for the most part friendly with each other, and they found in the Oregon
+or Columbia a common fishing-ground, and a water-way to all their
+territories. They lived easily. The woods were full of game, and the river
+of salmon, and berries loaded the plateaus. Red whortleberries filled the
+woodland pastures and blackberries the margins of the woods.
+
+The climate was an almost continuous April; there was a cloudy season in
+winter with rainy nights, but the Japanese winds ate up the snows, and the
+ponies grazed out of doors in mid-winter, and spring came in February. It
+was almost an ideal existence that these old tribes or families of Indians
+lived.
+
+[Illustration: _An Indian village on the Columbia._]
+
+Among the early friends of these people was Dick Trevette, whose tomb
+startles the tourist on the Columbia as he passes Mamaloose, or the Island
+of the Dead. He died in California, and his last request was that he might
+be buried in the Indian graveyard on the Columbia River, among a race
+whose hearts had always been true to him.
+
+The old chief taught Gretchen to fish in the Columbia, and the withered
+crone cooked the fish that she caught.
+
+Strange visitors came to the lodge, among them an Indian girl who brought
+her old, withered father strapped upon her back. The aged Indian wished to
+pay his last respects to Umatilla.
+
+Indians of other tribes came, and they were usually entertained at a
+feast, and in the evening were invited to dance about the whispering tree.
+
+The song for the reception of strangers, which was sung at the dance, was
+curious, and it was accompanied by striking the hand upon the breast over
+the heart at the words "Here, here, here":
+
+    "You resemble a friend of mine,
+     A friend I would have in my heart--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "My heart is linked to thine;
+     You are like a friend of mine--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "Are we not brothers, then;
+     Shall we not meet again--
+          Here, here, _here_?
+
+    "Mi, yes, we brothers be,
+     So my fond heart sings to thee--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "Ah! yes, we brothers be;
+     Will you not answer me--
+          Here, here, _here_?"
+
+Gretchen was happy in the new kind of life. She did not fear the Indians;
+in fact, the thing that she feared most was the promised visit of Mrs.
+Woods. She was sure that her foster-mother's spirit would change toward
+the Indians, but the change had not yet come.
+
+One evening the schoolmaster came to call. He was bent upon a mission, as
+always. The family gave him a seat outside of the tent, and gathered
+around him, and they talked until the stars came out and were mirrored in
+the Columbia.
+
+One of the first questions asked by the old chief was, "Is Eagle's Plume
+(Benjamin) brave?" (a good scholar).
+
+"Yes, brave at times; he must learn to be brave always. He must always
+keep his better self. The world would be good if people would learn to
+keep their better selves. Do you see?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A chief should conquer himself first; obey the will of the Great
+Manitou--do you see?"
+
+"Yes, but how can we know his will?"
+
+"It is his will that we be our best minds. Forgive, and so make bad people
+good, and return good for bad. Do you see?"
+
+"Yes, boy, do you see?" (to Benjamin).
+
+"Yes, yes, I see what white man means. But white man do not so. He
+cheat--he kill."
+
+"_Boston tilicum_, what do you say?" asked the chief.
+
+"White man does not follow his best heart when he cheats and kills. It is
+wrong. All men should be brothers--see?"
+
+"Yes, I have tried to be a brother. I have no shed blood--I live in
+peace--like yonder river. The stars love to shine on the peaceful river.
+Benjamin will learn. I go away when the swallows go, and no more come when
+the swallows bring the spring on their wings again. Teach Benjamin to be
+his good self all the time; make him good _here_."
+
+All the Indian visitors who came to the place examined the violin
+cautiously, and the Indian hunters seemed to regard Gretchen with
+suspicion. When any asked her to play for them, the old chief would
+answer: "Not now, but at the Potlatch--then it speak and you will hear;
+you will hear what it says."
+
+But, of all the people that came to the lodge, no one could have been more
+curious than Mrs. Woods. She had been living in terror of the threatened
+events of the October feast, and yet she wished to make the Indians
+believe that she was indifferent to their ill-will, and that she possessed
+some hidden power that gave her security.
+
+She approached the lodge slowly on the occasion of her visit, picking red
+whortleberries by the way. Benjamin watched her nervous motions, and felt
+that they implied a want of respect, and he grew silent and looked
+stoical. Gretchen went out to meet her, and brought her to the old chief.
+
+[Illustration: _Afar loomed Mount Hood._]
+
+It was a beautiful day, one of those long dreams of golden splendor that
+glorify the banks of the Oregon. Eccentric Victor Trevette and his Indian
+wife were at the lodge, and the company were joined by the Rev. Jason Lee,
+who had come up the Columbia in the interests of the mission in the
+Willamette Valley. Seattle[B] was there, from the Willamette, then
+young, and not yet the titular chief of Governor Stevens.[C] It was a
+company of diverse spirits--Trevette, the reputed gambler, but the true
+friend of the Indian races; Lee, who had beheld Oregon in his early
+visions, and now saw the future of the mountain-domed country in dreams;
+sharp-tongued but industrious and warm-hearted Mrs. Woods; the musical
+German girl, with memories of the Rhine; and the Indian chief and his
+family. The Columbia rolled below the tall palisades, the opposite bank
+was full of cool shadows of overhanging rocks, sunless retreats, and
+dripping cascades of glacier-water. Afar loomed Mount Hood in grandeur
+unsurpassed, if we except Tacoma, inswathed in forests and covered with
+crystal crowns. The Chinook winds were blowing coolly, coming from the
+Kuro Siwo, or placid ocean-river from Japan; odoriferous, as though
+spice-laden from the flowery isles of the Yellow Sea. Warm in winter, cool
+in summer, like the Gulf winds of Floridian shores, the good angel of the
+Puget Sea territories is the Chinook wind from far Asia, a mysterious
+country, of which the old chief and his family knew no more than of the
+blessed isles.
+
+"It is a day of the Great Manitou," said the old chief. "He lights the
+sun, and lifts his wings for a shadow, and breathes on the earth. He fills
+our hearts with peace. I am glad."
+
+"I only wish my people in the East knew how wonderful this country is,"
+said Jason Lee. "I am blamed and distrusted because I leave my mission
+work to see what great resources here await mankind. I do it only for the
+good of others--something within me impels me to do it, yet they say I
+neglect my work to become a political pioneer. As well might they censure
+Joshua."
+
+"As a missionary," said the old hunter, "you would teach the Indians
+truth; as a pioneer, you would bring colonies here to rob them of their
+lands and rights. I can respect the missionary, but not the pioneer. See
+the happiness of all these tribal families. Benjamin is right--Mrs. Woods
+has no business here."
+
+"Adventurer," said Mrs. Woods, rising upon her feet, "I am a
+working-woman--I came out here to work and improve the country, and you
+came here to live on your Injun wife. The world belongs to those who work,
+and not to the idle. It is running water that freshens the earth. Husband
+and I built our house with our own hands, and I made my garden with my own
+hands, and I have defended my property with my own hands against bears
+and Injuns, and have kept husband to work at the block-house to earn money
+for the day of trouble and helplessness that is sure some day to come to
+us all. I raise my own garden-sass and all other sass. I'm an honest
+woman, that's what I am, and have asked nothing in the world but what I
+have earned, and don't you dare to question my rights to anything I
+possess! I never had a dollar that I did not earn, and that honestly, and
+what is mine is mine."
+
+"Be careful, woman," said the hunter. "It will not be yours very long
+unless you have a different temper and tongue. There are black wings in
+the sky, and you would not be so cool if you had heard the things that
+have come to my ears."
+
+Mrs. Woods was secretly alarmed. She felt that her assumed boldness was
+insincere, and that any insincerity is weakness. She glanced up a long
+ladder of rods or poles which were hung with Potlatch masks--fearful and
+merciless visages, fit to cover the faces of crime. She had heard that
+Umatilla would never put on a mask himself, although he allowed the custom
+at the tribal dances. Mrs. Woods dropped her black eyes from the ominous
+masks to the honest face of the chief.
+
+"There," said she, lifting her arm, "there sits an honest man. He never
+covered his heart with a mask--he never covered his face with a mask. He
+has promised me protection. He has promised to protect the school. I can
+trust a man who never wears a mask. Most people wear masks--Death takes
+the masks away; when Death comes to Umatilla, he will find great Umatilla
+only, fearless and noble--honest and true, but no mask. He never wore a
+mask."
+
+"But, woman," said Umatilla, "you are wearing a mask; you are afraid."
+
+"Yes, but I can trust your word."
+
+"You seek to please me for your own good."
+
+"Yes--but, Umatilla, I can trust your word."
+
+"The word of Umatilla was never broken. Death will come to Umatilla for
+his mask, and will go away with an empty hand. I have tried to make my
+people better.--Brother Lee, you have come here to instruct me--I honor
+you. Listen to an old Indian's story. Sit down all. I have something that
+I would say to you."
+
+The company sat down and listened to the old chief. They expected that he
+would speak in a parable, and he did. He told them in Chinook the story of
+
+
+_THE WOLF BROTHER._
+
+An old Indian hunter was dying in his lodge. The barks were lifted to
+admit the air. The winds of the seas came and revived him, and he called
+his three children to him and made his last bequests.
+
+"My son," he said, "I am going out into the unknown life whence I came.
+Give yourself to those who need you most, and always be true to your
+younger brother."
+
+"My daughter," he said, "be a mother to your younger brother. Give him
+your love, or for want of it he may become lonely and as savage as the
+animals are."
+
+The two older children promised, and the father died at sunset, and went
+into the unknown life whence he came.
+
+The old Indian had lived apart from the villages of men for the sake of
+peace; but now, after his death, the oldest son sought the villages and he
+desired to live in them. "My sister," he said, "can look out for my little
+brother. I must look out for myself."
+
+But the sister tired of solitude, and longed to go to the villages. So one
+day she said to her little brother: "I am going away to find our brother
+who has taken up his abode in the villages. I will come back in a few
+moons. Stay you here."
+
+But she married in the villages, and did not return.
+
+The little brother was left all alone, and lived on roots and berries. He
+one day found a den of young wolves and fed them, and the mother-wolf
+seemed so friendly that he visited her daily. So he made the acquaintance
+of the great wolf family, and came to like them, and roam about with them,
+and he no longer was lonesome or wished for the company of men.
+
+One day the pack of wolves came near the villages, and the little boy saw
+his brother fishing and his sister weaving under a tree. He drew near
+them, and they recognized him.
+
+"Come to us, little brother," said they, sorry that they had left him to
+the animals.
+
+"No--no!" said he. "I would rather be a wolf. The wolves have been kinder
+to me than you.
+
+    "My brother,
+     My brother,
+     I am turning--
+     am turning
+     Into a wolf.
+      You made me so!
+
+    "My sister,
+     My sister,
+     I am turning--
+     I am turning
+     Into a wolf.
+      You made me so!"
+
+"O little brother, forgive me," said the sister; "forgive me!"
+
+"It is too late now. See, I _am_ a wolf!"
+
+He howled, and ran away with the pack of wolves, and they never saw him
+again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Jason Lee, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become like the
+little brother.
+
+"Victor Trevette, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become
+like the little brother."
+
+The tall form of Marlowe Mann now appeared before the open entrance of the
+lodge. The Yankee schoolmaster had been listening to the story. The old
+chief bent his eye upon him, and said, "And, Boston tilicum, do you be
+good to Benjamin when I am gone, so that he shall not become like the
+little brother."
+
+"You may play, Gretchen, now--it is a solemn hour; the voices of the gods
+should speak."
+
+Gretchen took her violin. Standing near the door of the tent, she raised
+it to her arm, and the strains of some old German music rose in the
+glimmering air, and drifted over the Columbia.
+
+"I think that there are worlds around this," said the old chief. "The
+Great Spirit is good."
+
+The sun was going down. High in the air the wild fowls were flying, with
+the bright light yet on their wings. The glaciers of Mount Hood were
+flushed with crimson--a sea of glass mingled with fire. It was a pastoral
+scene; in it the old history of Oregon was coming to an end, after the
+mysteries of a thousand years, and the new history of civilization was
+beginning.
+
+Evening came, and the company dispersed, but the old chief and Gretchen
+sat down outside of the tent, and listened to the murmuring music of the
+Dalles of the Columbia, and breathed the vital air. The Columbia is a mile
+wide in some places, but it narrows at the Dalles, or shelves and pours
+over the stone steps the gathered force of its many tides and streams.
+Across the river a waterfall filled the air with misty beauty, and a
+castellated crag arose solitary and solemn--the remnant of some great
+upheaval in the volcanic ages.
+
+[Illustration: _A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn._]
+
+The red ashes of the sunset lingered after the fires of the long day had
+gone down, and the stars came out slowly. The old chief was sad and
+thoughtful.
+
+"Sit down by my feet, my child," he said to Gretchen, or in words of this
+meaning. "I have been thinking what it is that makes the music in the
+violin. Let us talk together, for something whispers in the leaves that my
+days are almost done."
+
+"Let me get the violin and play to you, father; we are alone."
+
+"Yes, yes; get the music, child, and you shall play, and we will talk. You
+shall sit down at my feet and play, and we will talk. Go, my little
+spirit."
+
+Gretchen brought her violin, and sat down at his feet and tuned it. She
+then drew her bow, and threw on the air a haunting strain.
+
+"Stop there, little spirit. It is beautiful. But what made it beautiful?"
+
+"My bow--don't you see?"
+
+Gretchen drew her bow, and again lifted the same haunting air.
+
+"No--no--my girl--not the bow--something behind the bow."
+
+"The strings?"
+
+"No--no--something behind the strings."
+
+"My fingers--so?"
+
+"No--no--something behind the fingers."
+
+"My head--_here_?"
+
+"No--something behind that."
+
+"My heart?"
+
+"No--no--something behind that."
+
+"I?"
+
+"Yes--you, but something behind that. I have not seen it, my girl--your
+spirit. It is that that makes the music; but there is something behind
+that. I can feel what I can not see. I am going away, girl--going away to
+the source of the stream. Then I will know everything good is
+beautiful--it is good that makes you beautiful, and the music beautiful.
+It is good that makes the river beautiful, and the stars. I am going away
+where all is beautiful. When I am gone, teach my poor people."
+
+Gretchen drew his red hand to her lips and kissed it. The chief bent low
+his plumed head and said:
+
+"That was so beautiful, my little spirit, that I am in a haste to go. One
+moon, and I will go. Play."
+
+Gretchen obeyed. When the strain died, the two sat and listened to the
+murmuring of the waters, as the river glided down the shelves, and both of
+them felt that the Spirit of Eternal Goodness with a Father's love
+watched over everything.
+
+The old chief rose, and said again:
+
+"When I am gone to my fathers, teach my poor people." He added: "The voice
+of the good spirits ask it--the All-Good asks it--I shall go away--to the
+land whence the light comes. You stay--teach. You will?"
+
+"Yes," said Gretchen--a consciousness of her true calling in life coming
+upon her, as in an open vision--"I will be their teacher."
+
+The old chief seemed satisfied, and said: "It is well; I am going away."
+
+Much of the chief's talk was acted. If he wished to speak of a star, he
+would point to it; and he would imitate a bird's call to designate a bird,
+and the gurgle of water when speaking of a running stream. He spoke
+Chinook freely, and to see him when he was speaking was to learn from his
+motions his meaning.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote B: See Historical Notes.]
+
+[Footnote C: See Historical Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE ROLL OVER AGAIN.
+
+
+One day Rev. Jason Lee came up from the Cascades, in a boat, to visit Mr.
+and Mrs. Woods on their donation claim. Mr. Lee at this tine was inspired
+with missionary zeal for the Indians, and he remembered Mrs. Woods kindly
+as an ignorant but earnest and teachable woman, whom the influence of his
+preaching had brought to his spiritual flock. He knew her needs of counsel
+and help, he pitied her hard and lonely life, and he came to visit her
+from time to time.
+
+He had once given her a copy of Wesley's Hymns, and these hymns she had
+unconsciously learned, and delighted to quote on all occasions. Her
+favorite hymn in the collection was written by Thomas Olivers, one of
+Wesley's coadjutors, beginning--
+
+    "The God of Abrah'm praise."
+
+She used to sing it often about her work; and one approaching the cabin,
+might often have heard her trying to sing to the old Hebrew melody of
+_Leoniel_--a tune perhaps as old as the Jewish Temple itself--such sublime
+thoughts as these--
+
+    "The God of Abrah'm praise,
+       At whose supreme command
+     From earth I rise, and seek the joys
+       At his right hand;
+     I all on earth forsake,
+       Its wisdom, fame, and power;
+     And him my only portion make,
+       My shield and tower.
+
+    "He by himself hath sworn,
+       I on his oath depend;
+     I shall, on eagles' wings upborne,
+       To heaven ascend:
+     I shall behold his face,
+       I shall his power adore,
+     And sing the wonders of his grace
+       Forever more."
+
+Another favorite hymn, in an easy metre, was John Wesley's triumphant
+review of life in his middle age. The tune, although marked in the
+music-books C.P.M., and thus indicating some difficulty, was really as
+simple as it was lively, and carried the voice along like the music of a
+meadow stream:
+
+    "How happy is the pilgrim's lot,
+     How free from every anxious thought,
+       From worldly hope and fear!
+     Confined to neither court nor cell,
+     His soul disdains on earth to dwell--
+       He only sojourns here."
+
+Mrs. Woods was singing as usual about her work, when Jason Lee rapped at
+her door.
+
+"Father Lee," said Mrs. Woods, "can I trust my eyes!--come again to see
+me, away out here in the timber? Well, you are welcome. I have got
+something on my mind, and I have long been wanting to have a talk with
+you. How is the mission at the Dalles?"
+
+"It is prospering, but I regard it as my duty to leave it and go back to
+the East; and this may be my farewell visit, though I expect to come back
+again."
+
+"Why, Father Lee, what has changed your mind? You surely can not think it
+your duty to leave this great country in the Oregon! You are needed here
+if anywhere in this world."
+
+"Yes, but it is on account of this country on the Oregon being great, as
+you call it, that I must go away. It was once my calling in life to become
+a missionary to the Indians of Oregon, and to see this wonderful land. The
+same Voice that called me to that work calls me again to go back to tell
+the people of the East of their great opportunity here. I owe it to my
+country's future to do this. I have eaten the grapes of a promised land,
+and I must return to my own people with the good report. I believe that
+the best life of America will yet be here--it seems to be so revealed to
+me. My mission was to the Indians; it is now to induce colonies to come to
+the Oregon."
+
+"Well, each heart knows its own calling and duty, and none of us are led
+alike. Father Lee, Gretchen has been reprovin' me, though she shouldn't,
+perhaps, being a girl. She was sassy to me, but she meant well. She is a
+well-meanin' girl, though I have to be hard on her sometimes--it is my
+duty to be, you know.
+
+"Well, some months ago, more than a year, an Injun ran away with my best
+saw, and that gave me a prejudice against the Injuns, I suppose.
+Afterward, Young Eagle's Plume--Benjamin, the chief's boy--insulted me
+before the school by takin' a stick out of my hand, and I came to dislike
+him, and he hates me. There are many Injuns in the timber now, and they
+all cast evil looks at me whenever I meet them, and these things hint that
+they are goin' to capture me at the Potlatch and carry me away. I hate
+Injuns.
+
+"But Gretchen has told me a thing that touches my feelin's. She says that
+Benjamin he says that he will protect me on account of his love for the
+master; and that, on account of my love for the good Master of us all and
+his cause, I ought to show a different spirit toward the Injuns. What do
+you think?"
+
+"Gretchen is right, although a girl should be modest with her elders.
+Hatred only multiplies itself; when one overcomes his evil passions he
+gains others, and loses nothing. Do you see?"
+
+"But I am always good to those I like and those who treat me well. Think
+how I used to take care of the sick folk on our way out here, and what I
+have tried to do for Gretchen!"
+
+"'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?' All people love
+those who love them--the savages do. To give up one's evil desires, and to
+help others by returning love for hate, is the true life. The best friends
+in the world that we can have are those that we have drawn to our hearts
+by forgiveness. Do something good to every Indian that hates you, and you
+will never be carried away captive."
+
+"But Whitman, remember Whitman: he showed the right spirit, and the Injuns
+killed _him_!"
+
+"His death was caused by a misapprehension, and it made him a martyr. His
+work lives. Men live in their work."
+
+"Well, Father Lee, if Benjamin can overcome his evil feelin's for his
+master, I ought to do so for mine, as Gretchen says. My bad spirit in this
+matter has long troubled me; it has caused a cloud to come over me when
+singin' hymns. I will give it all up now--I will give up everything, and
+just follow the better spirit. I want to do right, so that I can sing
+hymns."
+
+When Father Lee left the cabin, Mrs. Woods accompanied him to his boat on
+the river.
+
+As they were passing along under the tall spruces whose tops glimmered in
+the sun, and whose cool shadows made the trail delightful and refreshing,
+a black she-bear suddenly rose up before them, and a cub started up by her
+side. The great bear and the little bear both stood on their haunches,
+with their fore-feet outstretched like arms, as in great surprise. Mrs.
+Woods stopped and threw up her arms, and Parson Lee drew back.
+
+Mrs. Woods looked at the little bear, and the little bear at her.
+
+"Roll over, roll over!" she suddenly exclaimed. A strange event followed,
+very strange indeed in the eyes of the startled missionary. The little
+bear rolled itself into a ball, and began to turn over and over, and to
+come toward them in its somersaults.
+
+The mother bear made a peculiar noise, dropped upon her four feet and ran
+off into the timber; and the little one, hearing the noise and movement,
+leaped up and followed her.
+
+"What _does_ that mean?" asked the missionary, in astonishment.
+
+"That is Little Roll Over. I taught him that trick myself. He was once a
+pet of mine, and he ran away."
+
+"Extraordinary!" said the missionary; "and it seems to me, if you have
+such a good influence over bears, you might do a great deal of good among
+the Indians."
+
+"And I will," said Mrs. Woods. "I mean to live so I can sing hymns, and
+feel right about it."
+
+On the return home, Mrs. Woods looked everywhere for her pet bear. She did
+not fear the old bear, for these animals are generally harmless if
+unmolested. She called, "Roll Over! Roll Over!" when she came to the place
+where she had had the adventure. But there was no answer except from the
+blue jays that piped out their shrill call in the tall trees.
+
+Mrs. Woods came home to have a long battle with herself. Her idea of
+happiness seemed to be the freedom to sing hymns with a clear conscience,
+and the poor pioneer woman's philosophy was not very far from right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+
+Besides the Narrative of Lewis and Clarke, which was used in the school as
+a reader, Mr. Mann made use of another book in his teaching which greatly
+delighted his pupils and often awakened their sympathies. It was called
+"John E. Jewett and Thompson." It presented a picture of life on the coast
+early in the century. The strange story was much as follows:
+
+
+_THE ROBINSON CRUSOE OF VANCOUVER._
+
+About the year 1802 the ship Boston, from Boston, Mass., went to Hull,
+England, to secure a cargo of goods to carry to the Indians on the
+Northwest coast of America to trade for furs. She was a general
+trading-vessel, such as roamed the seas of the world adventurously at that
+time, and often made fortunes for the merchants of New York, Boston, and
+other Atlantic port cities.
+
+She was commanded by Captain John Salter, a clever man and a natural
+story-teller, whose engaging pictures of travel were sure to fascinate the
+young.
+
+While in England this man met a lad by the name of John Rogers Jewett, who
+listened eagerly to his romantic adventures, and who desired to embark
+with him for America, and was allowed by his parents to make the voyage.
+The ship sailed around Cape Horn to Nootka Island, one of the islands on
+the west coast of Vancouver Island between the forty-ninth and fiftieth
+parallel. Here the whole crew, with the exception of young Jewett and a
+man by the name of Thompson, were massacred by the Indians, and the
+strange and tragic narrative of the survivors was an American and English
+wonder-tale seventy years ago. Mr. Jewett published the account of his
+capture and sufferings, under the title of "John R. Jewett and Thompson,"
+or, to copy the title of the quaint old book before me, "A Narrative of
+the Adventures and Sufferings of John R. Jewett, only Survivor of the Crew
+of the Ship Boston, during a Captivity of nearly Three Years among the
+Savages of Nootka Sound." The book was issued from London, England, and
+from Middletown, Conn. After Robinson Crusoe, perhaps no book was more
+eagerly read by our grandfathers in their boyhood than this.
+
+The Indian king of Nootka was Maquina. He used to visit the ship,
+sometimes wearing a wooden mask over his face representing some wild
+beast. Such masks are still to be found among the Indians of Vancouver.
+
+Maquina was at first very friendly to Captain Salter, but one day the
+latter offended him, and he resolved to have his revenge by killing him
+and the crew, and destroying the ship. Accordingly, one morning, after he
+had been capering on deck and blowing a rude whistle, he said to the
+captain:
+
+"When do you intend to sail?"
+
+"To-morrow," replied the captain.
+
+"You love salmon--much in Friendly Cove; go, then, and catch some," said
+the chief.
+
+The captain thought it very desirable to have a large supply of fish on
+board, so he assented to the chief's proposal, and, after dinner with the
+latter, he sent away a jolly-boat or yawl with nine men to fish in
+Friendly Cove.
+
+A series of tragedies followed. "I went down to my vise-bench in the
+steerage," says Mr. Jewett, in his Narrative, "where I was employed in
+cleaning muskets. I had not been there more than an hour, when I heard a
+great bustle and confusion on deck. I ran up the steerage stairs, but
+scarcely was my head above deck when I was caught by the hair by one of
+the savages. My hair was short, and I fell from his hold into the
+steerage. As I was falling, he struck me with an axe and cut a deep gash
+in my forehead. I remained in a state of suspense for some time, when
+Maquina himself appeared at the hatch and ordered me to come up. What a
+terrific spectacle met my eyes! Six naked savages stood in a circle around
+me, covered with the blood of my murdered comrades! I thought that my last
+moment had come, and commended my soul to my Maker.
+
+"'John,' said the chief, 'I speak--you no say no; you say no--daggers
+come. Will you become my slave and fight for me?' I answered, 'Yes.' Then
+he told me that he would spare my life.
+
+"Taking me by the hand, he led me to the quarter-deck, where the most
+horrid sight presented itself; the heads of our unfortunate captain and
+his crew, to the number of twenty-five, were arranged in a line.
+
+"Maquina then ordered me to get the ship under way for Friendly Cove. We
+were there received by the inhabitants of the village with loud shouts of
+joy and a horrible drumming of sticks upon the roofs and sides of their
+houses. Maquina took me on shore to his house."
+
+Young Jewett became a favorite of the chief's son, and was made a member
+of the tribe. He was compelled to marry an Indian princess, and his search
+for his wife is a wonderful romance, and really very poetic, as the
+marriage customs of the tribes are associated with a rustic festival
+worthy of a painter and poet. The young princess chosen was beautiful, and
+served him with the most affectionate devotion, but he could not love her,
+because he had been compelled to marry her.
+
+The most remarkable incidents of this strange narrative are associated
+with the fate of those who were engaged in the massacre of the officers
+and crew of the Boston, and which show that the experience of retribution
+is a law common to all peoples and lands.
+
+The principal chief or sub-chief among the warriors was Tootooch. He had
+married Maquina's sister. He ranked next to Maquina in all things
+pertaining to war, and he had been the foremost leader and the most
+merciless of conquerors in the destruction of the Boston. He killed two
+men on shore, presumably with his own hand.
+
+Insanity is not common among the Indians. But a terrible mania took
+possession of this ambitious warrior. "While in the enjoyment of the
+highest health," says Mr. Jewett, "he was suddenly seized with delirium,
+in which he fancied that he saw the ghosts of the two men that he had
+murdered." The avenging vision followed him wherever he went. He was
+filled with terror at all times, and at last refused to eat to sustain his
+life. The Indians forced food into his mouth.
+
+Maquina was informed of the terrible state of the warrior's mind by his
+sister, Tootooch's wife. He went to the haunted man's house, taking Mr.
+Thompson and Mr. Jewett with him. "We found him raving about the two
+murdered men, Hall and Wood," says Jewett. "Maquina placed provisions
+before him, but he would not eat."
+
+At last the distressed _tyee_, induced by hunger, put forth his hand to
+touch the food. But he suddenly drew it back, saying that Hall and Wood
+were there.
+
+"They will not let me eat," said he, with a look of despair and terror.
+
+Maquina pointed to Thompson and Jewett.
+
+"Is it they who have bewitched you?" he asked.
+
+"_Wik_ (no); John _klashish_ (is good), Thompson _klashish_ (is good)."
+
+He arose and piteously put his hand on Jewett's shoulder, and, pointing to
+the food offered him, he said, "Eat."
+
+"Eat it yourself," replied Mr. Jewett. "Hall and Wood are not there."
+
+"You can not see them," he answered; "I can. I know that you can not see
+them."
+
+"What do you do in your own country in such cases as this?" asked Maquina.
+
+"We confine the person and whip him," said Jewett.
+
+The chief ordered that the haunted warrior should be confined and whipped;
+but the pain did not relieve the warrior's mind of the terrible vision of
+the two men that he had killed. He grew more wild. He would torture his
+slaves for diversion. His wife fled from him. The vision continued until
+he became completely exhausted, and Death came with a merciful face.
+
+"Early in June," says Mr. Jewett, "Tootooch, the crazy chief, died. The
+whole village set up a loud cry. The body was laid on a plank, and the
+head bound with a red fillet. It was then wrapped in an otter-skin robe
+and placed in a large coffin, which was ornamented with rows of white
+shells. It was buried by night in a cavern."
+
+The _tyees_ or chiefs had discussed often the policy of putting Mr. Jewett
+and Mr. Thompson to death, and so end all evidence of the destruction of
+the Boston in the event of new ships appearing on the coast. But the
+spectacle of Tootooch staring at the ghosts of the men that he had killed,
+and wasting away amid days and nights of horror, made them fear that the
+other warriors engaged in the massacre would become affected in the like
+way, and deterred them from any further violence. Jewett was at last
+rescued by a trading-ship, and was taken to the Columbia River, where he
+arrived shortly after the visit of Lewis and Clarke, of the famous
+expedition that bears these names. He finally came to New England and
+settled in Middletown, Conn. His history gives a very picturesque view of
+the habits and customs of the Indians on the Northwest coast nearly a
+century ago. The book can be found in antiquarian libraries, and should be
+republished in the interest of American folk-lore. The truth of the
+incidents gives the whole narrative a vivid and intense interest; it reads
+like De Foe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING.
+
+
+One day a man in a buckskin habit came to the door of the school-house and
+looked in upon the school. His face was that of a leader of men, hard and
+powerful; one could see that it feared nothing, and that it looked with
+contempt on whatever was artificial, affected, or insincere. His form had
+the strength and mettle of a pioneer. He rapped a loud, hard rap, and
+said, in a sturdy tone:
+
+"May I come in?"
+
+The master welcomed him cordially and courteously, and said:
+
+"This is Mr. Meek, I believe?"
+
+"Yes, old Joe Meek, the pioneer--you have heard of me."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Mr. Mann. "You have caught the spirit of Oregon--you are
+Oregon. You have made the interest of this great country your life; I
+honor you for it. I feel the same spirit coming over me. What we do here
+is done for a thousand years, for here the great life of the Anglo-Saxon
+race is destined to come. I can see it; I feel it. The morning twilight of
+time is about me. I can hear the Oregon calling--calling; to teach here is
+a glorious life; the whole of humanity is in it. I have no wish to return
+to the East again."
+
+"Stranger, give me your hand."
+
+The New England schoolmaster took the hard hand of the old pioneer, and
+the two stood there in silence.
+
+The children could not understand the great, soul-expanding sympathy that
+made these two men friends. They gazed on Mr. Meek's buckskin jacket and
+trousers with curiosity, for they were picturesque with their furs, belts,
+and weapons, and he looked like a warrior or a forest knight clad in
+armor.
+
+He wore the same buckskin suit when he appeared in Washington as the
+delegate to Congress from Oregon. It was at the time of Polk and Dallas,
+and not a person in Washington probably knew him when he made his
+appearance at the Congressional Hotel.
+
+The people at the hotel stared at him as the children did now. He went
+into the great dining-room with the other Congressmen, but alone and
+unknown. The colored waiters laughed at him as he took his seat at the
+table.
+
+The other people at the table were served, but no one came near him. At
+last he turned and faced a hurrying colored man, and, in a voice that
+silenced the room, said:
+
+"Waiter, come here!"
+
+The waiter rolled up his eyes and said, "Sir?"
+
+"Have you any big meat to-day?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Any bear?"
+
+"Any bear? bear? No, sir."
+
+"Any buffalo?"
+
+"Any buffalo--buffalo? Where did you come from? No, sir."
+
+"Well, waiter you may bring me what you have."
+
+The waiter went away with white teeth, and a smile and titter passed
+around the table. The waiter returned with the usual first course of the
+meal, and was about to hurry away, when the old pioneer took out his
+pistol and laid it down on the table, saying:
+
+"Waiter, you stand there, I may want you; and if anybody wants to know who
+I am, tell him I am Hon. Joseph Meek, the delegate of the people of
+Oregon."
+
+When it was known who Mr. Meek was, he was met by Mr. Dallas, the courtly
+Vice-President.
+
+"I will attend you to the reception this afternoon, where you will meet
+the wives of the Congressmen," said he. "I will call for you at three."
+
+The Vice-President called, and was surprised to find Mr. Meek still in his
+buckskins.
+
+"You do not intend to go in that habit to the reception?" said he.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Meek, "or else not go at all. In the first place, I have
+nothing else to wear, and what is good enough for me to wear among the
+people of Oregon is good enough for their representative here."
+
+We have given, in these two anecdotes, very nearly Mr. Meek's own words.
+
+A few days after the visit of this most extraordinary man, another visitor
+came. She was an earnest-looking woman, on an Indian pony, and there was a
+benevolence in her face and manner that drew the whole school into
+immediate sympathy with her. The lady was Mrs. Spaulding, one of the
+so-called "Brides of Oregon." Her husband had come to the Territory with
+Dr. Whitman and his bride. The long missionary journey was the bridal tour
+of Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spaulding. They were the first white women who
+crossed the Rocky Mountains. It was related of Mrs. Spaulding, who had a
+beautiful voice, and was a member of a church quartet or choir in a
+country town in New York, as a leading singer, that, just before leaving
+the place for her long horseback journey of more than two thousand miles,
+she sang in the church the hymn beginning--
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+in such an affecting manner as to silence the rest of the choir, and melt
+the congregation to tears:
+
+    "Home, thy joys are passing lovely,
+      Joys no stranger's heart can tell;
+     Happy scenes and happy country,
+      Can I bid you all farewell?
+        Can I leave thee,
+      Far in heathen lands to dwell?"
+
+This lady addressed the school, and spoke feelingly of the condition of
+the Indian race, and of the field for the teacher in the valleys of the
+Columbia.
+
+Gretchen listened to the address with open heart. There are moments of
+revelation when a knowledge of one's true calling in life comes to the
+soul. Faith as a blind but true guide vanishes, and the eye sees. Such was
+the hour to Gretchen. She had often felt, when playing on the violin, that
+the inspiration that gave such influence to her music should be used in
+teaching the tribes that were so susceptible to its influence. This
+feeling had grown in the playing and singing of a school-song, the words
+of which were written by Mrs. Hunter, an English lady, and the wife of the
+famous Dr. Hunter, which showed the heroism and fortitude of the Indian
+character:
+
+    "The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day,
+     But glory remains when the light fades away;
+     Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
+     For the son of Alknoomook will never complain."
+
+The tune or melody was admirably adapted to the violin. Benjamin loved to
+hear it sung, and Gretchen was pleased to sing and to play it.
+
+Mr. Mann asked Gretchen to play for Mrs. Spaulding, and she chose this
+simple but expressive melody. He then asked the school to sing, and he
+selected the words of
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+to the music of Rousseau's Dream. Mrs. Spaulding could hardly keep from
+joining in the tune and hymn, then well known to all the missionary
+pioneers. At the words--
+
+    "In the desert let me labor,
+     On the mountain let me tell,"
+
+her beautiful voice rose above the school, and Gretchen's fingers trembled
+as she played the air.
+
+As the lady rode away, Gretchen felt tears coming into her eyes. The
+school was dismissed, and the pupils went away, but Gretchen lingered
+behind. She told Benjamin to go to the lodge, and that she would follow
+him after she had had a talk with the master.
+
+"That song is beautiful," said Gretchen. "'In the desert let me labor.'
+That is what I would like to do all my life. Do you suppose that I could
+become a teacher among the Indians like Mrs. Spaulding? It would make me
+perfectly happy if I could. If I were to study hard, would you help me to
+find such a place in life?"
+
+Gretchen's large eyes, filled with tears, were bent earnestly on the face
+of Mr. Mann.
+
+"Yes," he said, "and if I can inspire you only to follow me in such work,
+it will repay me for an unknown grave in the forests of the Columbia."
+
+Gretchen started; she trembled she knew not why, then buried her face in
+her arms on the rude log desk and sobbed.
+
+She raised her head at last, and went out, singing--
+
+    "In the desert let me labor."
+
+It was a glorious sundown in autumn. The burning disk of the sun hung in
+clouds of pearl like an oriel-window in a magnificent temple. Black
+shadows fell on the placid waters of the Columbia, and in the limpid air
+under the bluffs Indians fished for salmon, and ducks and grebes sported
+in river weeds.
+
+Marlowe Mann went away from the log school-house that night a happy man.
+He had seen that his plans in life were already budding. He cared little
+for himself, but only for the cause to which he devoted his life--to begin
+Christian education in the great empire of Oregon.
+
+But how unexpected this episode was, and how far from his early dreams!
+His spirit had inspired first of all this orphan girl from the Rhine, who
+had been led here by a series of strange events. This girl had learned
+faith from her father's prayers. On the Rhine she had never so much as
+heard of the Columbia--the new Rhine of the sundown seas.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A WARNING.
+
+
+One evening, as Gretchen was sitting outside of the lodge, she saw the
+figure of a woman moving cautiously about in the dim openings of the
+fir-trees. It was not the form of an Indian woman--its movement was
+mysterious. Gretchen started up and stood looking into the darkening
+shadows of the firs. Suddenly the form came out of the clearing--it was
+Mrs. Woods. She waved her hand and beckoned to Gretchen, and then drew
+back into the forest and disappeared.
+
+Gretchen went toward the openings where Mrs. Woods had so suddenly and
+strangely appeared. But no one was there. She wondered what the secret of
+the mysterious episode could be. She returned to the lodge, but said
+nothing about what she had seen. She passed a sleepless night, and
+resolved to go to see her foster-mother on the following day.
+
+So, after school the next afternoon, she returned to her old home for a
+brief visit, and to gain an explanation of the strange event of the
+evening before.
+
+She found Mrs. Woods very sad, and evidently troubled by some ominous
+experience.
+
+"So you saw me?" was her first salutation. "I didn't dare to come any
+further. They did not see me--did they?"
+
+"But, mother, why did you go away--why did you come to the lodge?"
+
+"O Gretchen, husband has been at home from the shingle-mill, and he has
+told me something dreadful!"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"There's a conspiracy!"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Among the Injuns. A friendly Injun told husband in secret that there
+would be no more seen of the log school-house after the Potlatch."
+
+"Don't fear, mother; the chief and Benjamin will protect that."
+
+"But that isn't all, Gretchen. Oh, I am so glad that you have come home!
+There are dark shadows around us everywhere. I can feel 'em--can't you?
+The atmosphere is all full of dark faces and evil thoughts. I can't bear
+to sleep alone here now. Gretchen, there's a plot to capture the
+schoolmaster."
+
+"Don't fear, mother. I know Umatilla--he will never permit it."
+
+"But, Gretchen, the Injun told husband something awful."
+
+"What?"
+
+"That the schoolmaster would one day perish as Dr. Whitman did. Dr.
+Whitman was stricken down by the Injun whom he regarded as his best
+friend, and he never knew who dealt the blow. He went out of life like one
+smitten by lightning. O Gretchen!"
+
+"But, mother, I do not fear. The Indians thought that Dr. Whitman was a
+conjurer. We make people true, the master says, by putting confidence in
+them. I believe in the old chief and in Benjamin, and there will no evil
+ever come to the schoolmaster or the log school-house."
+
+"Gretchen, are you sure? Then I did not bring you away out here for
+nothing, did I? You may be the angel of deliverance of us all. Who knows?
+But, Gretchen, I haven't told you all yet."
+
+Mrs. Woods's face clouded again.
+
+"The Injun told husband that some of the warriors had formed a plot
+against _me_, and that, if they were to capture me, they would torture me.
+Gretchen, I am afraid. Don't you pity me?"
+
+"Mother, I know my power over the chief and Benjamin, and I know the power
+of a chief's sense of honor. I do pity you, you are so distressed. But,
+mother, no evil will ever come to you where I am, nor the school where I
+am. I am going to be a teacher among these Indians, if I live; I feel this
+calling, and my work will somehow begin here."
+
+"A teacher among the Injuns! You? You a teacher? Are anvils going to fly?
+Here I am, a poor lone woman, away out here three thousand miles from
+home, and tremblin' all over, at every sound that I hear at night, for
+fear I shall be attacked by Injuns, and you are dreamin', with your head
+all full of poetry, of goin' away and leavin' me, the best friend that you
+ever had on the earth, as good as a mother to you; of goin' away--of
+leavin' me, to teach a lot of savages! Gretchen, I knew that the world was
+full of empty heads, but I never realized how empty the human heart is
+until now! Been a mother to you, too!"
+
+"O mother, I never thought of leavin' you unless you wished it."
+
+"What did you think was goin' to become of me? I never kissed any child
+but you, and sometimes, when you are real good, I feel just as though I
+was your mother."
+
+"I thought that you would help me."
+
+"Help you, what doin'?"
+
+"To teach the Indians."
+
+"To teach the Injuns--Indians you call 'em! I'd like to teach one Injun to
+bring back my saw! I never tried to teach but one Injun--and he was _him_.
+You can't make an eagle run around a door-yard like a goose, and you can't
+teach an Injun to saw wood--the first thing you know, the saw will be
+missin'.--But how I am runnin' on! I do have a good deal of prejudice
+against the savages; nevertheless--"
+
+"I knew, mother, that you would say 'nevertheless.' It seems to me that
+word is your good spirit. I wish you would tell me what thought came to
+your mind when you said that word."
+
+"'Nevertheless?'"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, the Master--"
+
+"He said--"
+
+"Yes--preach the gospel to every creature! I suppose that meant Injuns and
+all."
+
+"Yes--he said '_teach_'--so the schoolmaster explained it."
+
+"Did he? Well, I ought to obey it in spirit--hadn't I?--or at least not
+hinder others. I might help you teach it if I could get into the right
+spirit. But what put that thought into your head?"
+
+"Mrs. Spaulding, the missionary, has been to visit the school. She sang so
+beautifully! These were the words:
+
+    "'In the desert let me labor,
+      On the mountain let me tell.'
+
+"When she sung that, it all came to me--what I was--what I was sent into
+the world to do--what was the cause of your loving me and bringing me out
+here--I saw a plan in it all. Then, too, it came to me that you would at
+first not see the calling as I do, but that you would say _nevertheless_,
+and help me, and that we would work together, and do some good in the
+world, you and I. Oh! I saw it all."
+
+"Gretchen, did you see all that? Do you think that the spirit has eyes,
+and that they see true? But how could I begin? The Injuns all hate me."
+
+"Make them love you."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Say _nevertheless_ to them."
+
+"Well, Gretchen, you are a good girl, and I am sorry for the hard things
+that I have said. I do not feel that I have shown just the right spirit
+toward Benjamin. But he has said that he will not do me any harm, for the
+sake of his master, and I am willin' to give up my will for my Master. It
+is those that give up their desires that have their desires in this world,
+and anybody who does an injury to another makes for himself a judgment-day
+of some sort. You may tell Benjamin that I am real sorry for bein' hard to
+him, and that, if he will come over and see me, I'll give him a carved
+pipe that husband made. Now, Gretchen, you may go, and I'll sit down and
+think a spell. I'll be dreadful lonely when you're gone."
+
+Gretchen kissed her foster-mother at the door, and said:
+
+"Your new spirit, mother, will make us both so happy in the future! We'll
+work together. What the master teaches me, I'll teach you."
+
+"What--books?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"O Gretchen, your heart is real good! But see here--my hair is gray. Oh, I
+am sorry--what a woman I might have been!"
+
+Gretchen lay down in the lodge that night beside the dusky wife of the
+old chief. The folds of the tent were open, and the cool winds came in
+from the Columbia, under the dim light of the moon and stars.
+
+The _tepee_, or tent, was made of skins, and was adorned with
+picture-writing--Indian poetry (if so it might be called). Overhead were
+clusters of beautiful feathers and wings of birds. The old chief loved to
+tell her stories of these strange and beautiful wings. There were the
+wings of the condor, of the bald and the golden eagle, of the duck-hawk,
+pigeon-hawk, squirrel-hawk, of the sap-sucker, of the eider duck, and a
+Zenaider-like dove. Higher up were long wings of swans and albatrosses,
+heads of horned owls, and beaks of the laughing goose. Through the still
+air, from some dusky shallow of the river came the metallic calls of the
+river birds, like the trumpeting swan. The girl lay waking, happy in
+recalling the spirit with which her foster-mother had accepted her plan of
+life.
+
+Suddenly her sensitive spirit became aware of something unusual and
+strange at the opening of the tent. There was a soft, light step without,
+a guarded footfall. Then a tall, dark shadow distinctly appeared, with a
+glitter of mother-of-pearl ornaments and a waving of plumes. It stood
+there like a ghost of a vivid fancy, for a time. Gretchen's heart beat. It
+was not an unusual thing for an Indian to come to the _tepee_ late in the
+evening; but there was something mysterious and ominous in the bearing and
+atmosphere of this shadowy visitor. The form stepped within the opening of
+the tent, and a voice whispered, "Umatilla, awake!"
+
+The old chief raised himself on his elbow with an "Ugh!"
+
+"Come out under the moon."
+
+The old chief arose and went out, and the two shadowy forms disappeared
+among a column of spruces on the musical banks of the Columbia.
+
+Gretchen could not sleep. The two Indians returned late, and, as they
+parted, Gretchen heard Umatilla's deep voice say, "No!"
+
+Her fears or instincts told her that the interview had reference to plots
+which were associated with the great Potlatch, now near at hand. She had
+heard the strange visitor say, "The moon is growing," and there was
+something shadowy in the very tone in which the words were spoken.
+
+Mrs. Woods sat down in her home of bark and splints all alone after
+Gretchen's departure.
+
+"She offers to teach me," she said to herself. "I am so sorry that I was
+not able to teach her. I never read much, any way, until I came under the
+influence of the Methody. I might have taught her spiritual things--any
+one can have spiritual knowledge, and that is the highest of all. But I
+have loved my own will, and to give vent to my temper and tongue. I will
+change it all. There are times when I am my better self. I will only talk
+and decide upon what is best in life at such times as these. That would
+make my better nature grow. When I am out of sorts I will be silent-like.
+Heaven help me! it is hard to begin all these things when one's hair is
+turnin' gray, and I never knew any one's gray hair to turn young again."
+
+She sat in the twilight crying over herself, and at last sang the mournful
+minor measures of a very quaint old hymn with a peculiar old history:
+
+    "From whence doth this union arise
+      That hatred is conquered by love?
+     It fastens our souls in such ties
+      As distance and time can't remove."
+
+The October moon came up larger and larger night by night. It stood on the
+verge of the horizon now in the late afternoon, as if to see the
+resplendent setting of the sun. One wandered along the cool roads at the
+parting of day between the red sun in the west and the golden moon in the
+east, and felt in the light of the two worlds the melancholy change in the
+atmospheres of the year. The old volcanoes glistened, for a wintry crust
+was widening over their long-dead ovens. Mount Saint Helens, as the far
+range which led up to the relic of the ancient lava-floods that is now
+known by that name was called by the settlers, was wonderfully beautiful
+in the twilights of the sun and moon. Mount Hood was a celestial glory,
+and the shadows of the year softened the glimmering glories of the
+Columbia. The boatman's call echoed long and far, and the crack of the
+flint-lock gun leaped in its reverberations from hill to hill as though
+the air was a succession of hollow chambers. Water-fowl filled the streams
+and drifted through the air, and the forests seemed filled with young and
+beautiful animals full of happy life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE POTLATCH.
+
+
+A potlatch among the tribes of the Northwest means a feast at which some
+wealthy Indian gives away to his own people or to a friendly tribe all
+that he has. For this generosity he becomes a councilor or wise man, or
+judge, an attendant on the chief in public affairs, and is held in
+especial honor during the rest of his life.
+
+To attain this honor of chief man or councilor, many an ambitious young
+Indian labors for years to amass wampum, blankets, and canoes. The feast
+at which he exchanges these for political honors is very dramatic and
+picturesque. It is usually held at the time of the full moon, and lasts
+for several days and nights. One of the principal features is the
+_Tamanous_, or Spirit-dance, which takes place at night amid blazing
+torches and deafening drums.
+
+A chief rarely gives a Potlatch; he has no need of honors. But Umatilla
+desired to close his long and beneficent chieftainship with a gift-feast.
+He loved his people, and there seemed to him something noble in giving
+away all his private possessions to them, and trusting the care of his old
+age to their hearts. His chief men had done this, and had gained by it an
+influence which neither power nor riches can attain. This supreme
+influence over the hearts of his people he desired to possess. The
+gift-feast was held to be the noblest service that an Indian could render
+his race.
+
+At the great Potlatch he would not only give away his private goods, but
+would take leave of the chieftainship which he had held for half a
+century. It was his cherished desire to see Benjamin made chief. His heart
+had gone into the young heart of the boy, and he longed to see The Light
+of the Eagle's Plume, sitting in his place amid the councilors of the
+nation and so beginning a new history of the ancient people.
+
+[Illustration: _At the Cascades of the Columbia_.]
+
+The full moon of October is a night sun in the empires of the Columbia and
+the Puget Sea. No nights in the world can be more clear, lustrous, and
+splendid than those of the mellowing autumn in the valleys of Mount Saint
+Helens, Mount Hood, and the Columbia. The moon rises over the crystal
+peaks and domes like a living glory, and mounts the deep sky amid the pale
+stars like a royal torch-bearer of the sun. The Columbia is a rolling
+flood of silver, and the gigantic trees of the centuries become a ghostly
+and shadowy splendor. There is a deep and reverent silence everywhere,
+save the cry of the water-fowl in the high air and the plash of the
+Cascades. Even the Chinook winds cease to blow, and the pine-tops to
+murmur.
+
+It was such a night that the Potlatch began. On an open plateau
+overlooking the Columbia the old chief had caused a large platform to be
+built, and on this were piled all his canoes, his stores of blankets, his
+wampum, and his regal ornaments and implements of war. Around the plateau
+were high heaps of pine-boughs to be lighted during the Spirit-dance so as
+to roll a dark cloud of smoke under the bright light of the high moon, and
+cause a weird and dusky atmosphere.
+
+The sun set; the shadows of night began to fall, but the plateau was
+silent. Not a human form was to be seen anywhere, not even on the river.
+Stars came out like lamps set in celestial windows, and sprinkled their
+rays on the crimson curtains of the evening.
+
+The glaciers on Mount Hood began to kindle as with silver fires. The east
+seemed like a lifting gate of light. The great moon was rising.
+
+Hark! At the first ray of the moon there are heard low, mysterious sounds
+everywhere. The forests are full of them--calls, like the coyote's bark,
+or bird-calls, or secret signals. They are human voices. They answer each
+other. There are thousands of voices calling and answering.
+
+The full moon now hangs low over the forests, golden as the morning sun in
+the mists of the calm sea. There is a piercing cry and a roll of
+war-drums, and suddenly the edges of the forest are full of leaping and
+dancing forms. The plateau is alive as with an army. Pipes play, shells
+rattle, and drums roll, and the fantastic forms with grotesque motions
+pass and repass each other.
+
+Up the Columbia comes a fleet of canoes like a cloud passing over the
+silvery ripples. The river is all alive with human forms, and airy paddles
+and the prows of tilting boats.
+
+The plateau swarms. It is covered with waving blankets and dancing plumes.
+All is gayety and mirth.
+
+There is another roll of drums, and then silence.
+
+The circling blankets and plumes become motionless. The chief of the
+Cascades is coming, and with him is Benjamin and his young bride, and
+Gretchen.
+
+The royal party mount the platform, and in honor of the event the
+torch-dance begins. A single torch flashes upon the air; another is
+lighted from it, another and another. A hundred are lighted--a thousand.
+They begin to dance and to whirl; the plateau is a dazzling scene of
+circling fire. Gretchen recalled the old _fêtes_ amid the vineyards of the
+Rhine in her childhood.
+
+Hither and thither the circles move--round and round. There is poetry in
+this fire-motion; and the great army of fire-dancers become excited under
+it, and prepared for the frenzy of the Spirit-dance that is to follow.
+
+The torches go out. The moon turns the smoke into wannish clouds of white
+and yellow, which slowly rise, break, and disappear.
+
+There is another roll of drums. Wild cries are heard in the forests. The
+"biters" are beginning their hunt.
+
+Who are the biters? They are Indians in hides of bears and wolves, who run
+on their hands and feet, uttering terrible cries, and are followed by
+women, who, to make the scene more fearful, pretend to hold them back, and
+restrain them from violence. The Spirit-dance is held to be a sacred
+frenzy, and before it begins the biters are charged to hunt the woods for
+any who have not joined the army of dancers, and, if such are found, to
+bite them and tear their flesh with their teeth. They also guard the dance
+like sentinels, and fly at one who attempts to leave it before it is done.
+
+The frenzied shrieks of these human animals, and of the women who follow
+them, produce a wonderful nervous effect upon the listening multitudes.
+All feel that they are about to enter into the ecstatic spiritual
+condition of departed souls, and are to be joined by the shades of the
+dead heroes and warriors of tradition and story.
+
+Each dancer has a masque. It may be an owl's head with mother-of-pearl
+eyes, or a wooden pelican's beak, or a wolf's head. It may be a wooden
+animal's face, which can be pulled apart by a string, and reveal under it
+an effigy of a human face, the first masque changing into great ears. The
+museum at Ottawa, Canada, contains a great number of such masques, and
+some missionaries in the Northwest make curious collections of them.
+
+The whirling begins. Everywhere are whirling circles--round and round they
+go. The sight of it all would make a spectator dizzy. Cries arise, each
+more and more fearful; the whole multitude are at last shrieking with
+dizzy heads and wildly beating pulses. The cries become deafening; an
+almost superhuman frenzy passes over all; they seem to be no longer
+mortal--the armies of the dead are believed to be about them; they think
+that they are reveling in the joys of the heroes' paradise. One by one
+they drop down, until the whole assembly is exhausted.
+
+At midnight the great fires are kindled, and throw their lights and
+shadows over the frenzied sleepers. Such was the _Tamanous_-dance, and so
+ended the first night of the feast.
+
+On the second night the old chief gave away his private possessions, and
+on the third the wedding ceremony was performed.
+
+The wild and inhuman Death-dance, which the tribe demanded, was expected
+to end the festival at the going down of the shadowy moon. Could it be
+prevented after the traditions of unknown centuries, and at a time when
+the historical pride of the warriors was awakened to celebrate the
+barbarous deeds of their ancestors?
+
+The wedding was simple. It consisted chiefly in gifts to the bride,
+Multoona. The girl was fantastically dressed, with ornaments of shells and
+feathers, and she followed the young prince demurely. After the ceremony
+of the bridal gifts came the Fire-fly dance, in which light-torches
+gleamed out in vanishing spirals here and there, and over all the plain.
+Then followed the _Tamanous_ or Spirit dance, in which a peculiar kind of
+frenzy is excited, as has been described. The excitement was somewhat less
+than usual this night, on account of the great orgies which were expected
+to follow.
+
+The third and great night of the Potlatch came. It was the night of the
+full October moon. The sun had no sooner gone down in the crimson
+cloud-seas among the mountains, than the moon, like another sun, broad and
+glorious, lifted its arch in the distant blue of the serene horizon.
+
+The Indians gathered on the glimmering plain in the early shadows of
+evening, besmeared with yellow ochre and war-paint. Every head was plumed.
+There was a savagery in their looks that had not been seen before.
+
+The wild dancers began their motions. The Spirit or _Tamanous_ dance
+awakened a frenzy, and all were now impatient for the dance of the Evil
+Spirits to begin.
+
+The moon hung low over the plateau and the river. The fires were kindled,
+and the smoke presently gave a clouded gold color to the air.
+
+The biters were out, running hither and thither after their manner, and
+filling the air with hideous cries.
+
+All was expectation, when the old chief of the Cascades stepped upon the
+platform, and said:
+
+"Listen, my children--listen, O sons of the warriors of old. Twice four
+times sixty seasons, according to the notch-sticks, have the wings of wild
+geese cleaved the sky, and all these years I have lived in peace. My last
+moon has arisen--I have seen the smile of the Great Spirit, and I know
+that the last moon hangs over my head.
+
+"Warriors, listen! You have always obeyed me. Obey me once more. Dance not
+the dance of the Evil Spirits to-night. Let me die in peace. Let not blood
+stain my last days. I want you to remember the days of Umatilla as the
+days of corn and maize and the pipes of peace. I have given you all I
+have--my days are done. You will respect me."
+
+There were mutterings everywhere, suppressed cries of rage, and sharp
+words of chagrin and disappointment. The old chief saw the general
+dissatisfaction, and felt it like a crushing weight upon his soul.
+
+"I am going to light the pipe of peace," said he, "and smoke it now before
+you. As many of you as love Umatilla, light the pipes of peace."
+
+Not a light glimmered in the smoky air. There were words of hate and
+suppressed cries everywhere. A circle was forming, it widened, and it
+seemed as though the dreaded dance was about to begin in spite of the
+command of the old chief.
+
+Suddenly a form in white stood beside Umatilla. It was Gretchen. A white
+arm was raised, and the martial strain of the "Wild Hunt of Lutzow"
+marched out like invisible horsemen, and caused every Indian to listen.
+Then there were a few sharp, discordant strains, and then the _Traumerei_
+lifted its spirit-wings of music on the air.
+
+[Music: Tranmerei.
+
+BY ROBERT SCHUMANN, SIMPLIFIED BY F. BRANDEIS.]
+
+[Music]
+
+[Music]
+
+The murmurs ceased. The plain grew still. "Romance" followed, and then the
+haunting strain of the _Traumerei_ rose again. It ceased. Lights began to
+glimmer here and there. Peace-pipes were being lighted.
+
+"You have saved your people," said Umatilla. "Play it again."
+
+Again and again the dream-music drifted out on the air. The plain was now
+filled with peace-pipes. When the last blended tones died away, the whole
+tribe were seated on the long plateau, and every old warrior was smoking a
+pipe of peace.
+
+Gretchen saw that her spirit, through the violin, had calmed the sea. She
+was sure now that she had rightly read her mission in life. Amid the scene
+of glimmering peace-pipes, a heavenly presence seemed near her. She had
+broken the traditions of centuries by the sympathetic thrill of four
+simple strings. She felt that Von Weber was there in spirit, and Schumann.
+She felt that her father's soul was near her; but, more than all, she felt
+that she was doing the work of the Great Commission. She bowed her head on
+the instrument, thought of poor, terrorized Mrs. Woods in her lonely home,
+and wept.
+
+A seen and unseen world had come to her--real life. She saw her power;
+the gates of that mysterious kingdom, in which the reborn soul is a new
+creation, had been opened to her. Her spirit seemed to rise as on
+new-created wings, and the world to sink beneath her. She had spiritual
+sight, ears, and senses--a new consciousness of Divine happiness. Her
+purpose became strong to live for the soul alone, and she sung, over and
+over again, amid the silence of the peace-pipes and the rising of those
+puffs of smoke in the silver illumination of the high moon--
+
+    "In the deserts let me labor,
+      On the mountains let me tell."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN.
+
+
+An hour passed in this mysterious and strange tranquillity--the noon hour
+of night. The warriors seemed contented and satisfied. Many of them were
+old; some of them remembered the coming of the first ships to the
+Columbia, and a few of them the long visit of Vancouver. They knew the
+wisdom of Umatilla, and seemed proud that his will had been so readily
+obeyed.
+
+But not so with the biters. They were young, and they had plotted on this
+night to begin hostilities against the settlers. Their plan had been to
+burn the log school-house and the house of the Woodses, and to make a
+captive of Mrs. Woods, whose hostile spirit they wished to break and
+punish. Soon after the quiet scene at midnight they began to be restless.
+Their cries arose here and there about the margin of the plateau and along
+the river.
+
+The old chief knew their feelings, and saw the stormy ripples here and
+there. He arose slowly, and called:
+
+"My people, draw near."
+
+The tribe gathered about the platform. The young braves knew what the old
+chief was about to say, and their cries of discontent grew loud and
+multiplied.
+
+"The log school-house!" shrieked one, in a voice of rage.
+
+"_Pil-pil!_" cried another. "_Pil-pil!_" echoed many voices. A tumult
+followed, and Gretchen started up from her reverie, and heard among the
+restless murmurs the name of Mrs. Woods.
+
+She felt a nervous terror for a moment, but her spiritual sense and faith,
+which had come to her like a new-born life, returned to her.
+
+She arose on the platform and took her violin, and looked down upon the
+sea of dusky faces in the smoky moonlight. She drew her bow. The music
+quivered. There was a lull in the excited voices. She played low, and
+there followed a silence.
+
+The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face and
+stood beside her.
+
+"Play the beautiful air." She played the _Traumerei_ again.
+
+The chief arose, as the last strain died away, and said:
+
+"My people, listen."
+
+The plateau was silent. The Columbia could be heard flowing. The trees
+seemed listening. Benjamin came upon the platform, reeling, and seemed
+about to speak to his father, but the old chief did not heed.
+
+"My people, listen," repeated the chief.
+
+A wild shriek of pain rent the air, and Benjamin dropped at the feet of
+his father. It was his voice that uttered the cry of agony and despair as
+he fell.
+
+What had happened?
+
+The boy lay on the platform as one dead. The old chief bent over him and
+laid his hand on his face. He started back as he did so, for the face was
+cold. But the boy's eyes pitifully followed every movement of his father.
+Gretchen sunk down beside the body, and drew her hand across his forehead
+and asked for water. Benjamin knew her.
+
+Soon his voice came again. He looked wistfully toward Gretchen and said:
+
+"I shall never go to find the Black Eagle's nest again. It is the plague.
+My poor father!--my poor father!"
+
+"Send for the medicine-man," said the chief. "Quick!"
+
+Hopping-Bear, the old medicine-man, came, a dreadful figure in eagle's
+plumes and bear-skins. To affect the imagination of the people when he was
+going to visit the sick, he had been accustomed to walk upon his two hands
+and one foot, with the other foot moving up and down in the air. He
+believed that sickness was caused by obsession, or the influence of some
+evil spirit, and he endeavored, by howlings, jumpings, and rattling of
+snake-skins, to drive this imaginary spirit away. But he did not begin his
+incantations here; he looked upon Benjamin with staring eyes, and cried
+out:
+
+"It is the plague!"
+
+The old chief of the Cascades lifted his helpless face to the sky.
+
+"The stars are gone out!" he said. "I care for nothing more."
+
+The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after the
+convulsions, then consciousness would return. In one of these moments of
+consciousness he asked of Gretchen:
+
+"Where is Boston tilicum?"
+
+"He is not here--he does not know that you are sick."
+
+"Run for him; tell him I can't go to the Missouri with him. I can't find
+the Black Eagle's nest. Run!"
+
+His mind was dreaming and wandering.
+
+Gretchen sent a runner to bring the schoolmaster to the dreadful scene.
+
+A convulsion passed over the boy, but he revived again.
+
+"Have faith in Heaven," said Gretchen. "There is One above that will save
+you."
+
+"One above that will save me! Are you sure?"
+
+"Yes," said Gretchen.
+
+She added:
+
+"Mother is sorry for what she said to you."
+
+"I am sorry," said the boy, pathetically.
+
+He was lost again in spasms of pain. When he revived, Marlowe Mann had
+come. The boy lifted his eyes to his beloved teacher vacantly; then the
+light of intelligence came back to them, and he knew him.
+
+"I can't go," he said. "We shall never go to the lakes of the honks
+together. Boston tilicum, I am going to die; I am going away like my
+brothers--where?"
+
+It was near the gray light of the morning, and a flock of wild geese were
+heard trumpeting in the air. The boy heard the sound, and started.
+
+"Boston tilicum!"
+
+"What can I do for you?"
+
+"Boston tilicum, listen. Do you hear? What taught the honks where to go?"
+
+"The Great Father of all."
+
+"He leads them?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He will lead me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And teach me when I am gone away. I can trust him. But my father--my
+father! Boston tilicum, he loves me, and he is old."
+
+Flock after flock of wild geese flew overhead in the dim light. The boy
+lay and listened. He seemed to have learned a lesson of faith from the
+instincts of these migratory birds. He once turned to the master and said,
+almost in Gretchen's words:
+
+"There is One above that will save me."
+
+As the morning drew nearer, the air seemed filled with a long procession
+of Canadian geese going toward the sea. The air rang with their calls. The
+poor boy seemed to think that somehow they were calling to him.
+
+There was silence at last in the air, and he turned toward Gretchen his
+strangely quiet face, and said, "Play."
+
+Gretchen raised her bow. As she did so a sharp spasm came over him. He
+lifted his hand and tried to feel of one of the feathers from the Black
+Eagle's nest. He was evidently wandering to the Falls of the Missouri. His
+hand fell. He passed into a stertorous sleep, and lay there, watched by
+the old chief and the silent tribe.
+
+Just as the light of early morn was flaming through the tall, cool, dewy
+trees, the breathing became labored, and ceased.
+
+There he lay in the rising sun, silent and dead, with the helpless chief
+standing statue-like above him, and the tribe, motionless as a picture,
+circled around him, and with Gretchen at his feet.
+
+"Make way!" said the old chief, in a deep voice.
+
+He stepped down from the platform, and walked in a kingly manner, yet with
+tottering steps, toward the forest. Gretchen followed him. He heard her
+step, but did not look around.
+
+"White girl, go back," he said; "I want to be alone."
+
+He entered the forest slowly and disappeared.
+
+Just at night he was seen coming out of the forest again. He spoke to but
+a single warrior, and only said:
+
+"Bury him as the white men bury; open the blanket of the earth; and
+command the tribe to be there--to-morrow at sundown. Take them all away--I
+will watch. Where is the white girl?"
+
+"She has gone home," said the Indian.
+
+"Then I will watch alone. Take them all away--I want to be alone. It is
+the last night of the chief of the Umatillas. It is the last watch of the
+stars. My blood is cold, my heart beats slow--it will not be long!"
+
+The chief sat all night by the body. In the morning he went to his lodge,
+and the tribe made the preparations for the funeral, and opened a grave in
+the earth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A SILENT TRIBE.
+
+
+It was sunset on the bluffs and valleys of the Columbia. Through the tall,
+dark pines and firs the red west glowed like the lights in an oriel or
+mullioned window. The air was voiceless. The Columbia rolled silently in
+the shadows with a shimmering of crimson on its deep middle tides. The
+long, brown boats of the salmon-fishers sat motionless on the tide. Among
+the craft of the fishermen glided a long, airy canoe, with swift paddles.
+It contained an old Umatilla Indian, his daughter, and a young warrior.
+The party were going to the young chief's funeral.
+
+[Illustration: _Multnomah Falls._]
+
+As the canoe glided on amid the still fishermen of other tribes, the
+Indian maiden began to sing. It was a strange song, of immortality, and of
+spiritual horizons beyond the visible life. The Umatillas have poetic
+minds. To them white Tacoma with her gushing streams means a mother's
+breast, and the streams themselves, like the Falls of the distant
+Shoshone, were "falling splendors."
+
+She sang in Chinook, and the burden of her song was that horizons will
+lift forever in the unknown future. The Chinook word _tamala_ means
+"to-morrow"; and to-morrow, to the Indian mind, was eternal life.
+
+The young warrior joined in the refrain, and the old Indian listened. The
+thought of the song was something as follows:
+
+    "Aha! it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow--
+       Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;
+     Lift thine eye to the mount; to the wave give thy sorrow;
+     The river is bright, and the rivulets flow;
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+               Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "Happy boat, it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow--
+       Tamala, whisper the waves as they flow;
+     The crags of the sunset the smiles of light borrow,
+       And soft from the ocean the Chinook winds blow:
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+               Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "Aha! the night comes, but the light is to-morrow--
+       Tamala, tamala, sing as we go;
+     The waves ripple past, like the heart-beats of sorrow,
+      And the oar beats the wave to our song as we row:
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+              Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "For ever and ever horizons are lifting--
+      Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;
+     And life toward the stars of the ocean is drifting,
+      Through death will the morrow all endlessly glow--
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go,
+                        Tamala! tamala!"
+
+The paddle dipped in the wave at the word _tamala_, and lifted high to
+mark the measure of the song, and strew in the warm, soft air the watery
+jewels colored by the far fires of the Sound. So the boat swept on, like a
+spirit bark, and the beautiful word of immortality was echoed from the
+darkening bluffs and the primitive pine cathedrals.
+
+The place where the grave had been made was on the borders of the Oregon
+desert, a wild, open region, walled with tremendous forests, and spreading
+out in the red sunset like a sea. It had a scanty vegetation, but a slight
+rain would sometimes change it into a billowy plain of flowers.
+
+The tribe had begun to assemble about the grave early in the long
+afternoon. They came one by one, solitary and silent, wrapped in blankets
+and ornamented with gray plumes. The warriors came in the same solitary
+way and met in silence, and stood in a long row like an army of shadows.
+Squaws came, leading children by the hand, and seated themselves on the
+soft earth in the same stoical silence that had marked the bearing of the
+braves.
+
+A circle of lofty firs, some three hundred feet high, threw a slanting
+shadow over the open grave, the tops gleaming with sunset fire.
+
+Afar, Mount Hood, the dead volcano, lifted its roof of glaciers twelve
+thousand feet high. Silver ice and black carbon it was now, although in
+the long ages gone it had had a history written in flame and smoke and
+thunder. Tradition says that it sometimes, even now, rumbles and flashes
+forth in the darkness of night, then sinks into rest again, under its
+lonely ice palaces so splendid in the sunset, so weird under the moon.
+
+Just as the red disk of the sun sunk down behind this stupendous scenery,
+a low, guttural sound was uttered by Potlatch Hero, an old Indian brave,
+and it passed along the line of the shadowy braves. No one moved, but all
+eyes were turned toward the lodge of the old Umatilla chief.
+
+He was coming--slowly, with measured step; naked, except the decent
+covering of a blanket and a heroic ornament of eagle-plumes, and all
+alone.
+
+The whole tribe had now gathered, and a thousand dusky forms awaited him
+in the sunset.
+
+There was another guttural sound. Another remarkable life-picture came
+into view. It was the school in a silent procession, following the tall
+masks, out of the forest trail on to the glimmering plain, the advent of
+that new civilization before which the forest lords, once the poetic bands
+of the old Umatillas, were to disappear. Over all a solitary eagle beat
+the luminous air, and flocks of wild geese made their way, like V-letters,
+toward the Puget Sea.
+
+The school soon joined the dusky company, and the pupils stood with
+uncovered heads around their Yankee pedagogue. But the old chief came
+slowly. After each few steps he would stop, fold his arms, and seem lost
+in contemplation. These pauses were longer as he drew near the silent
+company.
+
+Except the honks of the pilots of the flocks of wild geese, there was a
+dead silence everywhere. Only eyes moved, and then furtively, toward the
+advancing chief.
+
+[Illustration: _The old chief stood stoical and silent._]
+
+He reached the grave at last by these slow movements, and stepped upon the
+earth that had been thrown out of it, and folded his arms in view of
+all. A golden star, like a lamp in the windows of heaven, hung over Mount
+Hood in the fading splendors of the twilight, and the great chief bent his
+eye upon it.
+
+Suddenly the air was rent by a wail, and a rattle of shells and drums. The
+body of Benjamin was being brought out of the lodge. It was borne on a
+bier made of poles, and covered with boughs of pine and fir and red
+mountain phlox. It was wrapped in a blanket, and strewn with odorous
+ferns. Four young braves bore it, besmeared with war-paint. They were
+followed by musicians, who beat their drums, and rattled shell instruments
+at irregular times, as they advanced. They came to the grave, lifted the
+body on its blanket from the bier of evergreens and flowers, and slowly
+lowered it. The old chief stood stoical and silent, his eye fixed on the
+star in the darkening shadows.
+
+The face of Benjamin was noble and beautiful in its death-sleep. Over it
+were two black eagle's plumes. The deep black hair lay loosely about the
+high, bronze forehead; there was an expression of benevolence in the
+compressed lips, and the helpless hands seemed like a picture as they lay
+crossed on each other.
+
+As soon as the body was laid in the earth, the old chief bent his face on
+the people. The mysterious dimness of death was in his features. His eyes
+gleamed, and his bronze lips were turning pale.
+
+"My nation, listen; 'tis my last voice. I am a Umatilla. In my youth the
+birds in the free lakes of the air were not more free. I spoke, and you
+obeyed. I have but one more command to give. Will you obey me?
+
+"You bow, and I am glad.
+
+"Listen!
+
+"My fathers were men of war. They rolled the battle-drums. I taught my
+warriors to play the pipes of peace, and sixty years have they played them
+under the great moons of the maize-fields. We were happy. I was happy.
+
+"I had seven sons. The white man's plague came; the shadow fell on six of
+them, and they went away with the storm-birds. They entered the new canoe,
+and sailed beyond us on the sea of life. They came back no more at the
+sunrisings and sun settings, at the leaf-gatherings of the spring, or the
+leaf-fallings of the autumn. They are beyond.
+
+"One son was left me--Benjamin. He was no common youth; the high spirits
+were with him, and he came to be like them, and he has gone to them now. I
+loved him. He was my eyes; he was my ears; he was my heart. When I saw his
+eyes in death, my eyes were dead; when he could hear me call his name no
+longer, my ears lost their hearing; when his young heart ceased to beat,
+my own heart was dead. All that I am lies in that grave, beside my dead
+boy.
+
+"My nation, you have always obeyed me. I have but one more command to
+make. Will you obey me?
+
+"You bow again. My life-blood is growing cold. I am about to go down into
+that grave.
+
+"One step! The clouds fly and darken, and you will see them return again,
+but not I.
+
+"Two steps! Farewell, sun and light of day. I shall see thee again, but
+not as now.
+
+"Three steps! Downward to the grave I descend to meet thee, my own dear
+boy. Adieu, my people. Adieu, hearts of faith. Farewell, ye birds of the
+air, ye mighty forests, ye sun of night, and ye marches of stars. I am
+dying.
+
+"Two steps more I will take. There he lies before me in the unfolded
+earth, the life of my life, the heart of my heart.
+
+"You have promised to obey me. I repeat it--you have promised to obey me.
+You have always done so. You must do so now. My hands are cold, my feet
+are cold, and my heart beats very slow. Three steps more, and I shall lay
+myself on the body of my boy. Hear, then, my last command; you have
+promised to obey it like brave men.
+
+"When I have taken my last three steps of life, and laid down beside the
+uncovered bed of earth beside my boy, fill up the grave forever; my breath
+will be gone; Umatilla will be no more. You must obey.
+
+"One step--look! There is fire on the mountain under the curtains of the
+night. Look, the peak flashes; it is on fire.--O Spirit of All, I come!
+One step more! Farewell, earth. Warriors, fill the grave! The black
+eagle's plumes will now rest forever."
+
+There was deep silence, broken only by the sobs of the little school. A
+warrior moved and passed round the grave, and uttered the word "Dead!" The
+braves followed him, and the whole tribe like shadows. "Dead!" "Dead!"
+passed from mouth to mouth. Then a warrior threw a handful of earth into
+the grave of the father and son. The braves followed his example, then all
+the tribe.
+
+As they were so doing, like phantoms in the dim light, Mount Saint
+Helens[D] blazed again--one volcanic flash, then another; then all was
+darkness, and the moon arose in a broad sea of light like a spectral sun.
+
+The grave was filled at last. Then they brought the Cayuse pony of
+Benjamin toward the grave, and a young brave raised the hatchet to kill
+it, that it might bear the dead boy into the unknown land.
+
+There was a cry! It came from Gretchen. The girl rushed forward and stood
+before the hatchet. The pony seemed to know her, and he put his head over
+her shoulder.
+
+"Spare him!" she said. "Benjamin gave him to me--the soul of Benjamin
+would wish it so."
+
+"Let the girl have her way," said the old warriors.
+
+The moon now moved free in the dark-blue sky, and sky, forest, and plain
+were a silver sea. The Indians began to move away like shadows, one by
+one, silent and slow. Gretchen was the last to go. She followed the
+school, leading the pony, her soul filled with that consciousness of a new
+life that had so wonderfully come to her. Her way in life now seemed
+clear: she must teach the Umatillas.
+
+She left the pony in a grassy clearing, on the trail that led to her home,
+and hurried toward the cabin to describe all the events of the day to her
+foster-mother.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote D: See Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE.
+
+
+As Gretchen was hurrying home on the evening after these exciting scenes,
+she met Mrs. Woods in the trail, and she saw at a glance that her
+foster-mother was in great distress.
+
+"O Gretchen," she said, "I am so glad that you have come--you are all that
+is left to me now! I am all alone in the world! Have you heard it,
+Gretchen?"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"Husband is drowned!"
+
+Mrs. Woods seized the arm of the girl, and the two helpless women hurried
+toward their rude home, each to relate to the other a scene of distress,
+and each to wonder what the wide future had in store for them.
+
+They held each other by the hand, and talked in the open door of the
+cabin. Then they went in and ate a simple meal of milk and berries, and
+lay down and slept the sleep of sorrow.
+
+At the early light they awoke. Almost the first words that Gretchen spoke
+were: "Let us face life and be fearless. I have faith. My father had
+faith, and my mother lived by faith. It was faith that led them across the
+sea. Their faith seemed to be unfulfilled, but it will be fulfilled in me.
+I feel it. Mother, let trouble pass. We belong to the family of God."
+
+"You are a comfort to me, Gretchen. I can not see my way--it is covered."
+
+"But you can trust your Guide, mother, and the end of trust _is_ peace."
+
+"What are we to do, Gretchen?"
+
+"I will go to Walla Walla and seek the advice of Mrs. Spaulding."
+
+"Gretchen, don't you think that the schoolmaster is a good man?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure that he is."
+
+"I am. Let us go to him and follow his advice. We will go together."
+
+They agreed to make the visit on the following day in the morning, before
+school.
+
+Gretchen told her foster-mother the story of the Indian pony.
+
+"Where is he now?" asked Mrs. Woods.
+
+"I left him in the clearing. I will go and find him."
+
+"I will go with you," said Mrs. Woods.
+
+The two went out together. They came to the clearing--a place of waving
+grass, surrounded with gigantic trees, in whose tops were great nests of
+birds. The pony was not there.
+
+"He has gone to the next clearing," said Gretchen.
+
+They passed through a strip of wood to another clearing. But the pony was
+not there.
+
+As they were returning, a little black animal crossed their path.
+
+Mrs. Woods said, "Hold!" then called out in a kindly voice, "Roll over."
+The little animal rolled head over heels in a very comical way, then ran
+quickly into the thick bushes. It was the last time that Mrs. Woods ever
+saw little Roll Over, and Gretchen never saw the pony again. The latter
+probably found a herd of horses and wandered away with them. It was a time
+of such confusion and distress that the matter did not awaken the interest
+of the Indians at that time.
+
+That evening they talked of plans for the future.
+
+"Let us seek work in one of the missionary stations," said Gretchen, "or
+let us find a home among the Indians themselves. I want to become a
+teacher among them, and I know that they would treat you well."
+
+Mrs. Woods's views on these matters were changing, but something of her
+old distrust and prejudice remained despite her good resolutions.
+
+"Foxes and geese were never made to hold conference meetings together. You
+can't make one man out of another if you try."
+
+"But, mother, your English ancestors once wandered about in sheep-skins,
+and worshiped the oaks; the whole English race, and the German race, were
+made what they are by teachers--teachers who gave themselves to a cause
+almost two thousand years ago."
+
+"Yes, I suppose that is so. But, Gretchen, I want your heart; I never
+thought that you would give it to the Injuns. I ought not to be so ruled
+by my affections; but, if I do scold you, there is something in you that
+draws my heart toward you all the time. I believe in helping others;
+something good in the future always comes of it. If men would be good to
+each other, Heaven would be good to the world. It is the things done here
+in this world that are out of order, and I never was on very good terms
+with myself even, not to say much of the world. But you have helped me,
+Gretchen, and hymns have helped me. I want you to be charitable toward my
+feelins', Gretchen, when I grow old, and I pray that you will always be
+true to me."
+
+"I shall always be true to you, whatever I may be called to do. I shall
+not leave you until you give your consent. One day you will wish me to do
+as I have planned--I feel it within me; something is leading me, and our
+hearts will soon be one in my plan of life."
+
+"It may be so, Gretchen. I have had a hard time, goin' out to service when
+I was a girl. My only happy days were during the old Methody preaching of
+Jason Lee. I thought I owned the heavens then. It was then I married, and
+I said to husband: 'Here we must always be slaves, and life will be master
+of us; let us go West, and own a free farm, and be masters of life.' There
+is a great deal in being master of life. Well, we have had a hard time,
+but husband has been good to me, and you have made me happy, if I have
+scolded. Gretchen, some people kiss each other by scoldin'; I do--I scold
+to make the world better. I suppose everything is for the best, after
+all. There is no experience in life that does not teach us something, and
+there is a better world beyond that awaits all who desire a better life.
+Our desires are better than ourselves--mine are. Good desires are prayers,
+and I think that they will all be answered some day."
+
+She sat in silence, thinking of her lonely situation, of her ignorance and
+imperfection, of her often baffled struggles to do well in this world and
+to overcome her poor, weak self, and she burst into tears.
+
+"Play," she said. "Music is a kind of prayer." And Gretchen touched the
+musical glasses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE LIFTED CLOUD--THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER.
+
+
+The next day witnessed a strange scene at the log school-house on the
+Columbia. It was a red October morning. Mrs. Woods accompanied Gretchen to
+the school, as she wished to have a talk with Mr. Mann.
+
+As the two came in sight of the house, Mrs. Woods caught Gretchen by the
+arm and said:
+
+"What's _them_?"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Sittin' in the school-yard."
+
+"They are Indians."
+
+"Injuns? What are they there for?"
+
+"I don't know, mother."
+
+"Come for advice, like me, may be."
+
+"Perhaps they are come to school. The old chief told them that I would
+teach them."
+
+"You?"
+
+"They have no father now."
+
+"No father?"
+
+"No chief."
+
+Mrs. Woods had been so overwhelmed with her own grief that she had given
+little thought to the death of Benjamin and the chief of the Cascades. The
+unhappy condition of the little tribe now came to her as in a picture;
+and, as she saw before her some fifty Indians seated on the ground, her
+good heart came back to her, and she said, touched by a sense of her own
+widowhood, "Gretchen, I pity 'em."
+
+Mrs. Woods was right. These Indians had come to seek the advice of Mr.
+Mann in regard to their tribal affairs. Gretchen also was right. They had
+come to ask Mr. Mann to teach their nation.
+
+It was an unexpected assembly that Marlowe Mann faced as he came down the
+clearing, but it revealed to him, at a glance, his future work in life.
+
+The first of the distressed people to meet him was Mrs. Woods.
+
+"O Mr. Mann, I am all alone in the world, and what am I goin' to do?
+There's nothin' but hard days' work left to me now, and--hymns. Even
+Father Lee has gone, and I have no one to advise me. You will be a friend
+to me, won't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Mann. "I need you, and the way is clear."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have a letter from Boston."
+
+"What is it, Marlowe Mann?"
+
+"The Indian Educational Society have promised me a thousand dollars for my
+work another year. I must have a house. I would want you to take charge of
+it. _But_--your tongue?"
+
+"O Master Mann, I'll give up my tongue! I'll just work, and be still. If
+an Injun will give up his revenge, an' it's his natur', ought not I to
+give up my tongue? When I can't help scoldin' I'll just sing hymns."
+
+Mr. Mann gazed into the faces of the Indians. The warm sunlight fell upon
+them. There was a long silence, broken only by the scream of the eagles in
+the sky and the passing of flocks of wild geese. Then one of the Indians
+rose and said:
+
+"Umatilla has gone to his fathers.
+
+"Benjamin has gone to his fathers. We shall never see Young Eagle's plume
+again!
+
+"Boston tilicum, be our chief. We have come to school."
+
+Mr. Mann turned to Gretchen. Her young face was lovely that morning with
+sympathy. He said in a low voice:
+
+"You see _our_ work in life. Do you understand? Will you accept it?"
+
+She understood his heart.
+
+"I will do whatever you say."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In 1859 a great Indian Reservation was established in what is known in
+Oregon as the Inland Empire of the Northwest. It contained about two
+hundred and seventy thousand acres, agricultural land and timber-land. The
+beautiful Umatilla River flows through it. The agency now is near
+Pendleton, Oregon. Thither the Umatillas were removed.
+
+Marlowe Mann went there, and Gretchen as his young wife, and in their home
+Mrs. Woods for many years could have been heard singing hymns.
+
+Their home stood for the Indian race, and the schoolmaster and his wife
+devoted themselves to the cause of Indian education. Through the silent
+influence of Mr. Mann's correspondence with the East, Indian civilization
+was promoted, and the way prepared for the peaceful settlement of the
+great Northwest.
+
+Gretchen taught the Indians as long as she lived. Often at evening, when
+the day's work had been hard, she would take her violin, and a dream of
+music would float upon the air. She played but one tune at last as she
+grew serenely old. That tune recalled her early German home, the Rhine,
+her good father and mother, and the scenes of the great Indian Potlatch on
+the Columbia. It was the _Traumerei_.
+
+Her poetic imagination, which had been suppressed by her foster-mother in
+her girlhood, came back to her in her new home, and it was her delight to
+express in verse the inspirations of her life amid these new scenes, and
+to publish these poems in the papers of the East that most sympathized
+with the cause of Indian education.
+
+The memory of Benjamin and the old chief of the Cascades never left her.
+It was a never-to-be-forgotten lesson of the nobility of all men whose
+souls have the birthright of heaven. Often, when the wild geese were
+flying overhead in the evening, she would recall Benjamin, and say, "He
+who guides led me here from the Rhine, and schooled me for my work in the
+log school-house on the Columbia."
+
+Such is not an overdrawn picture of the early pioneers of the Columbia and
+the great Northwest.
+
+Jason Lee was censured for leaving his mission for the sake of Oregon--for
+turning his face from the stars to the sun. Whitman, when he appeared
+ragged at Washington, was blamed for having left his post. The early
+pioneers of the great Northwest civilization lie in neglected graves. We
+are now beginning to see the hand of Providence, and to realize how great
+was the work that these people did for their own country and for the
+world.
+
+And Marlowe Mann--whose name stands for the Christian schoolmaster--no one
+knows where he sleeps now; perhaps no one, surely but a few. He saw his
+college-mates rise to honor and fame. They offered him positions, but he
+knew his place in the world.
+
+When his hair was turning gray, there came to him an offer of an
+opportunity for wealth, from his remaining relatives. At the same time the
+agency offered him the use of a farm. He accepted the latter for his
+work's sake, and returned to his old friends a loving letter and an old
+poem, and with the latter we will leave this picture of old times on the
+Oregon:
+
+    "Happy the man whose wish and care
+      A few paternal acres bound;
+     Content to breathe his native air
+      On his own ground.
+
+    "Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
+      Whose flocks supply him with attire;
+     Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
+      In winter, fire.
+
+    "Sound sleep by night, study and ease,
+      Together mixed sweet recreation;
+     And innocence, which most doth please,
+      With meditation.
+
+    "Blessed who can unconcernedly find
+      Hours, days, and years glide soft away,
+     In health of body, peace of mind;
+      Quiet by day.
+
+    "Thus let me live unseen, unknown;
+      Thus unlamented let me die;
+     Steal from the world, and not a stone
+      Tell where I lie."
+
+
+
+
+HISTORICAL NOTES.
+
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+VANCOUVER.
+
+
+The remarkable progress of the Pacific port cities of Seattle and Tacoma
+make Washington an especially bright, new star on the national flag.
+Surrounded as these cities are with some of the grandest and most poetic
+scenery in the United States, with gigantic forests and rich farm-lands,
+with mountains of ores, with coal-mines, iron-mines, copper-mines, and
+mines of the more precious treasures; washed as they are by the water of
+noble harbors, and smiled upon by skies of almost continuous April
+weather--there must be a great future before the cities of Puget Sound.
+
+The State of Washington is one of the youngest in the Union, and yet she
+is not too young to celebrate soon the one-hundredth anniversary of
+several interesting events.
+
+It was on the 15th of December, 1790, that Captain George Vancouver
+received his commission as commander of his Majesty's sloop of war the
+Discovery. Three of his officers were Peter Puget, Joseph Baker, and
+Joseph Whidby, whose names now live in Puget Sound--Mount Baker, and
+Whidby Island.
+
+The great island of British Columbia, and its energetic port city,
+received the name of Vancouver himself, and Vancouver named most of the
+places on Puget Sound in honor of his personal friends. He must have had a
+heart formed for friendship, thus to have immortalized those whom he
+esteemed and loved. It is the discovery and the naming of mountains,
+islands, and ports of the Puget Sound that suggest poetic and patriotic
+celebrations.
+
+The old journals of Vancouver lie before us. In these we read:
+
+"From this direction, round by the north and northwest, the high, distant
+land formed, like detached islands, among which the lofty mountains
+discovered in the afternoon by the third lieutenant, and in compliment to
+him called by me Mount Baker, rose to a very conspicuous object."
+
+It was on Monday, April 30, 1792, that Mount Baker was thus discovered
+and named. In May, 1792, Vancouver states that he came to a "very safe"
+and "capatious" harbor, and that "to this port I gave the name of Port
+Townshend, in honor of the noble marquis of that name."
+
+Again, on Thursday, May 29, 1792, Vancouver discovered another excellent
+port, and says:
+
+"This harbor, after the gentleman who discovered it, obtained the name of
+Port Orchard."
+
+In May, 1792, he makes the following very important historical note:
+
+"Thus by our joint efforts we had completely explored every turning of
+this extensive inlet; and, to commemorate Mr. Puget's exertions, the
+fourth extremity of it I named Puget Sound."
+
+A very interesting officer seems to have been this lieutenant, Peter
+Puget, whose soundings gave the name to the American Mediterranean. Once,
+after the firing of muskets to overawe hostile Indians, who merely pouted
+out their lips, and uttered, "Poo hoo! poo hoo!" he ordered the discharge
+of a heavy gun, and was amused to note the silence that followed. It was
+in April and May, 1792, that Puget explored the violet waters of the great
+inland sea, a work which he seems to have done with the enthusiasm of a
+romancer as well as of a naval officer.
+
+Mount Hood was named for Lord Hood, and Mount Saint Helens was named in
+1792, in the month of October, "in honor of his Britannic Majesty's
+ambassador at the court of Madrid." But one of the most interesting of all
+of Vancouver's notes is the following:
+
+"The weather was serene and pleasant, and the country continued to exhibit
+the same luxuriant appearance. At its northern extremity Mount Baker bore
+compass; the round, snowy mountain, now forming its southern extremity,
+after my friend Rear-Admiral Ranier, I distinguished by the name of Mount
+Ranier, May, 1792." This mountain is now Mount Tacoma.
+
+The spring of 1892 ought to be historically very interesting to the State
+of Washington, and it is likely to be so.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+THE OREGON TRAIL.
+
+
+"There is the East. There lies the road to India."
+
+Such was Senator Thomas H. Benton's view of the coast and harbors of
+Oregon. He saw the advantage of securing to the United States the
+Columbia River and its great basin, and the Puget Sea; and he made himself
+the champion of Oregon and Washington.
+
+In Thomas Jefferson's administration far-seeing people began to talk of a
+road across the continent, and a port on the Pacific. The St. Louis
+fur-traders had been making a way to the Rockies for years, and in 1810
+John Jacob Astor sent a ship around Cape Horn, to establish a post for the
+fur-trade on the Pacific Coast, and also sent an expedition of some sixty
+persons from St. Louis, overland, by the way of the Missouri and
+Yellowstone, to the Columbia River. The pioneer ship was called the
+Tonquin. She arrived at the mouth of the Columbia before the overland
+expedition. These traders came together at last, and founded Astoria, on
+the Columbia.
+
+Ships now began to sail for Astoria, and the trading-post flourished in
+the beautiful climate and amid the majestic scenery. But the English
+claimed the country. In June, 1812, war broke out with England, and
+Astoria became threatened with capture by the English. It was decided by
+Astor's agent to abandon the post; but Astoria had taught the United
+States the value of Oregon.
+
+The Oregon trail from St. Louis, by the way of the great rivers, the
+Missouri, the Yellowstone, and the Columbia, followed the fall of Astoria,
+and began the highway of emigration to the Pacific coast and to Asia. Over
+it the trapper and the missionary began to go. The Methodist missionaries,
+under the leadership of Revs. Jason and Daniel Lee, were among the first
+in the field, and laid the foundations of the early cities of Oregon. One
+of their stations was at the Dalles of the Columbia. In 1835 the great
+missionary, Marcus Whitman, of the Congregationalist Board, established
+the mission at Walla Walla. Yet up to the year 1841, just fifty years ago,
+only about one hundred and fifty Americans, in all, had permanently
+settled in Oregon and Washington.
+
+Senator Benton desired the survey of a route to Oregon, to aid emigration
+to the Columbia basin. He engaged for this service a young, handsome,
+gallant, and chivalrous officer, Lieutenant John C. Fremont, who, with
+Nicollet, a French naturalist, had been surveying the upper Mississippi,
+and opening emigration to Minnesota.
+
+Fremont espoused not only the cause of Oregon, but also Senator Benton's
+young daughter Jessie, who later rendered great personal services to her
+husband's expedition in the Northwest.
+
+Kit Carson was the guide of this famous expedition. The South Pass was
+explored, and the flag planted on what is now known as Fremont's Peak, and
+the country was found to be not the Great American Desert of the maps, but
+a land of wonderful beauty and fertility. In 1843 Fremont made a second
+expedition; this time from the South Pass to the Columbia country. After
+he was well on his way, the War Department recalled him; but Mrs. Fremont
+suppressed the order, in the interest of the expedition, until it was too
+late to reach him.
+
+Fremont went by the way of Salt Lake, struck the Oregon trail, and finally
+came to the mission that Dr. Whitman had founded among the Nez-Percés
+(pierced noses) at Walla Walla. This mission then consisted of a single
+adobe house.
+
+The British claimants of the territory, finding that American immigration
+was increasing, began to bring settlers from the Red River of the North. A
+struggle now began to determine which country should possess this vast and
+most important territory. When Dr. Whitman learned of the new efforts of
+the English to settle the country, and the danger of losing Oregon by
+treaties pending at Washington, he started for St. Louis, by the way of
+Santa Fé. This ride, often called "Whitman's Ride for Oregon," is one of
+the poetical events of American history. He went to Washington, was
+treated cavalierly by the State Department, but secured a delay of the
+treaties, which proved the means of saving Oregon and Washington to the
+United States.
+
+So his missionary efforts gave to our country an empire that seems
+destined to become ultimate America, and a power in the Asian world.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+GOVERNOR STEVENS.
+
+
+In the long line of brave American soldiers, General Isaac Ingalls Stevens
+deserves a noble rank in the march of history. He was born at Andover,
+Mass., and was educated at West Point, where he was graduated from the
+Military Academy in 1839 with the highest honors. He was on the military
+staff of General Scott in Mexico, and held other honorable positions in
+the Government service in his early life.
+
+But the great period of his life was his survey of the Northern route to
+the Pacific, since largely followed by the Northern Pacific Railroad, and
+his development of Washington Territory as a pioneer Governor. He saw the
+road to China by the way of the Puget Sea, and realized that Washington
+stood for the East of the Eastern Continent and the Western. He seems to
+have felt that here the flag would achieve her greatest destiny, and he
+entered upon his work like a knight who faced the future and not the past.
+His survey of the Northern Pacific route led the march of steam to the
+Puget Sea, and the great steamers have carried it forward to Japan, China,
+and India.
+
+His first message to the Legislature at Olympia (1854) was a map of the
+future and a prophecy. It was a call for roads, schools, a university, and
+immigration. The seal of Washington was made to bear the Indian word
+_Alké_--"by and by"--or "in the future." It also was a prophecy.
+
+He created the counties of Sawanish, Whatcom, Clallam, Chehalis, Cowlitz,
+Wahkiakum, Skamania, and Walla Walla. Olympia was fixed upon as the seat
+of government, and measures were taken by the Government for the
+regulation of the Indian tribes.
+
+Stevens was the military leader of the Indian war. He reduced the tribes
+to submission, and secured a permanent peace. He was elected to Congress
+as a Territorial delegate in 1857, and sought at Washington as earnestly
+as on the Puget Sea the interests of the rising State.
+
+He was a man of great intellect, of a forceful and magnetic presence--a
+man born to lead in great emergencies. He carried New England ideas and
+traditions to the Pacific, and established them there for all time to
+come, creating there a greater New England which should gather to its
+harbors the commerce of the world.
+
+Governor Stevens was a conservative in politics, but when the news of the
+fall of Sumter thrilled the country, he said to the people of Olympia, "I
+conceive it my duty to stop disunion." He went to Washington and entered
+the Union service.
+
+He fell like a hero at Chantilly, and under the flag which he had taken
+from his color-bearer, who had received a mortal wound. His was a splendid
+career that the nation should honor. We recently saw his sword and
+historic pictures at the home of his widow and son at Dorchester, Mass.,
+and were impressed with these relics of a spirit that had done so much for
+the progress of the country and mankind.
+
+The State of Washington is his monument, and progressive thought his
+eulogy. His great mind and energy brought order out of chaos, and set the
+flag in whose folds he died forever under the gleaming dome of the
+Colossus of American mountains and over the celestial blue of the Pacific
+harbors of the Puget Sea.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+SEATTLE THE CHIEF.
+
+
+Seattle was a Dwamish chief, and a true friend of the white race, whom he
+seemed to follow on account of their superior intelligence. He gave the
+name to an early settlement, which is now a great city, and which seems
+destined to become one of the important port cities of the world; for when
+in 1852, some forty years ago, the pioneers of Alké Point left the town
+which they had laid out and called New York, and removed to the other side
+of the bay, they named the place Seattle, from the friendly chief, instead
+of New York. Alké means _by and by_ and Seattle is likely to become the
+New York of the Pacific, and one of the great ports for Asiatic trade.
+With the immense agricultural and mineral resources with which it is
+surrounded, with its inexhaustible stores of timber, its sublime scenery
+and delightful climate, with its direct and natural water-road to Japan
+and China, and its opportunity of manufacturing for the Asiatic market the
+kind of goods that England has to carry to the same markets over an
+adventurous course of three times the distance, with the great demand for
+grain among the rice-eating countries of the East--the mind can not map
+the possibilities of this port city for the next hundred years or more.
+The prophecy of its enterprising citizens, that it will one day be one of
+the great cities in the world, is not unlikely to be realized; and it is
+interesting to ask what was the history of the chief who gave the name to
+this new Troy of the Puget Sea.
+
+He was at this time somewhat advanced in life, a portly man, of benevolent
+face, recalling the picture of Senator Benton, of Missouri, whom he was
+said to resemble. He was the chief of the Dwamishes, a small tribe
+inhabiting the territory around what is now Elliott Bay. He became a
+friend of Dr. Maynard, one of the pioneers of the new town, and of General
+Stevens, the great Territorial Governor. He was well known to Foster,
+Denny, Bell, and Borden, who took claims where the city now stands. His
+last years were passed at Port Madison, where he died in 1866, at a great
+age.
+
+Governor Stevens confirmed his sachemship, and Seattle became the
+protector and the good genius of the town. A curious legend, which seems
+to be well founded, is related of a tax which Seattle levied upon the new
+town, for the sake of the trouble that the name would give him in the
+spiritual world. When a Dwamish Indian lost a near relative of the same
+name by death, he changed his own name, because the name might attract the
+ghost of the deceased, and so cause him to be haunted. The tribe believed
+that departed spirits loved their old habitations, and the associations of
+their names and deeds, and so they changed their names and places on the
+death of relatives, that they might not be disturbed by ghostly
+apparitions.
+
+"Why do you ask for a tax?" asked a pioneer of Seattle.
+
+"The name of the town will call me back after I am dead, and make me
+unhappy. I want my pay for what I shall suffer then, now."
+
+I hope that the rapid growth of the great city of the North does not
+disquiet the gentle and benevolent soul of Seattle. The city should raise
+a monument to him, that he may see that he is kindly remembered when he
+comes back to visit the associations of his name and life. Or, better for
+his shade, the city should kindly care for his daughter, poor old Angeline
+Seattle, who at the time of this writing (1890) is a beggar in the streets
+of uplifting commercial palaces and lovely homes!
+
+We visited her in her hut outside of the city some months ago, to ask her
+if she saved Seattle in 1855, by giving information to the pioneers that
+the woods around it were full of lurking Indians, bent on a plot to
+destroy it; for there is a legend that on that shadowy December night,
+when Seattle was in peril, and the council of Indian warriors met and
+resolved to destroy the town before morning, Jim, a friendly Indian, was
+present at the conference as a spy. He found means to warn the pioneers of
+their immediate danger.
+
+The ship of war Decatur, under Captain Gansevoort, lay in the harbor. Jim,
+who had acted in the Indian council, secretly, in the interest of the
+town, had advised the chiefs to defer the attack until early in the
+morning, when the officers of the Decatur would be off their guard.
+
+[Illustration: _Middle block-house at the Cascades._]
+
+Night fell on the Puget Sea. The people went into the block-house to
+sleep, and the men of the Decatur guarded the town, taking their stations
+on shore. As the night deepened, a thousand hostile Indians crept up to
+the place and awaited the morning, when the guard should go on board the
+ship for breakfast, and the people should come out of the block-house and
+go to their houses, and "set the gun behind the door."
+
+It was on this night, according to the legend, that "Old Angeline," as she
+is now called, became the messenger that saved the inhabitants from
+destruction.
+
+The legend has been doubted; and when we asked the short, flat-faced old
+woman, as she answered our knock, if she was the daughter of the chief who
+saved Seattle, she simply said, "Chief," grinned, and made a bow. She was
+ready to accept the traditional honors of the wild legend worthy of the
+pen of a Cooper.
+
+On returning from our visit to old Angeline, we asked Hon. Henry Yesler,
+the now rich pioneer, why the princess was not better cared for by the
+people of the city. He himself had been generous to her. "Why," he said,
+"if you were to give her fifty dollars, she would give it all away before
+night!" Benevolent old Angeline! She ought to live in a palace instead of
+a hovel! Mr. Yesler doubted the local legend, but I still wished to
+believe it to be true.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+The story of "Whitman's Ride for Oregon" has been told in verse by the
+writer of this volume, as follows:
+
+WHITMAN'S RIDE FOR OREGON.
+
+I.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won!"
+      And who four thousand miles will ride
+      And climb to heaven the Great Divide,
+    And find the way to Washington,
+      Through mountain cañons, winter snows,
+      O'er streams where free the north wind blows?
+    Who, who will ride from Walla-Walla,
+      Four thousand miles, for Oregon?
+
+II.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won?
+      In youth to man I gave my all,
+      And naught is yonder mountain wall;
+    If but the will of Heaven be done,
+    It is not mine to live or die,
+      Or count the mountains low or high,
+      Or count the miles from Walla-Walla.
+    I, I will ride for Oregon!"
+      'Twas thus that Whitman made reply.
+
+III.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won?
+      Bring me my Cayuse pony, then,
+      And I will thread old ways again,
+     Beneath the gray skies' crystal sun.
+     'Twas on those altars of the air
+      I raised the flag, and saw below
+      The measureless Columbia flow;
+     The Bible oped, and bowed in prayer,
+      And gave myself to God anew,
+     And felt my spirit newly born;
+      And to my mission I'll be true,
+     And from the vale of Walla-Walla
+      I'll ride again for Oregon.
+
+IV.
+
+    "I'm not my own; myself I've given,
+      To bear to savage hordes the Word;
+     If on the altars of the heaven
+      I'm called to die, it is the Lord.
+     The herald may not wait or choose,
+      'Tis his the summons to obey;
+     To do his best, or gain or lose,
+      To seek the Guide and not the way.
+     He must not miss the cross, and I
+      Have ceased to think of life or death;
+    My ark I've builded--heaven is nigh,
+      And earth is but a morning's breath!
+     Go, then, my Cayuse pony bring;
+      The hopes that seek myself are gone,
+     And from the vale of Walla-Walla
+      I'll ride again for Oregon."
+
+V.
+
+    He disappeared, as not his own,
+      He heard the warning ice winds sigh;
+    The smoky sun-flames o'er him shone,
+      On whitened altars of the sky,
+    As up the mountain-sides he rose;
+      The wandering eagle round him wheeled,
+    The partridge fled, the gentle roes,
+      And oft his Cayuse pony reeled
+    Upon some dizzy crag, and gazed
+      Down cloudy chasms, falling storms,
+    While higher yet the peaks upraised
+      Against the winds their giant forms.
+    On, on and on, past Idaho,
+      On past the mighty Saline sea,
+    His covering at night the snow,
+      His only sentinel a tree.
+    On, past Portneuf's basaltic heights,
+      On where the San Juan Mountains lay,
+    Through sunless days and starless nights,
+      Toward Taos and far Sante Fé.
+    O'er table-lands of sleet and hail,
+      Through pine-roofed gorges, cañons cold,
+    Now fording streams incased in mail
+      Of ice, like Alpine knights of old,
+    Still on, and on, forgetful on,
+      Till far behind lay Walla-Walla,
+    And far the fields of Oregon.
+
+VI.
+
+     The winter deepened, sharper grew
+      The hail and sleet, the frost and snow;
+     Not e'en the eagle o'er him new,
+      And scarce the partridge's wing below.
+     The land became a long white sea,
+      And then a deep with scarce a coast;
+     The stars refused their light, till he
+      Was in the wildering mazes lost.
+     He droppèd rein, his stiffened hand
+      Was like a statue's hand of clay!
+    "My trusty beast, 'tis the command;
+      Go on, I leave to thee the way.
+     I must go on, I must go on,
+      Whatever lot may fall to me,
+     On, 'tis for others' sake I ride--
+      For others I may never see,
+     And dare thy clouds, O Great Divide,
+      Not for myself, O Walla-Walla,
+     Not for myself, O Washington,
+     But for thy future, Oregon."
+
+VII.
+
+    And on and on the dumb beast pressed
+      Uncertain, and without a guide,
+    And found the mountain's curves of rest
+      And sheltered ways of the Divide.
+    His feet grew firm, he found the way
+      With storm-beat limbs and frozen breath,
+    As keen his instincts to obey
+      As was his master's eye of faith--
+    Still on and on, still on and on,
+      And far and far grew Walla-Walla,
+    And far the fields of Oregon.
+
+VIII.
+
+     That spring, a man with frozen feet
+      Came to the marble halls of state,
+     And told his mission but to meet
+      The chill of scorn, the scoff of hate.
+    "Is Oregon worth saving?" asked
+      The treaty-makers from the coast;
+     And him the Church with questions tasked,
+      And said, "Why did you leave your post?"
+    Was it for this that he had braved
+      The warring storms of mount and sky?
+    Yes!--yet that empire he had saved,
+      And to his post went back to die--
+    Went back to die for others' sake,
+      Went back to die from Washington,
+    Went back to die for Walla-Walla,
+      For Idaho and Oregon.
+
+IX.
+
+    At fair Walla-Walla one may see
+     The city of the Western North,
+    And near it graves unmarked there be
+      That cover souls of royal worth;
+    The flag waves o'er them in the sky
+      Beneath whose stars are cities born,
+    And round them mountain-castled lie
+      The hundred states of Oregon.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+MOUNT SAINT HELENS.
+
+
+We refer to the snowy range to the west, which terminates in the great
+dome that now bears that name. There was once a great lava-flood in the
+Northwest, and Mount Hood, Mount Adams, Mount Saint Helens, and Mount
+Tacoma (Rainier) are but great ash-heaps that were left by the stupendous
+event.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Log School-House on the Columbia, by
+Hezekiah Butterworth</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Log School-House on the Columbia</p>
+<p>Author: Hezekiah Butterworth</p>
+<p>Release Date: February 2, 2005  [eBook #14881]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Emmy and Ben Beasley, Audrey Longhurst,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE</h1>
+<h1>LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON</h1>
+<h1>THE COLUMBIA</h1>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/cover.jpg"><img src="./images/cover-tb.jpg" alt="Traumerei, by Robert Schumann, simplified by F. Brandeis." title="Traumerei, by Robert Schumann, simplified by F. Brandeis." /></a></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>A TALE OF THE PIONEERS OF THE
+GREAT NORTHWEST</i></p>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH</h2>
+
+<p class="center">AUTHOR OF THE ZIGZAG BOOKS</p>
+
+<p class="center">ILLUSTRATED</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/emblem.jpg" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h6>New York<br />
+D. Appleton and Company</h6>
+
+<p class="center">1890</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="Gretchen_at_the_Potlatch_Feast" id="Gretchen_at_the_Potlatch_Feast" /><a href="./images/1.jpg"><img src="./images/1-tb.jpg" alt="Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast." title="Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast.</i></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A year or more ago one of the librarians in charge of the young people's
+books in the Boston Public Library called my attention to the fact that
+there were few books of popular information in regard to the pioneers of
+the great Northwest. The librarian suggested that I should write a story
+that would give a view of the heroic lives of the pioneers of Oregon and
+Washington.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after this interview I met a distinguished educator who had lately
+returned from the Columbia River, who told me the legend of the old chief
+who died of grief in the grave of his son, somewhat in the manner
+described in this volume. The legend had those incidental qualities that
+haunt a susceptible imagination, and it was told to me in such a dramatic
+way that I could not put it out of my mind.</p>
+
+<p>A few weeks after hearing this haunting legend I went over the Rocky
+Mountains by the Canadian Pacific Railway, and visited the Columbia River
+and the scenes associated with the Indian story. I met in Washington,
+Yesler, Denney, and Hon. Elwood Evans, the historian; visited the daughter
+of Seattle, the chief, &quot;Old Angeline&quot;; and gathered original stories in
+regard to the pioneers of the Puget Sound country from many sources. In
+this atmosphere the legend grew upon me, and the outgrowth of it is this
+volume, which, amid a busy life of editorial and other work, has forced
+itself upon my experience.</p>
+
+<p> <span style="margin-right: 2em;">H.B.</span><br />
+
+<span style="margin-right: 2em;">28 WORCESTER STREET, BOSTON, <i>July 4, 1890</i>.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="center"><table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER</td>
+<td></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>I.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>II.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>III.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>"BOSTON TILICUM"</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>IV.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR, LITTLE "ROLL OVER"</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>V.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>VI.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE MOUNTAIN LION</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>VII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE "SMOKE-TALK"</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>VIII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST OF THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>IX.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>X.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE "ROLL OVER" AGAIN</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>XI.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>XII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>XIII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>A WARNING</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>XIV.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE POTLATCH</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>XV.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>XVI.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>A SILENT TRIBE</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>XVII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>XVIII.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>THE LIFTED CLOUD--THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>HISTORICAL NOTES.</h2>
+
+<div class="center"><table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Historical Notes">
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#VANCOUVER"><b>I.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>Vancouver</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#THE_OREGON_TRAIL"><b>II.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>The Oregon Trail</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#GOVERNOR_STEVENS"><b>III.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>Governor Stevens</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#SEATTLE_THE_CHIEF"><b>IV.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>Seattle the Chief</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#RIDE_FOR_OREGON"><b>V.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>Whitman's Ride for Oregon</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='right'><a href="#MOUNT_SAINT_HELENS"><b>VI.</b></a></td>
+<td align='left'>Mount Saint Helens</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
+
+<div class="center"><table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Historical Notes">
+
+<tr><td align='right'></td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr>
+
+
+<tr><td align='left'>Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast</td>
+<td align='left'><i>E.J. Austen</i></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Gretchen_at_the_Potlatch_Feast"><b><i>Frontispiece</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Indians_spearing_fish"><b><i>16</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>&quot;Here were mountains grander than Olympus.&quot;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma</span></td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#The_North_Puyallup"><b><i>28</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods <br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">appeared at the door of the cabin.</span></td>
+<td align='left'><i>A.E. Pope</i></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#In_the_midst_of_this_interview"><b><i>72</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, <br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and the flag streamed after him in his talon</span></td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#The_eagle_soared_away"><b><i>84</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>The Mountain Lion</td>
+<td align='left'><i>D. Carter Beard</i></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#The_mountain_lion"><b><i>92</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>An Indian village on the Columbia</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#An_Indian_village"><b><i>130</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>Afar Loomed Mount Hood</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Afar_loomed_Mount_Hood"><b><i>135</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#A_castellated_crag_arose"><b><i>142</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>At the Cascades of the Columbia</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#At_the_Cascades_of_the_Columbia"><b><i>183</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>Multnomah Falls in earlier years</td>
+<td align='left'><i>Redrawn by Walter C. Greenough</i></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Multnomah_Falls"><b><i>205</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>The old chief stood stoical and silent.</td>
+<td align='left'><i>E.J. Austen</i></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#The_old_chief_stood"><b><i>209</i></b></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align='left'>Middle block-house at the Cascades</td>
+<td align='left'></td>
+<td align='right'><a href="#Middle_block"><b><i>242</i></b></a></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>An elderly woman and a German girl were walking along the old Indian trail
+that led from the northern mountains to the Columbia River. The river was
+at this time commonly called the Oregon, as in Bryant's poem:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">&quot;Where rolls the Oregon,<br /></span>
+<span>And no sound is heard save its own dashings.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The girl had a light figure, a fair, open face, and a high forehead with
+width in the region of ideality, and she carried under her arm a long
+black case in which was a violin. The woman had lived in one of the
+valleys of the Oregon for several years, but the German girl had recently
+arrived in one of the colonies that had lately come to the territory
+under the missionary agency of the Rev. Jason Lee.</p>
+
+<p>There came a break in the tall, cool pines that lined the trail and that
+covered the path with glimmering shadows. Through the opening the high
+summits of Mount St. Helens glittered like a city of pearl, far, far away
+in the clear, bright air. The girl's blue eyes opened wide, and her feet
+stumbled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, there you go again down in the hollow! Haven't you any eyes? I
+would think you had by the looks of them. Well, Gretchen, they were placed
+right in the front of your head so as to look forward; they would have
+been put in the top of your head if it had been meant that you should look
+up to the sky in that way. What is it you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother, I wish I was&mdash;an author.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An author! What put that into your simple head? You meant to say you
+would like to be a poet, but you didn't dare to, because you know I don't
+approve of such things. People who get such flighty ideas into their loose
+minds always find the world full of hollows. No, Gretchen, I am willing
+you should play on the violin, though some of the Methody do not approve
+of that; and that you should finger the musical glasses in the
+evening&mdash;they have a religious sound and soothe me, like; but the reading
+of poetry and novels I never did countenance, except Methody hymns and the
+'Fool of Quality,' and as for the writing of poetry, it is a Boston notion
+and an ornary habit. Nature is all full of poetry out here, and what this
+country needs is pioneers, not poets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There came into view another opening among the pines as the two went on.
+The sun was ascending a cloudless sky, and far away in the cerulean arch
+of glimmering splendors the crystal peaks and domes of St. Helens appeared
+again.</p>
+
+<p>The girl stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What now?&quot; said the woman, testily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look&mdash;yonder!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look yonder&mdash;what for? That's nothing but a mountain, a great waste of
+land all piled up to the sky, and covered with a lot of ice and snow. I
+don't see what they were made for, any way&mdash;just to make people go round,
+I suppose, so that the world will not be too easy for them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother, I do not see how you can feel so out here! I never dreamed of
+anything so beautiful!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Feel so out here! What do you mean? Haven't I always been good to you?
+Didn't I give you a good home in Lynn after your father and mother died?
+Wasn't I a mother to you? Didn't I nurse you through the fever? Didn't I
+send for you to come way out here with the immigrants, and did you ever
+find a better friend in the world than I have been to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, mother, but&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And don't I let you play the violin, which the Methody elder didn't much
+approve of?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, mother, you have always been good to me, and I love you more than
+anybody else on earth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There swept into view a wild valley of giant trees, and rose clear above
+it, a scene of overwhelming magnificence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother, I can hardly look at it&mdash;isn't it splendid? It makes me feel
+like crying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The practical, resolute woman was about to say, &quot;Well, look the other way
+then,&quot; but she checked the rude words. The girl had told her that she
+loved her more than any one else in the world, and the confession had
+touched her heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Gretchen, that mountain used to make me feel so sometimes when I
+first came out here. I always thought that the mountains would look
+<i>peakeder</i> than they do. I didn't think that they would take up so much
+of the land. I suppose that they are all well enough in their way, but a
+pioneer woman has no time for sentiments, except hymns. I don't feel like
+you now, and I don't think that I ever did. I couldn't learn to play the
+violin and the musical glasses if I were to try, and I am sure that I
+should never go out into the woodshed to try to rhyme <i>sun</i> with <i>fun</i>;
+no, Gretchen, all such follies as these I should <i>shun</i>. What difference
+does it make whether a word rhymes with one word or another?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To the eye of the poetic and musical German girl the dead volcano, with
+its green base and frozen rivers and dark, glimmering lines of carbon,
+seemed like a fairy tale, a celestial vision, an ascent to some city of
+crystal and pearl in the sky. To her foster mother the stupendous scene
+was merely a worthless waste, as to Wordsworth's unspiritual wanderer:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;A primrose by the river's brim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A yellow primrose was to him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And it was nothing more.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She was secretly pleased at Gretchen's wonder and surprise at the new
+country, but somehow she felt it her duty to talk querulously, and to
+check the flow of the girl's emotions, which she did much to excite. Her
+own life had been so circumscribed and hard that the day seemed to be too
+bright to be speaking the truth. She peered into the sky for a cloud, but
+there was none, on this dazzling Oregon morning. The trail now opened for
+a long way before the eyes of the travelers. Far ahead gleamed the
+pellucid waters of the Columbia, or Oregon. Half-way between them and the
+broad, rolling river a dark, tall figure appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen, look! There goes the Yankee schoolmaster. Came way out here
+over the mountains to teach the people of the wilderness, and all for
+nothing, too. That shows that people have souls&mdash;some people have. Walk
+right along beside me, proper-like. You needn't ever tell any one that I
+ain't your true mother. If I ain't ashamed of you, you needn't be ashamed
+of me. I wish that you were my own girl, now that you have said that you
+love me more than anybody else in the world. That remark kind o' touched
+me. I know that I sometimes talk hard, but I mean well, and I have to tell
+you the plain truth so as to do my duty by you, and then I won't have
+anything to reflect upon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just look at him! Straight as an arrow! They say that his folks are
+rich. Come out here way over the mountains, and is just going to teach
+school in a log school-house&mdash;all made of logs and sods and mud-plaster,
+adobe they call it&mdash;a graduate of Harvard College, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A long, dark object appeared in the trees covered with bark and moss.
+Behind these trees was a waterfall, over which hung the crowns of pines.
+The sunlight sifted through the odorous canopy, and fell upon the strange,
+dark object that lay across the branching limbs of two ancient trees.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen stopped again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, what is that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A grave&mdash;an Indian grave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Indians bury their dead in the trees out here, or used to do so. A
+brown hawk arose from the mossy coffin and winged its way wildly into the
+sunny heights of the air. It had made its nest on the covering of the
+body. These new scenes were all very strange to the young German girl.</p>
+
+<p>The trail was bordered with young ferns; wild violets lay in beds of
+purple along the running streams, and the mountain phlox with its kindling
+buds carpeted the shelving ways under the murmuring pines. The woman and
+girl came at last to a wild, open space; before them rolled the Oregon,
+beyond it stretched a great treeless plain, and over it towered a gigantic
+mountain, in whose crown, like a jewel, shone a resplendent glacier.</p>
+
+<p>Just before them, on the bluffs of the river, under three gigantic
+evergreens, each of which was more than two hundred feet high, stood an
+odd structure of logs and sods, which the builders called the Sod
+School-house. It was not a sod school-house in the sense in which the term
+has been applied to more recent structures in the treeless prairie
+districts of certain mid-ocean States; it was rudely framed of pine, and
+was furnished with a pine desk and benches.</p>
+
+<p>Along the river lay a plateau full of flowers, birds, and butterflies, and
+over the great river and flowering plain the clear air glimmered. Like
+some sun-god's abode in the shadow of ages, St. Helens still lifted her
+silver tents in the far sky. Eagles and mountain birds wheeled, shrieking
+joyously, here and there. Below the bluffs the silent salmon-fishers
+awaited their prey, and down the river with paddles apeak drifted the bark
+canoes of Cayuses and Umatillas.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="Indians_spearing_fish" id="Indians_spearing_fish" /><a href="./images/16.jpg"><img src="./images/16-tb.jpg" alt="Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls." title="Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>A group of children were gathered about the open door of the new
+school-house, and among them rose the tall form of Marlowe Mann, the
+Yankee schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>He had come over the mountains some years before in the early expeditions
+organized and directed by Dr. Marcus Whitman, of the American Board of
+Missions. Whether the mission to the Cayuses and Walla Wallas, which Dr.
+Whitman established on the bend of the Columbia, was then regarded as a
+home or foreign field of work, we can not say. The doctor's solitary ride
+of four thousand miles, in order to save the great Northwest territory to
+the United States, is one of the most poetic and dramatic episodes of
+American history. It has proved to be worth to our country more than all
+the money that has been given to missionary enterprises. Should the Puget
+Sound cities become the great ports of Asia, and the ships of commerce
+drift from Seattle and Tacoma over the Japan current to the Flowery Isles
+and China; should the lumber, coal, minerals, and wheat-fields of
+Washington, Oregon, Montana, and Idaho at last compel these cities to
+rival New York and Boston, the populous empire will owe to the patriotic
+missionary zeal of Dr. Whitman a debt which it can only pay in honor and
+love. Dr. Whitman was murdered by the Indians soon after the settlement of
+the Walla Walla country by the pioneers from the Eastern States.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann's inspiration to become a missionary pioneer on the Oregon had
+been derived from a Boston schoolmaster whose name also the Northwest
+should honor. An inspired soul with a prophet's vision usually goes before
+the great movements of life; solitary men summon the march of progress,
+then decrease while others increase. Hall J. Kelley was a teacher of the
+olden time, well known in Boston almost a century ago. He became possessed
+with the idea that Oregon was destined to become a great empire. He
+collected all possible information about the territory, and organized
+emigration schemes, the first of which started from St. Louis in 1828, and
+failed. He talked of Oregon continually. The subject haunted him day and
+night. It was he who inspired Rev. Jason Lee, the pioneer of the
+Willamette Valley. Lee interested Senator Linn, of Missouri, in Oregon,
+and this senator, on December 11, 1838, introduced the bill into Congress
+which organized the Territory.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the richly endowed new schools of Oregon would honor history by a
+monumental recognition of the name of Hall J. Kelley, the old
+schoolmaster, whose dreams were of the Columbia, and who inspired some of
+his pupils to become resolute pioneers. Boston was always a friend to
+Washington and Oregon. Where the old schoolmaster now rests we do not
+know. Probably in a neglected grave amid the briers and mosses of some old
+cemetery on the Atlantic coast.</p>
+
+<p>When Marlowe Mann came to the Northwest he found the Indian tribes unquiet
+and suspicious of the new settlements. One of the pioneers had caused a
+sickness among some thievish Indians by putting emetic poison in
+watermelons. The Indians believed these melons to have been conjured by
+the white doctor, and when other sickness came among them, they attributed
+it to the same cause. The massacre at Wa&uuml;laptu and the murder of Whitman
+grew in part out of these events.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann settled near the old Chief of the Cascades. He sought the Indian
+friendship of this chief, and asked him for his protection.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;People fulfill the expectation of the trust put in them&mdash;Indians as well
+as children,&quot; he used to say. &quot;A boy fulfills the ideals of his
+mother&mdash;what the mother believes the boy will be, that he will become.
+Treat a thief as though he were honest, and he will be honest with you. We
+help people to be better by believing in what is good in them. I am going
+to trust the friendship of the old Chief of the Cascades, and he will
+never betray it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was summer, and there was to be a great Indian Potlatch feast under the
+autumn moon. The Potlatch is a feast of gifts. It is usually a peaceful
+gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances; but it bodes
+war and massacre and danger if it end with the dance of the evil spirits,
+or the devil dance, as it has been known&mdash;a dance which the English
+Government has recently forbidden among the Northwestern tribes.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians were demanding that the great fall Potlatch should end with
+this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of blood. The white people
+everywhere were disturbed by these reports, for they feared what might be
+the secret intent of this wild revel. The settlers all regarded with
+apprehension the October moon.</p>
+
+<p>The tall schoolmaster watched the approach of Mrs. Woods and Gretchen with
+a curious interest. The coming of a pupil with no books and a violin was
+something unexpected. He stepped forward with a courtly grace and greeted
+them most politely, for wherever Marlowe Mann might be, he never forgot
+that he was a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is my gal what I have brought to be educated,&quot; said Mrs. Woods,
+proudly. &quot;They think a great deal of education up around Boston where I
+came from. Where did you come from?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From Boston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I have been told&mdash;from Harvard College. Can I speak with you a minute
+in private?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, madam. Step aside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you are kinder surprised that I let my gal there, Gretchen,
+bring her violin with her; but I have a secret to tell ye. Gretchen is a
+kind of a poet, makes rhymes, she does; makes <i>fool</i> rhyme with <i>school</i>,
+and such things as that. Now, I don't take any interest in such things.
+But she does play the violin beautiful. Learned of a German teacher. Now,
+do you want to know why I let her bring her violin? Well, I thought it
+might <i>help</i> you. You've got a hard lot of scholars to deal with out here,
+and there are Injuns around, too, and one never knows what they may do.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, schoolmaster, you never heard nothin' like that violin. It isn't no
+evil spirit that is in Gretchen's violin; it's an angel. I first noticed
+it one day when husband and I had been havin' some words. We have words
+sometimes. I have a lively mind, and know how to use words when I am
+opposed. Well, one day when husband and I had been havin' words, which we
+shouldn't, seein' we are Methody, Gretchen began to cry, and went and got
+her violin, and began to play just like a bird. And my high temper all
+melted away, and my mind went back to the old farm in New England, and I
+declare, schoolmaster, I just threw my apron over my head and began to
+cry, and I told Gretchen never to play that tune again when I was talking
+to husband for his good.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, one day there came a lot of Injuns to the house and demanded
+fire-water. I am Methody, and don't keep any such things in the house.
+Husband is a sober, honest man. Now, I've always noticed that an Injun is
+a coward, and I think the best way to get along with Injuns is to appear
+not to fear them. So I ordered the stragglers away, when one of them swung
+his tommyhawk about my head, and the others threatened to kill me. How my
+heart did beat! Gretchen began to cry; then she ran all at once for her
+violin and played the very same tune, and the Injuns just stood like so
+many dumb statues and listened, and, when the tune was over, one of them
+said 'Spirits,' and they all went away like so many children.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, I thought you would like to hear my gal play between schools, and,
+if ever you should get into any trouble with your scholars or Injuns or
+anybody, just call upon Gretchen, and she will play that tune on the
+violin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What wonderful tune is it, madam?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know. I don't know one tune from another, though I do sing the
+old Methody hymns that I learned in Lynn when I am about my work. I don't
+know whether she knows or not. She learned it of a German.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad that you let her bring the instrument. I once played the violin
+myself in the orchestra of the Boston Handel and Haydn Society.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you? Then you like it. I have a word or two more to say about
+Gretchen. She's a good gal, and shows her bringing up. Teach her reading,
+writing, and figures. You needn't teach her no grammar. I could always
+talk without any grammar, in the natural way. I was a bound-girl, and
+never had much education. I have had my ups and downs in life, like all
+the rest of the world. You will do the best you can for Gretchen, won't
+you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my dear madam, and for every one. I try to make every one true to
+the best that is in them. I am glad to have Gretchen for a scholar. I will
+speak to her by and by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How strange was the scene to Gretchen! She remembered the winding Rhine,
+with its green hills and terraced vineyards and broken-walled castles;
+Basel and the singing of the student clubs in the gardens on summer
+evenings; the mountain-like church at Strasburg; and the old streets of
+Mayence. She recalled the legends and music of the river of song&mdash;a river
+that she had once thought to be the most beautiful on earth. But what were
+the hills of the Rhine to the scenery that pierced the blue sky around
+her, and how light seemed the river itself to the majestic flow of the
+Columbia! Yet the home-land haunted her. Would she go back again? How
+would her real parents have felt had they known that she would have found
+a home here in the wilderness? Why had Providence led her steps here? Her
+mother had been a pious Lutheran. Had she been led here to help in some
+future mission to the Indian race?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dreaming?&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;Well, I suppose it can't be helped. If a
+body has the misfortune to be kiting off to the clouds, going up like an
+eagle and coming down like a goose, it can't be helped. There are a great
+many things that can't be helped in this world, and all we can do is to
+make the best of them. Some people were born to live in the skies, and it
+makes it hard for those who have to try to live with them. Job suffered
+some things, but&mdash;I won't scold out here&mdash;I have my trials; but it may be
+they are all for the best, as the Scripture says.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>These forbearing remarks were not wholly meant for Gretchen's reproval.
+Mrs. Woods liked to have the world know that she had her trials, and she
+was pleased to find so many ears on this bright morning open to her
+experiences.</p>
+
+<p>She liked to say to Gretchen things that were meant for other ears; there
+was novelty in the indirection. She also was accustomed to quote freely
+from the Scriptures and from the Methodist hymnbook, which was almost her
+only accomplishment. She had led a simple, hard-working life in her
+girlhood; had become a follower of Jason Lee during one of the old-time
+revivals of religion; had heard of the Methodist emigration to Oregon, and
+wished to follow it. She hardly knew why. Though rough in speech and
+somewhat peculiar, she was a kind-hearted and an honest woman, and very
+industrious and resolute. Mr. Lee saw in her the spirit of a pioneer, and
+advised her to join his colony. She married Mr. Woods, went to the Dalles
+of the Columbia, and afterward to her present home upon a donation claim.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Marlowe Mann was a graduate of Harvard in the classic period of the
+college. He had many scholarly gifts, and as many noble qualities of soul
+as mental endowments. He was used to the oratory of Henry Ware and young
+Edward Everett, and had known Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips at
+college, when the Greek mind and models led the young student in his fine
+development, and made him a Pericles in his dreams.</p>
+
+<p>But the young student of this heroic training, no matter how well
+conditioned his family, usually turned from his graduation to some
+especial mission in life. &quot;I must put myself into a cause,&quot; said young
+Wendell Phillips. Charles Sumner espoused the struggle of the negro for
+freedom, and said: &quot;To this cause do I offer all I have.&quot; Marlowe Mann was
+a member of the historic Old South Church, like Phillips in his early
+years. There was an enthusiasm for missions in the churches of Boston
+then, and he began to dream of Oregon and the mysterious empire of the
+great Northwest, as pictured by the old schoolmaster, Kelley; just at this
+time came Dr. Whitman to the East, half frozen from his long ride, and
+asked to lead an emigration to Walla Walla, to save the Northern empire to
+the territory of the States. He heard the doctor's thrilling story of how
+he had unfurled the flag over the open Bible on the crags that looked down
+on the valleys of the Oregon, and his resolution was made. He did not
+follow Dr. Whitman on the first expedition of colonists, but joined him a
+year or two afterward. He built him a log-cabin on the Columbia, and gave
+his whole soul to teaching, missionary work among the Indians, and to
+bringing emigrants from the East.</p>
+
+<p>The country thrilled him&mdash;its magnificent scenery, the grandeur of the
+Columbia, the vastness of the territory, and the fertility of the soil.
+Here were mountains grander than Olympus, and harbors and water-courses as
+wonderful as the &AElig;gean. He was almost afraid to map the truth in his
+extensive correspondence with the East, lest it should seem so incredible
+as to defeat his purpose.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="The_North_Puyallup" id="The_North_Puyallup" /><a href="./images/28.jpg"><img src="./images/28-tb.jpg" alt="The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma." title="The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma.</i></p>
+
+<p>When the log school-house was building, Mr. Mann had gone to the old
+Chief of the Cascades and had invited him to send his Indian boy to the
+school. He had shown him what an advantage it would be to the young chief
+to understand more thoroughly Chinook and English. He was wise and politic
+in the matter as well as large-hearted, for he felt that the school might
+need the friendliness of the old chief, and in no way could it be better
+secured.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The world treats you as you treat the world,&quot; he said; &quot;and what you are
+to the world, the world is to you. Tell me only what kind of a
+neighborhood you come from, and I will tell you what kind of a
+neighborhood you are going to; we all see the world in ourselves. I will
+educate the boy, and his father will protect the school. The Indian heart
+is hot and revengeful, but it is honest and true. I intend to be honest
+with the Indians in all things, and if there should occur a dance of the
+evil spirits at the Potlatch, no harm will ever come to the log
+school-house; and I do not believe that such a dance with evil intent to
+the settlers will ever take place. Human nature is all one book
+everywhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he stood there that morning, with uncovered head, an unexpected event
+happened. The children suddenly said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look!&quot; and &quot;Umatilla!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Out of the forest came an aged Indian, of gigantic stature&mdash;Umatilla, one
+of the chiefs of the Cascades; and beside him walked his only son, the
+Light of the Eagle's Plume, or, as he had been named by the English,
+Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>Umatilla, like Massasoit, of the early colonial history of Plymouth, was a
+remarkable person. Surrounded by warlike tribes, he had been a man of
+peace. He was a lover of Nature, and every shining cloud to his eye was a
+chariot. He personified everything, like the ancient Greeks. He talked in
+poetic figures; to him the sky was alive, every event had a soul, and his
+mind had dwelt upon the great truths of Nature until he had become more of
+a philosopher than a ruler.</p>
+
+<p>He had been the father of a large family, but six of his sons had died of
+the plague, or rather of the treatment which the medicine-men had used in
+the disease, which was to sweat the victims in hot earthen ovens, and then
+plunge them into the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>His whole heart in his old age was fixed upon his only son, Benjamin. The
+two were seldom separated. To make the boy happy was the end of the old
+chief's life.</p>
+
+<p>The two approached the courtly schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;White master,&quot; said the old chief, &quot;I have brought to you the Light of
+the Eagle's Plume. He is my heart, and will be the heart of my people when
+my suns are all passed over and my stars gone out. Will you teach him to
+be a good chief? I want him to know English, and how to worship the Master
+of Life. Will you take him to your school lodge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tall master bowed low, and took the Indian boy by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was a princely youth. His figure would have held the eye of a
+sculptor in long admiration. The chisel of a Phidias could hardly have
+exceeded such a form. His features were like the Roman, his eye quick and
+lustrous, and his lips noble and kindly. He wore a blanket over his
+shoulders, gathered in a long sash, ornamented with shells, about his
+loins, and a crest of eagle plumes and shells on his head indicated his
+rank and dignity. He could speak some words of Chinook, and English
+imperfectly. He had mingled much with the officers of the Hudson Bay
+Company, and so had learned many of the customs of civilization.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am honored,&quot; said the courtly, tall schoolmaster, &quot;in having such a
+youth for my pupil. Chief of the Umatillas, I thank thee. All that is good
+in me will I give to your noble boy. I live with my eye upon the future;
+the work of my life is to lead people to follow their better natures and
+to be true to their best selves. There is a good angel in all men
+here&quot;&mdash;he put his hand on his heart&mdash;&quot;it leads men away from evil; it
+seeks the way of life; its end is yonder with the Infinite. Chief of the
+Umatillas, I will try to teach the young man to follow it. Do you
+understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The aged chief bowed. He caught the meaning of the thought, if not of the
+rather formal words. He comprehended the idea that the tall schoolmaster
+believed goodness to be immortal. The regions of the Cascades were indeed
+beautiful with their ancient forests and gleaming mountain walls, but he
+had been taught to believe that the great Master of Life had provided
+eternal scenes that transcended these for those who were worthy to receive
+them.</p>
+
+<p>An unexpected turn came to this stately and pacific interview. Mrs. Woods
+was piqued at the deference that the tall schoolmaster had shown to the
+chief and his son. She walked about restlessly, cut a rod from one of the
+trees with a large knife which she always carried with her, and at last
+called the master aside again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, mister, here. You ain't going to take that young Injun into your
+school, are you? There'll be trouble, now, if you do. Know Injuns&mdash;you
+don't. You are young, but 'tain't best for you to eat all your apples
+green. I've always been very particular about the company I keep, if I was
+born poor and have had to work hard, and never studied no foreign
+languages. I warn you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She raised her voice, and Benjamin heard what she had said. He suspected
+her ill-will toward him from her manner, but he comprehended the meaning
+of her last words.</p>
+
+<p>He at first looked puzzled and grieved, then suddenly his thin lips were
+pressed together; the passion of anger was possessing him, soon to be
+followed by the purpose of revenge.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods saw that she had gone too far in the matter, and that her
+spirit and meaning had been discovered by the son of the chief. The danger
+to which she had exposed herself made her nervous. But she began to act on
+her old principle never to show fear in the presence of an Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, mister, I must go now,&quot; she said, in a loud voice. &quot;Take this rod,
+and govern your school like a man. If I were a teacher, I'd make my
+scholars smart in more ways than one.&quot; She held out the rod to the master.</p>
+
+<p>There was a movement in the air like a flash. Benjamin, with noiseless
+feet, had slipped up behind her. He had conceived the idea that the offer
+of the rod somehow meant enmity to him. He seized the rod from behind the
+woman, and, sweeping it through the air, with kindled eye and glowing
+cheeks, wheeled before the master.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, don't you dare!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum&quot; was the Chinook for an American, and the Chinook or trade
+language had become common to all the tribes on the Columbia. The early
+American traders on the Northern Pacific coast were from Boston.</p>
+
+<p>He raised the rod aloft defiantly like a young champion, and presented a
+heroic figure, which excited the tremulous admiration and wonder of the
+little group. He then pointed it toward Mrs. Woods, and said
+contemptuously in Chinook:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cloochman!&quot; (woman).</p>
+
+<p>The scene changed to the comical. Mrs. Woods snatched off her broad
+sun-bonnet, revealing her gray hair, and assumed an appearance of
+defiance, though her heart was really trembling with fear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ain't afraid of no Injuns,&quot; she said, &quot;and I don't take any impudence
+from anybody. I've had to fight the whole world all my life, and I've
+always conquered. There&mdash;now&mdash;there!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She whipped the rod out of the young Indian's hand.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin's eyes blazed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Closche nanitch&quot; (look out), he said. &quot;I am an Umatilla. Siwash (Indian)
+will remember. There are hawks in the sky.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kamooks&quot; (dog), returned Mrs. Woods, defiantly. &quot;Kamooks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She would have said &quot;cultus&quot; had she dared. &quot;Cultus&quot; is the most insulting
+word that can be applied to an Indian, and, when it is used, it invites
+the most deadly revenge. The word had come to her lips, but she had not
+the courage to invoke the consequences of such a taunt.</p>
+
+<p>But the young Indian further excited her. He shook the rod at her, and her
+passion mastered her prudence. She struggled with herself, and was silent
+for a few moments. But, suddenly catching the young Indian's eye, which
+had in it a savage triumph, she exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cultus Umatilla&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief stepped forward and lifted his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pil-pil&quot; (blood), said Benjamin. &quot;There are hawks in the air&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be still!&quot; said the chief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;&mdash;they whet their beaks,&quot; continued Benjamin. &quot;Potlatch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The whole company were filled with excitement or terror. Gretchen
+trembled, and began to cry. Three Indians were seen coming down the trail,
+and the sight seemed to fill Benjamin with a mysterious delight. Mrs.
+Woods saw them with secret fear, and the master with apprehension. Several
+of the children began to cry, and there was a look of pain, terror, or
+distress on all the faces.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Gretchen stepped apart from the group and lifted to her shoulder
+her violin.</p>
+
+<p>A hunting strain rose on the bright morning air. It seemed like the flight
+of a singing bird.</p>
+
+<p>The chief's arms dropped. The music arose like a sweet memory of all that
+is good and beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>The three Indians stopped to listen. The music became more sweet and
+entrancing. The anger went out of Benjamin's face, and there came better
+feelings into his soul.</p>
+
+<p>The music breathed of the Rhine, of vineyards and festivals, but he
+understood it not; to him it recalled the mysterious legends of the
+Umatillas, the mysteries of life, and the glory of the heroes who slept
+on the island of the dead or amid the sweetly sighing branches of the
+trees. The air was the <i>Traumerei</i>.</p>
+
+<p>When the music ceased there was a long silence. In it Mrs. Woods turned
+away slowly, with a word of advice to Gretchen that under other
+circumstances would have appeared amusing:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Behave yourself like a lady,&quot; she said, &quot;and remember your bringing up.
+Good-morning to ye all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little group watched her as she moved safely away. A little black bear
+crossed her path as she was entering the wood, and stopped on the way. But
+her steps were growing rapid, and, as she did not seem to regard him as a
+matter of any consequence, he turned and ran. The company smiled, and so
+the peril of the morning seemed to pass away.</p>
+
+<p>The scene would have been comical but for the painful look in the kindly
+face of the old Chief of the Cascades. He had come toward the school-house
+with high hopes, and what had happened caused him pain. The word
+&quot;Potlatch,&quot; spoken by the Indian boy, had caused his brow to cloud and his
+face to turn dark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will all go into the house,&quot; said the master. &quot;Umatilla, will you not
+honor us with a visit this morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;me come this afternoon for the boy; me wait for him outside. Boston
+tilicum, let me speak to you a little. I am a father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and a good father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am a father&mdash;you no understand&mdash;Boston tilicum&mdash;father. I want you to
+teach him like a father&mdash;not you understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father&mdash;teacher&mdash;you, Boston tilicum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I die some day. You understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You understand, Boston tilicum, you understand. What I want my boy to
+become that I am for my boy. That you be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Umatilla, I believe an Indian's word&mdash;you may trust mine. I will be
+to your boy what you may have him become. The Indian is true to his
+friends. I believe in <i>you</i>. I will be true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief drew his blanket round him proudly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum,&quot; said he, &quot;if ever the day of trouble comes, I will
+protect you and the log school-house. You may trust my word. Indian speak
+true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tall schoolmaster bowed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nika atte cepa&quot; (I like you much), said the chief. &quot;Potlatch shall no
+harm you. Klahyam klahhye&mdash;am!&quot; (Good-by).</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods hurried homeward and tried to calm her excited mind by singing
+a very heroic old hymn:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Come on, my partners in distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My comrades in the wilderness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who still your bodies feel.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The blue skies gleamed before her, and overhead wheeled a golden eagle. To
+her it was an emblem, a good omen, and her spirit became quiet and happy
+amid all the contradictions of her rough life. She sat down at last on the
+log before her door, with the somewhat strange remark:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do hate Injuns; <i>nevertheless</i>&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was accustomed to correct the wrong tendencies of her heart and
+tongue by this word &quot;nevertheless,&quot; which she used as an incomplete
+sentence. This &quot;nevertheless&quot; seemed to express her better self; to
+correct the rude tendencies of her nature. Had she been educated in her
+early days, this tendency to self-correction would have made her an ideal
+woman, but she owed nearly all her intellectual training to the sermons of
+the Rev. Jason Lee, which she had heard in some obscure corner of a room,
+or in Methodist chapel, or under the trees.</p>
+
+<p>Her early experience with the Indians had not made her a friend to the
+native races, notwithstanding the missionary labors of the Rev. Jason Lee.
+The first Indian that made her a visit on the donation claim did not leave
+a favorable impression on her mind.</p>
+
+<p>This Indian had come to her door while she was engaged in the very hard
+work of sawing wood. He had never seen a saw before, and, as it seemed to
+him to be a part of the woman herself, he approached her with awe and
+wonder. That the saw should eat through the wood appeared to him a
+veritable miracle.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods, unaware of her visitor, paused to take breath, looked up,
+beheld the tall form with staring eyes, and started back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Medicine-woman&mdash;conjure!&quot; said the Indian, in Chinook.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was filled with terror, but a moment's thought recalled her
+resolution. She lifted her hand, and, pointing to the saw in the wood, she
+said, with a commanding tone:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Saw!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian obeyed awkwardly, and wondering at the progress of the teeth of
+the saw through the wood. It was a hot day; the poor Indian soon became
+tired, and stopped work with a beating heart and bursting veins.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Saw&mdash;saw!&quot; said Mrs. Woods, with a sweep of her hands, as though some
+mysterious fate depended upon the order.</p>
+
+<p>The saw went very hard now, for he did not know how to use it, and the
+wood was hard, and the Indian's only thought seemed to be how to escape.
+Mrs. Woods held him in her power by a kind of mental magnetism, like that
+which Queen Margaret exercised over the robber.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Water!&quot; at last gasped the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Saw&mdash;saw!&quot; said Mrs. Woods; then turned away to bring him water.</p>
+
+<p>When she looked around again, an unexpected sight met her eyes. The Indian
+was flying away, taking the saw with him. She never beheld either again,
+and it was a long time before any Indian appeared at the clearing after
+this odd event, though Mrs. Woods ultimately had many adventures among
+the wandering Siwashes.</p>
+
+<p>A saw was no common loss in these times of but few mechanical implements
+in Oregon, and Mrs. Woods did not soon forgive the Indian for taking away
+what he probably regarded as an instrument of torture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do hate Injuns!&quot; she would often say; but quite likely would soon after
+be heard singing one of the hymns of the missionaries at the Dalles:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;O'er Columbia's wide-spread forests<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haste, ye heralds of the Lamb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Teach the red man, wildly roaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Faith in Immanuel's name,&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>which, if poor poetry, was very inspiring.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>BOSTON TILICUM.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Marlowe Mann&mdash;&quot;Boston tilicum,&quot; as the Siwashes called all the
+missionaries, teachers, and traders from the East&mdash;sat down upon a bench
+of split log and leaned upon his desk, which consisted of two split logs
+in a rough frame. A curious school confronted him. His pupils numbered
+fifteen, representing Germany, England, Sweden, New England, and the
+Indian race.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The world will some day come to the Yankee schoolmaster,&quot; he used to say
+to the bowery halls of old Cambridge; and this prophecy, which had come to
+him on the banks of the Charles, seemed indeed to be beginning to be
+fulfilled on the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the school in the same serene and scholarly manner as he would
+have done in a school in Cambridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is not a true gentleman who is not one under all conditions and
+circumstances,&quot; was one of his views of a well-clothed character; and this
+morning he addressed the school with the courtesy of an old college
+professor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come here,&quot; he said, &quot;with but one purpose, and that is to try to
+teach you things which will do you the most good in life. That is always
+the best which will do the most good; all else is inferior. I shall first
+teach you to obey your sense of right in all things. This is the first
+principle of a true education. You will always know the way of life if you
+have this principle for your guide.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Conscience is the first education. A man's spiritual nature is his
+highest nature, and his spiritual concerns transcend all others. If a man
+is spiritually right, he is the master of all things. I would impress
+these truths on your minds, and teach them at the beginning. I have become
+willing to be poor, and to walk life's ways alone. The pilot of the Argo
+never returned from Colchis, but the Argo itself returned with the Golden
+Fleece. It may be so with my work; if so, I will be content. I have
+selected for our Scripture lesson the 'incorruptible seed.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose and spoke like one before an august assembly; and so it was to
+him, with his views of the future of the great empire of the Northwest. A
+part of the pupils could not comprehend all that he said any more than
+they had understood the allusion to the pilot of the Argo; but his manner
+was so gracious, so earnest, so inspired, that they all felt the spirit of
+it, and some had come to regard themselves as the students of some great
+destiny.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Older domes than the pyramids are looking down upon you,&quot; he said, &quot;and
+you are born to a higher destiny than were ever the children of the
+Pharaohs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With the exception of Gretchen, not one of the pupils fully understood
+the picturesque allusion. Like the reference to the pilot of the Argo, it
+was poetic mystery to them; and yet it filled them with a noble curiosity
+to know much and a desire to study hard, and to live hopefully and
+worthily. Like the outline of some unknown mountain range, it allured them
+to higher outlooks and wider distances.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He talked to us so grandly,&quot; said Gretchen to Mrs. Woods one evening,
+&quot;that I did not know half that he was saying; but it made me feel that I
+might be somebody, and I do intend to be. It is a good thing to have a
+teacher with great expectations.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, &quot;when there is so little to expect. People don't
+take a lot of nothing and make a heap of something in this world. It is
+all like a lot of feathers thrown against the wind. <i>Nevertheless</i> it
+makes one happier to have prospects, if they are far away. I used to; but
+they never came to nothing, unless it was to bring me way out here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The log school-house was a curious place. The children's benches consisted
+of split logs on pegs, without backs. The sides of the building were logs
+and sods, and the roof was constructed of logs and pine boughs. All of the
+children were barefooted, and several had but poor and scanty clothing.
+Yet the very simplicity of the place had a charm.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin sat alone, apart from the rest. It was plain to be seen that he
+was brooding over the painful event of the morning. Gretchen had grown
+cheerful again, but the bitter expression on the young Indian's face
+seemed to deepen in intensity. Mr. Mann saw it. To quiet his agitation, he
+began his teaching by going to him and sitting down beside him on the rude
+bench and opening to him the primer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You understand English?&quot; said Mr. Mann.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little. I can talk Chinook.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the Chinook vocabulary, which was originally the trade language of all
+the tribes employed by the Hudson Bay Company in collecting furs, most of
+the words resemble in sound the objects they represent. For example, a
+wagon in Chinook is chick-chick, a clock is ding-ding, a crow is kaw-kaw,
+a duck, quack-quack, a laugh, tee-hee; the heart is tum-tum, and a talk or
+speech or sermon, wah-wah. The language was of English invention; it took
+its name from the Chinook tribes, and became common in the Northwest.
+Nearly all of the old English and American traders in the Northwest
+learned to talk Chinook, and to teach Chinook was one of the purposes of
+the school.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you tell me what that is?&quot; asked Mr. Mann, pointing to the letter A
+in the primer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fox-trap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; that is the letter A.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Our digger of Greek roots from Cambridge was puzzled. He could not repeat
+the story of Cadmus to this druid of the forest or make a learned talk on
+arbitrary signs. He answered happily, however, &quot;Wise men said so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Me understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is the letter B.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, aha! Boston tilicum, you let her be. Old woman no good; me punish
+her. Knock-sheet&mdash;stick her&quot; (club her).</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann saw at once the strange turn that the young Indian's mind had
+taken. He was puzzled again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Benjamin; I will teach you what to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Teach me how to club her? You are good! Boston tilicum, we will be
+brothers&mdash;you and I. She wah-wah, but she is no good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is C.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aha! <i>She</i> heap wah-wah, but <i>she</i> no good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, that is A, B, and that is C. Try to remember them, and I will come
+soon and talk with you again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You wah-wah?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Mr. Mann, doubtful of the Indian's thought.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She wah-wah?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You heap wah-wah. You good. She heap wah-wah. She no good. Potlatch come;
+dance. She wah-wah no more. I wah-wah.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann was pained to see the revengeful trend of the Indian's thought.
+The hints of the evil intention of the Potlatch troubled him, but his
+faith in the old chief and the influence of his own integrity did not
+falter.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen was the most advanced scholar in the school. Her real mother had
+been an accomplished woman, and had taken great pains with her education.
+She was well instructed in the English branches, and had read five books
+of Virgil in Latin. Her reading had not been extensive, but it had
+embraced some of the best books in the English language. Her musical
+education had been received from a German uncle, who had been instructed
+by Herr Wieck, the father of Clara Schumann. He had been a great lover of
+Schumann's dreamy and spiritual music, and had taught her the young
+composer's pieces for children, and among them Romance and the Traumerei.
+He had taught her to play the two tone poems together in changing keys,
+beginning with the Traumerei and returning again to its beautiful and
+haunting strains. Gretchen interpreted these poems with all the color of
+true feeling, and under her bow they became enchantment to a musical ear
+and a delight to even as unmusical a soul as Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen's chief literary pleasure had been the study of the German
+poets. She had a poetic mind, and had learned to produce good rhymes. The
+songs of Uhland, Heine, and Schiller delighted her. She had loved to read
+the strange stories of Hoffman, and the imaginative works of Baron Fouqu&eacute;.
+She used to aspire to be an author or poet, but these aspirations had
+received no countenance from Mrs. Woods, and yet the latter seemed rather
+proud to regard her ward as possessing a superior order of mind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If there is anything that I do despise,&quot; Mrs. Woods used to say, &quot;it is
+books spun out of the air, all about nothin'! Dreams were made for sleep,
+and the day was made for work. I haven't much to be proud of in this
+world. I've always been a terror to lazy people and to Injuns, and if any
+one were to write my life they'd have some pretty stirring stories to
+tell. I have no doubt that I was made for something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Although Mrs. Woods boasted that she was a terror to Indians, she had been
+very apprehensive of danger since the Whitman colony massacre. She talked
+bravely and acted bravely according to her view of moral courage, but with
+a fearful heart. She dreaded the approaching Potlatch, and the frenzy that
+calls for dark deeds if the dance of the evil spirits should conclude the
+approaching feast.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sullen look in Benjamin's face as he silently took his seat in
+the log school-house the next morning. Mr. Mann saw it, and instinctively
+felt the dark and mysterious atmosphere of it. He went to him immediately
+after the opening exercises, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You haven't spoken to me this morning; what troubles you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The boy's face met the sympathetic eye of the master, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was happy on the morning when I came&mdash;sun; <i>she</i> hate Indian, talk
+against him to you; make me unhappy&mdash;shade; think I will have my
+revenge&mdash;<i>pil-pil</i>; then music make me happy; you make me happy; night
+come, and I think of her&mdash;she hate Indian&mdash;shade. Me will have my
+revenge&mdash;<i>pil-pil</i>. She say I have no right here; she have no right here;
+the land all belong to Umatilla; then to me; I no have her here. Look out
+for the October moon&mdash;Potlatch&mdash;dance&mdash;<i>pil-pil</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will be a friend to you, Benjamin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Boston tilicum, we will be friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will teach you how to be noble&mdash;like a king. You felt good when I
+was kind to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Boston tilicum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when the music played?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Boston tilicum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you must be good to her; that will make her feel good toward you. Do
+you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There came a painful look into the young Indian's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I good to her, make her good? She good to me make me good? She no good to
+me. She say I no right here. The land belong to Umatilla. She must go. You
+stay. Look out for the October moon. She wah-wah no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is noble to be good; it makes others good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then why isn't <i>she</i> good? She make me ugly; you make me good. I think I
+will punish her&mdash;<i>pil-pil</i>; then you speak kind, and the music play, then
+I think I will punish her not. Then dark thoughts come back again; clouds
+come again; hawks fly. What me do? Me am two selves; one self when I think
+of you, one when I think of her. She say I have no right. She have no
+right. All right after Potlatch. I wah-wah; she wah-wah no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be good yourself, Benjamin. Be kind to her; make her kind. You do right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young Indian hesitated, then answered:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do as you say. You are friend. I'll do as I feel when the music play. I
+try. So you say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cloud passed. The teacher paid the Indian boy special attention that
+morning. At noon Gretchen played Von Weber's Wild Hunt of Lutzow, which
+drove Napoleon over the Rhine. The rhythm of the music picturing the
+heroic cavalry enchanted Benjamin, and he said: &quot;Play it over again.&quot;
+After the music came a foot-race among the boys, which Benjamin easily
+won. The afternoon passed quietly, until in the cool, lengthening shadows
+of the trail the resolute form of Mrs. Woods appeared.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin saw her, and his calm mood fled. He looked up at the master.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I is come back again&mdash;my old self again. She say I no business here; she
+no business here. She wah-wah.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The master laid his hand on the boy's shoulder kindly and bent his face on
+his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do as you say,&quot; the boy continued. &quot;I will not speak till my good self
+come again. I be still. No wah-wah.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped his eyes upon a page in the book, and sat immovable. He was a
+noble picture of a struggle for self-control in a savage and untutored
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods asked for Gretchen at the door, and the master excused the
+girl, thanking her for the music that had delighted the school at the
+noon-hour. As she was turning to go, Mrs. Woods cast a glance toward
+Benjamin, and said to the master in an undertone: &quot;He's tame now&mdash;quiet as
+a purring cat. The cat don't lick cream when the folks are around. But
+he'll make trouble yet. An Injun is a Injun. I hate Injuns, though Parson
+Lee says I am all wrong. When you have seen as many of 'em as I have,
+you'll know more than you do now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin did not comprehend the words, but he felt that the woman had said
+something injurious to him. The suspicion cut him to the quick. His black
+eye sparkled and his cheek burned. The scholars all seemed to be sorry at
+the impression that Mrs. Woods's muttered words had left in his mind. He
+had struggled for two days to do his best&mdash;to follow his best self.</p>
+
+<p>School closed. Benjamin rose like a statue. He stood silent for a time and
+looked at the slanting sun and the dreamy afternoon glories of the
+glaciers, then moved silently out of the door. The old chief met him in
+the opening, and saw the hurt and troubled look in his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What have you been doing to my boy?&quot; he said to the master. &quot;Has he not
+been good?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very good; I like him,&quot; said Mr. Mann. &quot;He is trying to be good here,&quot;
+pointing to his heart. &quot;The good in him will grow. I will help him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief and the boy walked away slowly out of the shadows of the
+great trees and up the cool trail. The tall master followed them with his
+eye. In the departing forms he saw a picture of the disappearing race. He
+knew history well, and how it would repeat itself on the great plateau and
+amid the giant forests of the Oregon. He felt that the old man was
+probably one of the last great chiefs of the Umatillas.</p>
+
+<p>On one of the peninsulas of the Oregon, the so-called Islands of the Dead,
+the old warriors of the tribes were being gathered by the plagues that had
+come to the territories and tribal regions ever since the Hudson Bay
+Company established its posts on the west of the mountains, and Astoria
+had been planted on the great river, and settlers had gathered in the
+mountain-domed valley of the Willamette. Wherever the white sail went in
+the glorious rivers, pestilence came to the native tribes. The Indian
+race was perceptibly vanishing. Only one son of seven was left to
+Umatilla. What would be the fate of this boy?</p>
+
+<p>The master went home troubled over the event of the afternoon. He was
+asking the Indian to be better than his opponent, and she was a
+well-meaning woman and nominally a Christian.</p>
+
+<p>His first thought was to go to Mrs. Woods and ask her to wholly change her
+spirit and manners, and, in fact, preach to her the same simple doctrine
+of following only one's better self that he had taught to the young
+prince. But he well knew that she had not a teachable mind. He resolved to
+try to reach the same result through Gretchen, whom she upbraided with her
+tongue but loved in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods had come to regard it as her appointed mission to abuse people
+for their good. She thought it tended toward their spiritual progress and
+development. She often said that she felt &quot;called to set things right, and
+not let two or three people have their own way in everything&quot;&mdash;a view of
+life not uncommon among people of larger opportunities and better
+education.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin came to school the next morning silent and sullen, and the
+master went to him again in the same spirit as before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She say I no right here,&quot; he said. &quot;She suffer for it. She wah-wah. Look
+out for the October moon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, you are a better Indian now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; sometimes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The better Indian harms no one&mdash;one's good self never does evil. You are
+to be your good self, and please me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young Indian was silent for a time. He at last said, slowly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But me know who will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do what, Benjamin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Make her suffer&mdash;punish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know a bad Indian who will. He say so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must not let him. You are son of a chief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will try. I no wah-wah now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At noon Benjamin was light-hearted, and led the sports and games. He was
+very strong, and one of his lively feats was to let three or four children
+climb upon his back and run away with them until they tumbled off. He
+seemed perfectly happy when he was making the others happy, and nothing
+so delighted him as to be commended. He longed to be popular, not from
+any selfish reason, but because to be liked by others was his atmosphere
+of contentment. He was kindly above most Indians, a trait for which his
+father was famous. He was even kindly above many of the white people.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning he came to school in good humor, and a curious incident
+occurred soon after the school began. A little black bear ventured down
+the trail toward the open door, stopping at times and lifting up its head
+curiously and cautiously. It at last ventured up to the door, put its fore
+feet on the door-sill, and looked into the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kill it!&quot; cried one of the boys, a recent emigrant, in the alarm. &quot;Kill
+it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What harm it do?&quot; said the Indian boy. &quot;Me drive it away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young Indian started toward the door as at play, and shook his head at
+the young bear, which was of the harmless kind so well known in the
+Northwest, and the bear turned and ran, while the Indian followed it
+toward the wood. The odd event was quite excusable on any ground of rule
+and propriety in the primitive school.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It no harm; let it go,&quot; said the boy on his return; and the spirit of the
+incident was good and educational in the hearts of the school.</p>
+
+<p>The charm of his life was Gretchen's violin. It transfigured him; it
+changed the world to him. His father was a forest philosopher; the boy
+caught a like spirit, and often said things that were a revelation to Mr.
+Mann.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you like the violin so much?&quot; said the latter to him one day.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It brings to me the thing longed for&mdash;the thing I long to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, what is that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't tell it&mdash;I feel it here&mdash;I sense it&mdash;I shall know&mdash;something
+better&mdash;yonder&mdash;the thing we long for, but do not know. Don't you long for
+it? Don't you feel it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tall schoolmaster said &quot;Yes,&quot; and was thoughtful. The poor Indian had
+tried to express that something beyond his self of which he could only now
+have a dim conception, and about which even science is dumb. Mr. Mann
+understood it, but he could hardly have expressed it better.</p>
+
+<p>The boy learned the alphabet quickly, and began to demand constant
+attention in his eagerness to learn. Mr. Mann found that he was giving
+more than the allotted time to him. To meet the case, he appointed from
+time to time members of the school &quot;monitors,&quot; as he called them, to sit
+beside him and help him.</p>
+
+<p>One day he asked Gretchen to do this work. The boy was delighted to be
+instructed by the mistress of the violin, and she was as pleased with the
+honor of such monitorial duties to the son of a chief. But an unexpected
+episode grew out of all this mutual good-will and helpful kindness.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin was so grateful to Gretchen for the pains that she took with his
+studies that he wished to repay her. He had a pretty little Cayuse pony
+which he used to ride; one day after school he caused it to be brought to
+the school-house, and, setting Gretchen upon it, he led it by the mane up
+the trail toward her home, a number of the pupils following them. On the
+way the merry-making party met Mrs. Woods. She was as astonished as though
+she had encountered an elephant, and there came into her face a look of
+displeasure and anger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What kind of doings are these, I would like to know?&quot; she exclaimed, in a
+sharp tone, standing in the middle of the way and scanning every face.
+&quot;Riding out with an Injun, Gretchen, are you? That's what you are doing.
+Girl, get off that horse and come with me! That is the kind of propriety
+that they teach out in these parts, is it? and the master came from
+Harvard College, too! One would think that this world was just made to
+enjoy one's self in, just like a sheep pasture, where the lambs go hopping
+and skipping, not knowing that they were born to be fleeced.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She hurried Gretchen away excitedly, and the school turned back. Benjamin
+was disappointed, and looked more hurt than ever before. On the way he met
+his old father, who had come out to look for him, and the rest of the
+scholars dispersed to their homes.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, after a long, vivid twilight, such as throws its splendor
+over the mountain ranges in these northern latitudes, Mrs. Woods and
+Gretchen were sitting in their log-house just within the open door. Mr.
+Woods was at the block-house at Walla Walla, and the cabin was
+unprotected. The light was fading in the tall pines of the valleys, and
+there was a deep silence everywhere, undisturbed by so much as a whisper
+of the Chinook winds. Mrs. Woods's thoughts seemed far away&mdash;doubtless
+among the old meadows, orchards, and farm-fields of New England. Gretchen
+was playing the musical glasses.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mrs. Woods's thoughts came back from their far-away journeys. She
+had seen something that disturbed her. She sat peering into a tract of
+trees which were some three hundred feet high&mdash;one of the great tree
+cathedrals of the Northwestern forests. Suddenly she said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen, there are Injuns in the pines. Watch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen looked out, but saw nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The shadows deepened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have twice seen Injuns passing from tree to tree and hiding. Why are
+they there? There&mdash;look!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A sinewy form in the shadows of the pines appeared and disappeared.
+Gretchen saw it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They mean evil, or they would not hide. Gretchen, what shall we do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods closed the door and barred it, took down the rifle from the
+side of the room, and looked out through a crevice in the split shutter.</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence for a time; then Mrs. Woods moved and said: &quot;They are
+coming toward the house, passing from one tree to another. They mean
+revenge&mdash;I feel it&mdash;revenge on me, and Benjamin&mdash;he is the leader of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The flitting of shadowy forms among the pines grew alarming. Nearer and
+nearer they came, and more and more excited became Mrs. Woods's
+apprehensions. Gretchen began to cry, through nervous excitement, and with
+the first rush of tears came to her, as usual, the thought of her violin.</p>
+
+<p>She took up the instrument, tuned it with nervous fingers, and drew the
+bow across the strings, making them shriek as with pain, and then drifted
+into the air the music of the Traumerei.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fiddling, Gretchen&mdash;fiddling in the shadow of death? I don't know but
+what you are right&mdash;that tune, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The music trembled; the haunting strain quivered, rose and descended, and
+was repeated over and over again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no movement in the pines,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;It is growing
+darker. Play on. It does seem as though that strain was stolen from heaven
+to overcome evil with.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen played. An hour passed, and the moon rose. Then she laid down the
+violin and listened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gretchen, he is coming! I know that form. It is Benjamin. He is
+coming alone. What shall we do? He is&mdash;right before the door!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen's eye fell upon the musical glasses, which were among the few
+things that she had brought from the East and which had belonged to her
+old German home. She had tuned them early in the evening by pouring water
+into them, as she had been taught to do in her old German village, and she
+wet her fingers and touched them to the tender forest hymn:</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Now the woods are all sleeping.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He has stopped,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;He is listening&mdash;play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The music filled the cabin. No tones can equal in sweetness the musical
+glasses, and the trembling nerves of Gretchen's fingers gave a spirit of
+pathetic pleading to the old German forest hymn. Over and over again she
+played the air, waiting for the word of Mrs. Woods to cease.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is going,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, slowly. &quot;He is moving back toward the
+pines. He has changed his mind, or has gone for his band. You may stop
+now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods watched by the split shutter until past midnight. Then she
+laid down on the bed, and Gretchen watched, and one listened while the
+other slept, by turns, during the night. But no footstep was heard. The
+midsummer sun blazed over the pines in the early morning; birds sang gayly
+in the dewy air, and Gretchen prepared the morning meal as usual, then
+made her way to the log school-house.</p>
+
+<p>She found Benjamin there. He met her with a happy face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad Indian come to your cabin last night,&quot; said he. &quot;He mean evil; he
+hate old woman. She wah-wah too much, and he hate. Bad Indian hear
+music&mdash;violin; he be pleased&mdash;evil hawks fly out of him. Good Indian come
+back. One is tied to the other. One no let the other go. What was that low
+music I hear? Baby music! Chinook wind in the bushes! Quail&mdash;mother-bird
+singing to her nest! I love that music.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, you play at Potlatch, frighten away the hawks; mother-birds sing. No
+devil dance. Say, I have been good; no harm old wah-wah. Will you&mdash;will
+you play&mdash;play that tin-tin at Potlatch under the big moon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A great thought had taken possession of the young Indian's mind, and a
+great plan&mdash;one worthy of a leader of a peace congress. Gretchen saw the
+plan in part, but did not fully comprehend it. She could only see that his
+life had become a struggle between good and evil, and that he was now
+following some good impulse of his better nature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was much alone during this summer. Her husband was away from
+home during the working days of the week, at the saw and shingle mill on
+the Columbia, and during the same days Gretchen was much at school.</p>
+
+<p>The summer in the mountain valleys of Washington is a long serenity. The
+deep-blue sky is an ocean of intense light, and the sunbeams glint amid
+the cool forest shadows, and seem to sprinkle the plains with gold-dust
+like golden snow. Notwithstanding her hard practical speech, which was a
+habit, Mrs. Woods loved Nature, and, when her work was done, she often
+made little journeys alone into the mountain woods.</p>
+
+<p>In one of these solitary excursions she met with a little black cub and
+captured it, and, gathering it up in her apron like a kitten, she ran with
+it toward her cabin, after looking behind to see if the mother bear was
+following her. Had she seen the mother of the cunning little black
+creature in her apron pursuing her, she would have dropped the cub, which
+would have insured her escape from danger. But the mother bear did not
+make an early discovery of the loss in her family. She was probably out
+berrying, and such experiences of stolen children were wholly unknown to
+the bear family in Washington before this time. The Indians would not have
+troubled the little cub.</p>
+
+<p>The black bear of the Cascades is quite harmless, and its cubs, like
+kittens, seem to have a sense of humor unusual among animals. For a white
+child to see a cub is to desire it to tame for a pet, and Mrs. Woods felt
+the same childish instincts when she caught up the little creature, which
+seemed to have no fear of anything, and ran away with it toward her home.</p>
+
+<p>It was Saturday evening when she returned, and she found both Mr. Woods
+and Gretchen waiting to meet her at the door. They were surprised to see
+her haste and the pivotal turning of her head at times, as though she
+feared pursuit from some dangerous foe.</p>
+
+<p>Out of breath, she sank down on the log that served for a step, and,
+opening her apron cautiously, said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where did you get that?&quot; said Mr. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I stole it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are you going to do with it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Raise it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For company. I haven't any neighbors.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what do you want it for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is so cunning. It just rolled over in the trail at my feet, and I
+grabbed it and ran.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what if the mother-bear should come after it?&quot; asked Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would shoot her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That would be a strange way to treat your new neighbors,&quot; said Mr. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Woods put a leather strap around the neck of the little bear, and tied
+the strap to a log in the yard. The little thing began to be alarmed at
+these strange proceedings, and to show a disposition to use its paws in
+resistance, but it soon learned not to fear its captors; its adoption into
+the shingle-maker's family was quite easily enforced, and the pet seemed
+to feel quite at home.</p>
+
+<p>There was some difficulty at first in teaching the cub to eat, but hunger
+made it a tractable pupil of the berry dish, and Mrs. &quot;Woods was soon able
+to say:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There it is, just as good as a kitten, and I would rather have it than to
+have a kitten. It belongs to these parts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Woods! She soon found that her pet did &quot;belong to these parts,&quot;
+and that its native instincts were strong, despite her moral training. She
+lost her bear in a most disappointing way, and after she supposed that it
+had become wholly devoted to her.</p>
+
+<p>She had taught it to &quot;roll over&quot; for its dinner, and it had grown to think
+that all the good things of this world came to bears by their willingness
+to roll over. Whenever any member of the family appeared at the door, the
+cub would roll over like a ball, and expect to be fed, petted, and
+rewarded for the feat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I taught it that,&quot; Mrs. Woods used to say. &quot;I could teach it anything. It
+is just as knowing as it is cunning, and lots of company for me out here
+in the mountains. It thinks more of me than of its old mother. You can
+educate anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As the cub grew, Mrs. Woods's attachment to it increased. She could not
+bear to see its freedom restrained by the strap and string, and so she
+untied the string from the log and let it drag it about during the day,
+only fastening it at night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no danger of its running away,&quot; said she; &quot;it thinks too much of
+me and the berry dish. I've tamed it completely; it's as faithful to its
+home as a house-cat, and a great deal more company than a cat or dog or
+any other dumb animal. The nicest bird to tame is a blue-jay, and the best
+animal for company is a cub. I do believe that I could tame the whole race
+of bears if I only had 'em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods had a pet blue-jay that she had taken when young from its nest,
+and it would do many comical things. It seemed to have a sense of humor,
+like a magpie, and to enjoy a theft like that bird. She finally gave it
+the freedom of the air, but it would return at her call for food and eat
+from her hand. The blue-jay is naturally a very wild bird, but when it is
+tamed it becomes very inquisitive and social, and seems to have a brain
+full of invention and becomes a very comical pet. Mrs. Woods called her
+pet bear Little Roll Over.</p>
+
+<p>One day a visitor appeared at the emigrant's cabin. A black she-bear came
+out of the woods, and, seeing the cub, stood up on her haunches in
+surprise and seemed to say, &quot;How came you here?&quot; It was evidently the
+mother of the cub.</p>
+
+<p>The cub saw its mother and rolled over several times, and then stood up on
+its haunches and looked at her, as much as to say, &quot;Where did you come
+from, and what brought you here?&quot; In the midst of this interesting
+interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="In_the_midst_of_this_interview" id="In_the_midst_of_this_interview" /><a href="./images/72.jpg">
+<img src="./images/72-tb.jpg" alt="In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin." title="In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin." /></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><i>In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin.</i></p>
+
+<p>She saw the mother-bear. True to her New England instincts, she shook her
+homespun apron and said: &quot;Shoo!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She also saw that the little bear was greatly excited, and under the
+stress of temptation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here,&quot; said she, &quot;roll over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cub did so, but in the direction of its mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods hurried out toward it to prevent this ungrateful gravitation.</p>
+
+<p>The mother-bear seemed much to wonder that the cub should be found in such
+forbidden associations, and began to make signs by dipping her fore paws.
+The cub evidently understood these signs, and desired to renew its
+old-time family relations.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, &quot;you&mdash;you&mdash;you mind now; roll over&mdash;roll over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cub did so, true to its education in one respect, but it did not roll
+in the direction of its foster-mother, but rolled toward its own mother.
+It turned over some five or more times, then bounded up and ran toward the
+she-bear. The latter dropped her fore feet on the earth again, and the two
+bears, evidently greatly delighted to find each other, quickly disappeared
+in the woods. As the cub was about to enter the bushes it turned and gave
+a final glance at Mrs. Woods and rolled over.</p>
+
+<p>This was too much for Mrs. Woods's heart. She said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After all I have done for ye, too! Oh, Little Roll Over, Little Roll
+Over, I wouldn't have thought it of you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She surveyed the empty yard, threw her apron over her head, as stricken
+people used to do in Lynn in the hour of misfortune, and sat down on the
+log at the door and cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never have had any confidence in Injuns,&quot; she said, &quot;since my saw
+walked off. But I did have some respect for bears. I wonder if I shall
+ever meet that little cre'tur' again, and, if I do, if it will roll over.
+This world is all full of disappointments, and I have had my share. Maybe
+I'll get it back to me yet. Nevertheless&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods often talked of Little Roll Over and its cunning ways; she
+hoped she would some time meet it again, and wondered how it would act if
+she should find it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Benjamin continued to attend the school, but it was evident that he did so
+with an injured heart, and chiefly out of love for the old chief, his
+father. He had a high regard for his teacher, whose kindness was
+unfailing, and he showed a certain partiality for Gretchen; but he was as
+a rule silent, and there were dark lines on his forehead that showed that
+he was unhappy. He would not be treated as an inferior, and he seemed to
+feel that he was so regarded by the scholars.</p>
+
+<p>He began to show a peculiar kind of contempt for all of the pupils except
+Gretchen. He pretended not to see them, hear them, or to be aware of their
+presence or existence. He would pass through a group of boys as though the
+place was vacant, not so much as moving his eye from the direct path. He
+came and went, solitary and self-contained, proud, cold, and revengeful.</p>
+
+<p>But this indifference was caused by sensitiveness and the feeling that he
+had been slighted. The dark lines relaxed, and his face wore a kindly glow
+whenever his teacher went to his desk&mdash;if the split-log bench for a
+book-rest might be so called. &quot;I would give my life for Gretchen and you,&quot;
+he said one day to Mr. Mann; and added: &quot;I would save them all for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a cluster of gigantic trees close by the school-house, nearly
+two hundred feet high. The trees, which were fir, had only dry stumps of
+limbs for a distance of nearly one hundred feet from the ground. At the
+top, or near the top, the green leaves or needles and dead boughs had
+matted together and formed a kind of shelf or eyrie, and on this a pair of
+fishing eagles had made their nest.</p>
+
+<p>The nest had been there many years, and the eagles had come back to it
+during the breeding season and reared their young.</p>
+
+<p>For a time after the opening of the school none of the pupils seemed to
+give any special attention to this high nest. It was a cheerful sight at
+noon to see the eagles wheel in the air, or the male eagle come from the
+glimmering hills and alight beside his mate.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon a sudden shadow like a falling cloud passed by the half-open
+shutter of the log school-house and caused the pupils to start. There was
+a sharp cry of distress in the air, and the master looked out and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Attend to your books, children; it is only the eagle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But again and again the same swift shadow, like the fragment of a
+storm-cloud, passed across the light, and the wild scream of the bird
+caused the scholars to watch and to listen. The cry was that of agony and
+affright, and it was so recognized by Benjamin, whose ear and eye were
+open to Nature, and who understood the voices and cries of the wild and
+winged inhabitants of the trees and air.</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I go see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The master bowed silently. The boy glided out of the door, and was heard
+to exclaim:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look! look! the nest&mdash;the nest!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The master granted the school a recess, and all in a few moments were
+standing without the door peering into the tall trees.</p>
+
+<p>The long dry weather and withering sun had caused the dead boughs to
+shrink and to break beneath the great weight of the nest that rested upon
+them. The eagle's nest was in ruins. It had fallen upon the lower boughs,
+and two young half-fledged eaglets were to be seen hanging helplessly on a
+few sticks in mid-air and in danger of falling to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright afternoon. The distress of the two birds was pathetic, and
+their cries called about them other birds, as if in sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>The eagles seldom descended to any point near the plain in their flight,
+but mounted, as it were, to the sun, or floated high in the air; but in
+their distress this afternoon they darted downward almost to the ground,
+as though appealing for help for their young.</p>
+
+<p>While the school was watching this curious scene the old chief of the
+Umatillas came up the cool highway or trail, to go home with Benjamin
+after school.</p>
+
+<p>The eagles seemed to know him. As he joined the pitying group, the female
+eagle descended as in a spasm of grief, and her wing swept his plume. She
+uttered a long, tremulous cry as she passed and ascended to her young.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She call,&quot; said the old chief. &quot;She call me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I go,&quot; said Benjamin, with a look at his father.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, go&mdash;she call. She call&mdash;the God overhead he call. Go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A slender young pine ran up beside one of the giant trees, tall and green.
+In a moment Benjamin was seen ascending this pine to a point where he
+could throw himself upon the smallest of the great trees and grasp the
+ladder of the lower dead branches. Up and up he went in the view of all,
+until he had reached a height of some hundred and fifty feet.</p>
+
+<p>The eagles wheeled around him, describing higher circles as he ascended.
+He reached the young eagles at last, but passed by them. What was he going
+to do?</p>
+
+<p>There was a shelf of green boughs above him, which would bear the weight
+of a nest. He went up to them at a distance of nearly two hundred feet. He
+then began to gather up the fallen sticks of the old nest, and to break
+off new sticks and to construct a new nest. The old chief watched him with
+pride, and, turning to the master, said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah-a&mdash;that is my boy. He be me. I was he once&mdash;it is gone now&mdash;what I
+was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Benjamin had made a nest he descended, and at the peril of his own
+life, on the decayed limbs, he rescued the two young eagles that were
+hanging with heads downward and open beaks. He carried them up to the new
+nest and placed them in it, and began to descend.</p>
+
+<p>But a withered bough that he grasped was too slender for his weight, and
+broke. He grasped another, but that too gave way. He tried to drop into
+the top of the tall young pine below him, but, in his effort to get into
+position to do so, limb after limb of dead wood broke, and he came falling
+to the earth, amid the startled looks of the chief and the cries of the
+children.</p>
+
+<p>The ground was soft, and his body lay for a time half imbedded in it.</p>
+
+<p>He was senseless, and blood streamed from his nose and reddened his eyes.
+The old chief seized his arm and tried to raise him, but the effort
+brought no sign of life, and his body was lowered slowly back again by the
+agonized father, who sat down and dropped his head on his son's breast.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann brought water and wet the boy's lips and bathed his brow. He then
+placed his hand over the boy's heart and held it there. There was a long
+silence. The old chief watched the teacher's hand. He seemed waiting for a
+word of hope; but Mr. Mann did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief lifted his head at last, and said; appealingly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, you do not know how I feel! You do not know&mdash;the birds
+know&mdash;<i>you</i> do not know!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The teacher rubbed the boy's breast and arms, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will revive.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, Boston tilicum?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will <i>live</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My boy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The dark face brightened. The old man clasped the boy's hand and drew it
+to his breast. The children attempted to brush the earth out of the young
+hero's dark, matted hair, but the old chief said, mysteriously:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No touch him! he is mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At last a convulsive movement passed over the boy's body. The teacher
+again pressed his hand on the heart of his pupil, and he quickly
+exclaimed: &quot;It beats.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fiery sun gleamed from the snowy mountains. There were cool murmurs of
+winds in the trees, and they sent forth a resinous odor into the air. The
+balm dropped down like a messenger of healing.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the boy's eyes opened and gazed steadily into the blue air.</p>
+
+<p>The eagles were wheeling about the trees. The boy watched them, as though
+nothing had passed. They were making narrowing circles, and at last each
+alighted on the new nest beside their young.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his face slowly toward his father.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Saved!&quot; he said. &quot;They are happy. I fell. Let's go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose up. As he did so the male eagle rose from his nest and, uttering a
+glad scream, wheeled in the sky and made his way through the crimson haze
+toward the fishing grounds of the lower Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>The chief's eye followed him for a time; then the old man turned a happy
+face on the schoolmaster and children and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know how he feels&mdash;the Manitou overhead&mdash;he made the hearts of all;
+yours&mdash;the birds&mdash;mine. He is glad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was something beautiful and pathetic in the old chief's sense of the
+common heart and feeling of all conscious beings. The very eagles seemed
+to understand it; and Master Mann, as he turned away from the school-house
+that day, said to Gretchen:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I myself am being taught. I am glad to learn all this large life. I hope
+that you will one day become a teacher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen went home that afternoon with a glad heart. Benjamin did not
+return to the school again for several days, and when he came back it
+seemed to be with a sense of humiliation. He seemed to feel somehow that
+he ought not to have fallen from the tree.</p>
+
+<p>The fourth of July came, and Master Mann had invited the school to come
+together on the holiday for patriotic exercises. He had one of the pupils
+read the Declaration of Independence on the occasion, and Gretchen played
+the President's March on the violin. He himself made an historical
+address, and then joined in some games out of doors under the trees.</p>
+
+<p>He brought to the school-house that day an American flag, which he hung
+over the desk during the exercises. When the school went out to play he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I could hang the flag from a pole, or from the top of one of the
+trees.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin's face brightened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go,&quot; he said; &quot;I will go <i>up</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hang it on the eagle's nest,&quot; said one of the pupils. &quot;The eagle is the
+national bird.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann saw that to suspend the national emblem from the eagle's nest
+would be a patriotic episode of the day, and he gave the flag to Benjamin,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beware of the rotten limbs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I no woman,&quot; said Benjamin; and, waving the flag, he moved like a
+squirrel up the trees. He placed the flag on the nest, while the eagles
+wheeled around him, screaming wildly. He descended safely, and made the
+incident an object lesson, as Mr. Mann repeated the ode to the American
+eagle, found at that time in many reading-books.</p>
+
+<p>While Mr. Mann was doing so, and had reached the line&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Bird of Columbia, well art thou,&quot; etc.,</p>
+
+<p>one of the eagles swept down to the nest and seized the banner in his
+talons. He rose again into the air and circled high, then with a swift,
+strong curve of the wings, came down to the nest again, and, seizing the
+flag, tore it from the nest and bore it aloft to the sky.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="The_eagle_soared_away" id="The_eagle_soared_away" /><a href="./images/84.jpg">
+<img src="./images/84-tb.jpg" alt="The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed after him in his talons."
+title="The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed after him in his talons." /></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><i>The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed after him in his talons.</i></p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful sight. The air was clear, the far peaks were serene,
+and the glaciers of Mount Hood gleamed like a glory of crystallized light.
+The children cheered. The bird soared away in the blue heavens, and the
+flag streamed after him in his talons. He dropped the flag at last over
+a dark, green forest. The children cheered again.</p>
+
+<p>It was miles away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I go find it,&quot; said Benjamin; and he darted away from the place and was
+not seen until the next day, when he returned, bringing the flag with him.</p>
+
+<p>Marlowe Mann never forgot that fourth of July on the Columbia.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MOUNTAIN LION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One morning, as Mrs. Woods sat in her door picking over some red
+whortleberries which she had gathered in the timber the day before, a
+young cow came running into the yard, as if for protection. Mrs. Woods
+started up, and looked in the direction from which the animal had come
+running, but saw nothing to cause the alarm.</p>
+
+<p>The cow looked backward, and lowed. Mrs. Woods set down her dish of red
+berries, took her gun, and went out toward the timber where the cow had
+been alarmed.</p>
+
+<p>There was on the edge of the timber a large fir that the shingle-maker had
+felled when he first built his house or shack, but had not used, owing to
+the hardness of the grain. It lay on the earth, but still connected with
+its high stump, forming a kind of natural fence. Around it were beds of
+red phlox, red whortleberry bushes, and wild sunflowers.</p>
+
+<p>The horny stump and fallen tree had been made very interesting to Mrs.
+Woods in her uneventful life by a white squirrel that often had appeared
+upon it, and made a pretty picture as it sat eating in the sun, its head
+half covered with its bushy tail. White squirrels were not common in the
+timber, and this was the only one that Mrs. Woods had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish that I could contrive to catch that there white squirrel,&quot; she
+said to Gretchen one day; &quot;it would be a sight of company for me when you
+are gone. The bear used me mean, but I kind o' like all these little
+children of Natur'. But I don't want no Injuns, and no more bears unless
+<i>he</i> comes back again. The schoolmaster may like Injuns, and you may, but
+I don't. Think how I lost my saw; Injun and all went off together. I can
+seem to see him now, goin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As Mrs. Woods drew near the fallen tree she looked for the white squirrel,
+which was not to be seen. Suddenly the bushes near the stump moved, and
+she saw the most evil-looking animal that she had ever met drawing back
+slowly toward the fallen tree. It was long, and seemed to move more like
+an immense serpent than an animal. It had a catlike face, with small ears
+and spiteful eyes, and a half-open mouth displaying a red tongue and
+sharp teeth. Its face was sly, malicious, cruel, and cowardly. It seemed
+to be such an animal as would attack one in the dark. It was much larger
+than a dog or common black bear.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods raised her gun, but she thought that she was too far from the
+house to risk an encounter with so powerful an animal. So she drew back
+slowly, and the animal did the same defiantly. She at last turned and ran
+to the house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen,&quot; she said, &quot;what do you think I have seen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The white squirrel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; a tiger!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there are no tigers here; so the chief said.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I have just seen one, and it had the meanest-looking face that I ever
+saw on any living creature. It was all snarls. That animal is dangerous. I
+shall be almost afraid to be alone now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be afraid to go to school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Gretchen, you needn't be afraid. I'll go with you mornin's and carry
+the gun. I like to walk mornin's under the trees, the air does smell so
+sweet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night, just as the last low tints of the long twilight had
+disappeared and the cool, dewy airs began to move among the pines, a long,
+deep, fearful cry was heard issuing from the timber. Mrs. Woods started up
+from her bed and called, &quot;Gretchen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The girl had been awakened by the cry, which might have been that of a
+child of a giant in pain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you hear that?&quot; asked Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let's get up and go out,&quot; said Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the same long, clear, pitiable cry, as if some giant distress,
+was repeated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems human,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;It makes me want to know what it is.
+Yes, let us get up and go out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cry was indeed pleading and magnetic. It excited pity and curiosity.
+There was a strange, mysterious quality about it that drew one toward it.
+It was repeated a third time and then ceased.</p>
+
+<p>There was a family by the name of Bonney who had taken a donated claim
+some miles from the Woodses on the Columbia. They had two boys who
+attended the school.</p>
+
+<p>Early the next morning one of these boys, named Arthur, came over to the
+Woodses in great distress, with a fearful story.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Something,&quot; he said, &quot;has killed all of our cattle. They all lie dead
+near the clearing, just as though they were asleep. They are not injured,
+as we can see; they are not shot or bruised, nor do they seem to be
+poisoned&mdash;they are not swelled&mdash;they look as though they were alive&mdash;but
+they are cold&mdash;they are just dead. Did you hear anything in the timber
+last night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;Wasn't it mysterious? Lost your cattle, boy? I am
+sorry for your folks. Mabbie (may be) 'tis Injuns.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; father says that he can find no injury on them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Tis awful mysterious like,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, &quot;cattle dyin' without
+anything ailin' 'em! I've always thought this was a good country, but I
+don't know. Tell your folks I'm sorry for 'em. Can I do anything for you?
+I'll come over and see ye in the course of the day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night the same strange, wild, pleading cry was repeated in the
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's something very strange about that sound,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;It
+makes me feel as though I must run toward it. It draws me. It makes me
+feel curi's. It has haunted me all day, and now it comes again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you suppose that the cry has had anything to do with the death of Mr.
+Bonney's cattle?&quot; asked Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know&mdash;we don't understand this country fully yet. There's
+something very mysterious about the death of those cattle. You ought to
+have seen 'em. They all lie there dead, as though they had just lost their
+breath, and that was all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The next night was silent. But, on the following morning, a boy came to
+the school with a strange story. He had been driving home his father's
+cows on the evening before, when an animal had dropped from a great tree
+on the neck of one of the cows, which struggled and lowed for a few
+minutes, then fell, and was found dead. The boy and the other cattle had
+run away on the sudden appearance of the animal. The dead cow presented
+the same appearance as the cows of Mr. Bonney had done.</p>
+
+<p>When the old chief appeared at the school-house with Benjamin that
+morning, the school gathered around him and asked him what these things
+could mean. He replied, in broken Chinook, that there was a puma among
+them, and that this animal sucked the blood of its victims.</p>
+
+<p>The puma or cougar or panther, sometimes spelled <i>painter</i>, is the
+American lion. It is commonly called the mountain lion in the Northwest.
+It belongs to the cat family, and received the name of lion from its tawny
+color. When its appetite for blood has been satisfied, and its face is in
+repose, it is a very beautiful animal; but when seeking its prey it
+presents a mean, cowardly, stealthy appearance, and its face is a picture
+of cruelty and evil. It will destroy as many as fifty sheep in a night,
+sucking their blood and leaving them as though they had died without any
+external injury. This terrible animal is easily tamed if captured young,
+and, strange to say, becomes one of the most affectionate and devoted of
+pets. It will purr about the feet and lick the hands of its master, and
+develop all the attractive characteristics of the domestic cat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We must have a puma-hunt,&quot; said the chief, &quot;now&mdash;right away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not to-day?&quot; said the teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said the chief, &quot;now&mdash;he eat your children. Find boy dead some day,
+just like cow. He drop down from a tree on a papoose. Benjamin and I will
+go hunt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="The_mountain_lion" id="The_mountain_lion" /><a href="./images/92.jpg"><img src="./images/92-tb.jpg" alt="The mountain lion." title="The mountain lion" /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>The mountain lion.</i></p>
+
+<p>The two disappeared. For several days they did not return. But, one
+morning, a party of Indians in hunting-gear came riding up to the
+school-house, full of gay spirits and heroic pride. Behind them came
+the old chief on foot, moving slowly, as though tired, and with him was
+Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian boy had a brown skin of an animal on his shoulder&mdash;a raw hide
+with very beautiful fur.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief came into the school-room with an air of pride, and stood
+for a few minutes silent before the master. His face, though wrinkled, was
+really beautiful and noble, in the light of the happy intelligence that
+awaited communication. He at last looked each pupil in the face and then
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have killed the puma. School no fear now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took the skin of the animal from Benjamin's shoulder, and held it up
+before the eyes of all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was you?&quot; asked the teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;not me, not me, no!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The braves?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;not the braves. No.&quot; The old chief paused, and then said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, it was Benjamin. Treat him well. He is good to me&mdash;he
+mean well. He likes you&mdash;he die for you. Tell the boys it was Benjamin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He turned away slowly, with a bearing of pride. The Indian boy gave the
+puma's skin to the master, and took his seat in silence. There was a
+spirit in the strange scene that was touching, and the master's lip
+quivered as he took the old chief's hand that bright morning, as a parting
+sign of gratitude and good-will. He felt the innate brotherhood of all
+human hearts, and returned to his desk happy in his calling and work; and
+seeing that the natural rights of all men were secured; and that the human
+heart has the same impulses everywhere, as he had never seen these truths
+before.</p>
+
+<p>That night Gretchen told the story of the puma to Mrs. Woods, who had
+learned the leading incidents of it in the afternoon as she came to meet
+the girl in the trail, on the way from school.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SMOKE-TALK.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One day in September Mrs. Woods was at work in her cabin, and Gretchen was
+at school. Mrs. Woods was trying to sing. She had a hard, harsh voice
+always, and the tune was a battle-cry. The hymn on which she was
+exercising her limited gifts was not one of the happy tunes of Methodism,
+which early settlers on the Columbia loved to sing. It was a very
+censorious rhyme and took a very despondent view of the human heart:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;The pure testimony poured forth from the Spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cuts like a two-edg&egrave;d sword;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And hypocrites now are most sorely tormented<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Because they're condemn&egrave;d by the Word.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She made the word &quot;hypocrites&quot; ring through the solitary log-cabin&mdash;she
+seemed to have the view that a large population of the world were of this
+class of people. She paused in her singing and looked out of the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's one honest woman alive,&quot; she remarked to herself. &quot;Thank Heaven,
+<i>I</i> never yet feared the face of clay!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A tall, dark form met her eye&mdash;a great shadow in the scintillant sunlight.
+It was an aged Indian, walking with a staff. He was coming toward the
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Umatilla!&quot; she said. &quot;What can he want of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief approached, and bowed and sat down on a log that answered
+for a door-step.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I walk with a staff now,&quot; he said. &quot;My bow has drifted away on the tide
+of years&mdash;it will never come back again. I am old.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have been a good man,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, yielding to an impulse of her
+better nature. She presently added, as though she had been too generous,
+&quot;And there aren't many good Injuns&mdash;nor white folks either for that
+matter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come to have a smoke-talk with you,&quot; said the old chief, taking
+out his pipe and asking Mrs. Woods to light it. &quot;Listen! I want to go
+home. When a child is weary, I take him by the hand and point him to the
+smoke of his wigwam. He goes home and sleeps. I am weary. The Great Spirit
+has taken me by the hand; he points to the smoke of the wigwam. There
+comes a time when all want to go home. I want to go home. Umatilla is
+going home. I have <i>not</i> spoken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The smoke from his pipe curled over his white head in the pure, clear
+September air. He was eighty or more years of age. He had heard the
+traditions of Juan de Fuca, the Greek pilot, who left his name on the
+straits of the Puget Sea. He had heard of the coming of Vancouver in his
+boyhood, the English explorer who named the seas and mountains for his
+lieutenants and friends, Puget, Baker, Ranier, and Townsend. He had known
+the forest lords of the Hudson Bay Company, and of Astoria; had seen the
+sail of Gray as it entered the Columbia, and had heard the preaching of
+Jason Lee. The murder of Whitman had caused him real sorrow. Umatilla was
+a man of peace. He had loved to travel up and down the Columbia, and visit
+the great bluffs of the Puget Sea. He lived for a generation at peace with
+all the tribes, and now that he was old he was venerated by them all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a good old Injun,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, yielding to her better self
+again. &quot;I don't say it about many people. I do think you have done your
+best&mdash;considering.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not what I want to be,&quot; said Umatilla. &quot;It is what we want to be
+that we shall be one day; don't you think so? The Great Spirit is going to
+make me what I want to be&mdash;he will make us all what we want to be. My
+desires are better than I&mdash;I will be my desires by and by. My staff is in
+my hand, and I am going home. The old warriors have gone home. They were
+thick as the flowers of the field, thick as the stars of the night. My
+boys are gone home&mdash;they were swift as the hawks in the air. Benjamin is
+left to the Umatillas. He is no butcher-bird; no forked tongue&mdash;he will
+remember the shade of his father. My heart is in his heart. I am going
+home. I have <i>not</i> spoken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He puffed his pipe again, and watched an eagle skimming along on the great
+over-sea of September gold. The Indian language is always picturesque, and
+deals in symbols and figures of speech. It is picture-speaking. The
+Indians are all poets in their imaginations, like children. This habit of
+personification grows in the Indian mind with advancing years. Every old
+Indian speaks in poetic figures. Umatilla had not yet &quot;spoken,&quot; as he
+said; he had been talking in figures, and merely approaching his subject.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause. He then laid down his pipe. He was about to speak:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Woman, open your ears. The Great Spirit lives in women, and old people,
+and little children. He loves the smoke of the wigwam, and the green
+fields of the flowers, and the blue gardens of stars. And he loves
+music&mdash;it is his voice, the whisper of the soul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He spoke in the pine-tops, on the lips of the seas, in the shell, in the
+reed and the war-drum. Then <i>she</i> came. He speaks through <i>her</i>. I want
+<i>her</i> to speak for me. My people are angry. There are butcher-birds among
+them. They hate you&mdash;they hate the cabin of the white man. The white men
+take away their room, overthrow their forests, kill their deer. There is
+danger in the air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The October moon will come. It will grow. It will turn into a sun on the
+border of the night. Then come Potlatch. My people ask for the Dance of
+the Evil One. I no consent&mdash;it means graves.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me have <i>her</i> a moon&mdash;she play on the air. She play at the Potlatch
+for me. She stand by my side. The Great Spirit speak through her. Indians
+listen. They will think of little ones, they will think of departed ones,
+they will think of the hunt&mdash;they will see graves. Then the night will
+pass. Then the smoke will rise again from white man's cabin. Then I die
+in peace, and go home to the Great Spirit and rest. Will you let me have
+her? I <i>have</i> spoken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods comprehended the figurative speech. The old chief wished to
+take Gretchen to his wigwam for a month, and have her play the violin on
+the great night of the Potlatch. He hoped that the influence of the music
+would aid him in preventing the Dance of the Evil Spirits, and a massacre
+of the white settlers. What should she say?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will talk with Gretchen,&quot; she said. &quot;You mean well. I can trust you. We
+will see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose slowly, leaning on his staff, and emptied his pipe. It required a
+resolute will now to cause his withered limbs to move. But his steps
+became free after a little walking, and he moved slowly away. Poor old
+chief of the Cascades! It was something like another Sermon on the Mount
+that he had spoken, but he knew not how closely his heart had caught the
+spirit of the Divine Teacher.</p>
+
+<p>When Gretchen came home from school, Mrs. Woods told her what had
+happened, and what the old chief had asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Woods had returned from the block-houses. He said: &quot;Gretchen, go!
+Your <i>Traumerei</i> will save the colony. Go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen sat in silence for a moment. She then said: &quot;I can trust
+Umatilla. I will go. I want to go. Something unseen is leading me&mdash;I feel
+it. I do not know the way, but I can trust my guide. I have only one
+desire, if I am young, and that is to do right. But is it right to leave
+you, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother!&quot; how sweet that word sounded to poor Mrs. Woods! She had never
+been a mother. Tears filled her eyes&mdash;she forced them back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Gretchen&mdash;go. I've always had to fight my way through the world, and
+I can continue to do so. I've had some things to harden my heart; but, no
+matter what you may do, Gretchen, I'll always be a mother to <i>you</i>. You'll
+always find the latch-string on the outside. You ain't the wust girl that
+ever was, if I did have a hand in bringing you up. Yes&mdash;go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your heart is right now,&quot; said Gretchen; &quot;and I want to speak to you
+about Benjamin. He told me a few days ago that he hated you, but that no
+one should ever harm you, because he loved the Master.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He did, did he?&quot; said Mrs. Woods, starting up. &quot;Well, I hate him, and
+I'll never forgive him for tellin' you such a thing as that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, don't you love <i>the</i> Master, and won't you be friendly and
+forgiving to Benjamin, for <i>his</i> sake? I wish you would. It would give you
+power; I want you to do so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these
+things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Father Lee. The boy has
+some good in him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you would tell him that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sympathy makes one grow so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so, Gretchen. Only praise a dog for his one good quality, and it
+will make a good dog of him. I 'spect 'tis the same with folks. But my
+nature don't break up easy. I shall come out right some time. I tell you
+I'm goin' to have a talk with Father Lee. It is his preachin' that has
+made me what I am, and may be I'll be better by and by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods, with all her affected courage, had good reason to fear an
+Indian outbreak, and to use every influence to prevent it. The very
+mention of the Potlatch filled her with recent terror. She well knew the
+story of the destruction of Whitman and a part of his missionary colony.</p>
+
+<p><i>That</i> was a terrible event, and it was a scene like that that the new
+settlers feared, at the approaching Potlatch; and the thought of that
+dreadful day almost weakened the faith of Mr. Mann in the Indians.</p>
+
+<p>We must tell you the old-time history of the tragedy which was now revived
+in the new settlement.</p>
+
+
+<p><i>THE CONJURED MELONS.</i></p>
+
+<p>Most people who like history are familiar with the national story of
+Marcus Whitman's &quot;Ride for Oregon&quot;<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1" /><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>&mdash;that daring horseback trip across
+the continent, from the Columbia to the Missouri, which enabled him to
+convince the United States Government not only that Oregon could be
+reached, but that it was worth possessing. Exact history has robbed this
+story of some of its romance, but it is still one of the noblest
+wonder-tales of our own or any nation. Monuments and poetry and art must
+forever perpetuate it, for it is full of spiritual meaning.</p>
+
+<p>Lovers of missionary lore have read with delight the ideal romance of the
+two brides who agreed to cross the Rocky Mountains with their husbands,
+Whitman and Spaulding; how one of them sang, in the little country church
+on departing, the whole of the hymn&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Yes, my native land, I love thee,&quot;
+</p>
+
+<p>when the voices of others failed from emotion. They have read how the
+whole party knelt down on the Great Divide, beside the open Bible and
+under the American flag, and took possession of the great empire of the
+Northwest in faith and in imagination, and how history fulfilled the
+dream.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of the coming of the missionaries the Cayuse Indians and
+Nez-Perc&eacute;s occupied the elbow of the Columbia, and the region of the
+musical names of the Wallula, the Walla Walla, and Wa&uuml;laptu. They were a
+superstitious, fierce, and revengful race. They fully believed in
+witchcraft or conjuring, and in the power to work evil through familiar
+spirits. Everything to them and the neighboring tribes had its good or
+evil spirit, or both&mdash;the mountains, the rivers, the forest, the sighing
+cedars, and the whispering firs.</p>
+
+<p>The great plague of the tribes on the middle Columbia was the measles. The
+disease was commonly fatal among them, owing largely to the manner of
+treatment. When an Indian began to show the fever which is characteristic
+of the disease, he was put into and inclosed in a hot clay oven. As soon
+as he was covered with a profuse perspiration he was let out, to leap into
+the cold waters of the Columbia. Usually the plunge was followed by death.</p>
+
+<p>There was a rule among these Indians, in early times, that if the
+&quot;medicine-man&quot; undertook a case and failed to cure, he forfeited his own
+life. The killing of the medicine-man was one of the dramatic and fearful
+episodes of the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>Returning from the East after his famous ride, Whitman built up a noble
+mission station at Wa&uuml;laptu. He was a man of strong character, and of fine
+tastes and ideals. The mission-house was an imposing structure for the
+place and time. It had beautiful trees and gardens, and inspiring
+surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Whitman was a remarkable woman, as intelligent and sympathetic as she
+was heroic. The colony became a prosperous one, and for a time occupied
+the happy valley of the West.</p>
+
+<p>One of the vices of the Cayuse Indians and their neighbors was stealing.
+The mission station may have overawed them for a time into seeming
+honesty, but they began to rob its gardens at last, and out of this
+circumstance comes a story, related to me by an old Territorial officer,
+which may be new to most readers. I do not vouch for it, but only say that
+the narrator of the principal incidents is an old Territorial judge who
+lives near the place of the Whitman tragedy, and who knew many of the
+survivors, and has a large knowledge of the Indian races of the Columbia.
+To his statements I add some incidents of another pioneer:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The thieving Cayuses have made 'way with our melons again,&quot; said a young
+farmer one morning, returning from the gardens of the station. &quot;One theft
+will be followed by another. I know the Cayuses. Is there no way to stop
+them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One of the missionary fraternity was sitting quietly among the trees. It
+was an August morning. The air was a living splendor, clear and warm, with
+now and then a breeze that rippled the leaves like the waves of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up from his book, and considered the question half-seriously,
+half-humorously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know how we used to prevent boys from stealing melons in the East,&quot;
+said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put some tartar emetic in the biggest one. In the morning it would be
+gone, but the boys would never come after any more melons.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young farmer understood the remedy, and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And,&quot; added he, &quot;the boys didn't have much to say about melons after they
+had eaten <i>that</i> one. The subject no longer interested them. I guess the
+Indians would not care for more than one melon of that kind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would like to see a wah-wah of Indian thieves over a melon like that!&quot;
+said the gardener. &quot;I declare, I and the boys will do it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to his work, laughing. That day he obtained some of the emetic
+from the medical stores of the station, and plugged it into three or four
+of the finest melons. Next morning he found that these melons were gone.</p>
+
+<p>The following evening a tall Indian came slowly and solemnly to the
+station. His face had a troubled look, and there was an air of mystery
+about his gait and attitude. He stopped before one of the assistant
+missionaries, drew together his blanket, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some one here no goot. You keep a conjurer in the camp. Indian kill
+conjurer. Conjurer ought die; him danger, him no goot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The laborers gathered round the stately Indian. They all knew about the
+nauseating melons, and guessed why he had come. All laughed as they heard
+his solemn words. The ridicule incensed him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You one conjurer,&quot; he said, &quot;he conjure melons. One moon, two moons, he
+shall die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The laborers laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half moon, more moons, he shall suffer&mdash;half moon, more moons,&quot; that is,
+sooner or later.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary's face grew serious. The tall Indian saw the change of
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Braves sick.&quot; He spread out his blanket and folded it again like wings.
+&quot;Braves double up <i>so</i>&quot;&mdash;he bent over, opening and folding his blanket.
+&quot;Braves conjured; melon conjured&mdash;white man conjure. Indian kill him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a puzzled look on all faces.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Braves get well again,&quot; said the missionary, incautiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you <i>know</i>,&quot; said the Indian. &quot;You know&mdash;you conjure. Make
+sick&mdash;make well!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drew his blanket again around him and strode away with an injured look
+in his face, and vanished into the forests.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry for this joke,&quot; said the missionary; &quot;it bodes no good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>November came. The nights were long, and there was a perceptible coolness
+in the air, even in this climate of April days.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Stanfield, a half-breed Canadian and a member of Whitman's family, was
+observed to spend many of the lengthening evenings with the Cayuses in
+their lodges. He had been given a home by Whitman, to whom he had seemed
+for a time devoted.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Lewis, an Indian who had come to Whitman sick and half-clad, and had
+received shelter and work from him, seems to have been on intimate terms
+with Stanfield, and the two became bitter enemies to the mission and
+sought to turn the Cayuses against it, contrary to all the traditions of
+Indian gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>In these bright autumn days of 1847 a great calamity fell upon the Indians
+of the Columbia. It was the plague. This disease was the terror of the
+Northwestern tribes. The Cayuses caught the infection. Many sickened and
+died, and Whitman was appealed to by the leading Indians to stay the
+disease. He undertook the treatment of a number of cases, but his patients
+died.</p>
+
+<p>The hunter's moon was now burning low in the sky. The gathering of rich
+harvests of furs had begun, and British and American fur-traders were
+seeking these treasures on every hand. But at the beginning of these
+harvests the Cayuses were sickening and dying, and the mission was
+powerless to stay the pestilence.</p>
+
+<p>A secret council of Cayuses and half-breeds was held one night under the
+hunter's moon near Walla Walla, or else on the Umatilla. Five Crows, the
+warrior, was there with Joe Lewis, of Whitman's household, and Joe
+Stanfield, alike suspicious and treacherous, and old Mungo, the
+interpreter. Sitkas, a leading Indian, may have been present, as the story
+I am to give came in part from him.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Lewis was the principal speaker. Addressing the Cayuses, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The moon brightens; your tents fill with furs. But Death, the robber, is
+among you. Who sends Death among you? The White Chief (Whitman). And why
+does the White Chief send among you Death, the robber, with his poison?
+That he may possess your furs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then why do the white people themselves have the disease?&quot; asked a
+Cayuse.</p>
+
+<p>None could answer. The question had turned Joe Lewis's word against him,
+when a tall Indian arose and spread his blanket open like a wing. He stood
+for a time silent, statuesque, and thoughtful. The men waited seriously
+to hear what he would say.</p>
+
+<p>It was the same Indian who had appeared at the mission after the joke of
+the plugged melons.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Brothers, listen. The missionaries are conjurers. They conjured the
+melons at Wa&uuml;laptu. They made the melons sick. I went to missionary chief.
+He say, 'I make the melons well.' I leave the braves sick, with their
+faces turned white, when I go to the chief. I return, and they are well
+again. The missionaries conjure the melons, to save their gardens. They
+conjure you now, to get your furs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The evidence was conclusive to the Cayuse mind. The missionaries were
+conjurers. The council resolved that all the medicine-men in the country
+should be put to death, and among the first to perish should be Whitman,
+the conjurer.</p>
+
+<p>Such in effect was the result of the secret council or councils held
+around Wa&uuml;laptu.</p>
+
+<p>Whitman felt the change that had come over the disposition of the tribes,
+but he did not know what was hidden behind the dark curtain. His great
+soul was full of patriotic fire, of love to all men, and zeal for the
+gospel.</p>
+
+<p>He was nothing to himself&mdash;the cause was everything. He rode hither and
+thither on the autumn days and bright nights, engaged in his great work.</p>
+
+<p>He went to Oregon City for supplies.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. McKinley,&quot; he said to a friend, &quot;a Cayuse chief has told me that the
+Indians are about to kill all the medicine-men, and myself among them. I
+think he was jesting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dr. Whitman,&quot; said McKinley, &quot;a Cayuse chief never jests.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was right. The fateful days wore on. The splendid nights glimmered over
+Mount Hood, and glistened on the serrated mountain tents of eternal snow.
+The Indians continued to sicken and die, and the universal suspicion of
+the tribes fell upon Whitman.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a war-cry! The mission ran with blood. Whitman and his
+wife were the first to fall. Then horror succeeded horror, and many of the
+heroic pioneers of the Columbia River perished.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Jesuits have been accused of causing the murder of Whitman,&quot; said one
+historian of Washington to me. &quot;They indignantly deny it. I have studied
+the whole subject for years with this opinion, that the Indian outbreak
+and its tragedies had its origin, and largely gathered its force, from
+the terrible joke of the conjured melons.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was the evidence that must have served greatly to turn the Indian
+mind against one of the bravest men that America has produced, and whose
+name will stand immortal among the heroes of Washington and Oregon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I give this account as a local story, and not as exact history; but this
+tradition was believed by the old people in Washington.</p>
+
+<p>When any one in the new settlement spoke of the Potlatch, this scene came
+up like a shadow. Would it be repeated?</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1" /><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> See Historical <a href="#Whitman_s_Ride">Notes.</a></p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the log school-house, Lewis and Clarke's Expedition was used as a
+reading-book. Master Mann had adopted it because it was easy to obtain,
+and served as a sort of local geography and history.</p>
+
+<p>In this book is an account of a great black eagle's nest, on the Falls of
+the Missouri; and the incident seemed intensely to interest the
+picturesque mind of Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us go see,&quot; said Benjamin, one day after this poetic part of Lewis
+and Clarke's narrative had been read.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean?&quot; asked Mr. Mann.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I carry canoe, and we go and find him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The black eagle's nest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll get a plume&mdash;wear it here. Please father. I love to please father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was to be a few weeks' vacation in a part of September and October,
+and Benjamin's suggestion led Mr. Mann to plan an excursion to the Falls
+of the Missouri at that time. The old chief would be glad to have Benjamin
+go with him and help hunt, and carry the canoe. They would follow the
+Salmon River out of the Columbia, to a point near the then called
+Jefferson River, and so pass the mountains, and launch themselves on the
+Missouri, whence the way would be easy to the Falls.</p>
+
+<p>The dream of this expedition seemed to make Benjamin perfectly happy. He
+had already been over a part of this territory, with his father, on a
+visit to the friendly tribes.</p>
+
+<p>The mid-autumn in the valleys of the Columbia and Missouri Rivers is
+serene, and yet kindles, with a sort of fiery splendor. The perfect days
+of America are here.</p>
+
+<p>Master Mann and Benjamin started on their expedition with a few Indians,
+who were to see them to the Jefferson River and there leave them.</p>
+
+<p>The Yankee schoolmaster had a prophetic soul, and he felt that he was
+treading the territory of future empires.</p>
+
+<p>Launched on the Missouri, the thought of what the vast plains might become
+overwhelmed him at times, and he would lie silent in his boat, and pray
+and dream.</p>
+
+<p>The soul of the Indian boy seemed as bright as the golden air of the
+cloudless days, during most of the time on the Salmon River, and while
+passing through the mountains. But he would sometimes start up suddenly,
+and a shade would settle on his face.</p>
+
+<p>Master Mann noticed these sudden changes of mood, and he once said to him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What makes you turn sad, Benjamin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Potlatch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that is a dance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hawks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think not, Benjamin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not know. They have a bitter heart. My father does not sleep. It
+is you that keeps him awake. He loves you; you love me and treat me well;
+he loves you, and want to treat you well&mdash;see. <i>She</i> make trouble. Indians
+meet at night&mdash;talk bitter. They own the land. They have rights. They
+threaten. Father no sleep. Sorry.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<h4><i>THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI.</i></h4>
+
+<p>The Falls of the Missouri are not only wonderful and beautiful, but they
+abound with grand traditions. Before we follow our young explorer to the
+place, let us give you, good reader, some views of this part of Montana as
+it was and as it now appears.</p>
+
+<p>We recently looked out on the island that once lifted the great black
+eagle's nest over the plunging torrent of water&mdash;the nest famous,
+doubtless, among the Indians, long before the days of Lewis and Clarke.</p>
+
+<p>We were shown, in the city of Great Falls, a mounted eagle, which, it was
+claimed, came from this nest amid the mists and rainbows. The fall near
+this island, in the surges, is now known as the Black Eagle's Fall.</p>
+
+<p>This waterfall has not the beauty or the grandeur of the other
+cataracts&mdash;the Rainbow Falls and the Great Falls&mdash;a few miles distant. But
+it gathers the spell of poetic tradition about it, and strongly appeals to
+the sense of the artist and the poet. The romancer would choose it for his
+work, as the black eagles chose it for their home.</p>
+
+<p>Near it is one of the most lovely fountains in the world, called the Giant
+Spring.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Close beside the great Missouri,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Ere it takes its second leap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is a spring of sparkling water<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Like a river broad and deep.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The spring pours out of the earth near the fall in a great natural
+fountain, emerald-green, clear as crystal, bordered with water-cresses,
+and mingles its waters with the clouded surges of the Missouri. If a
+person looks down into this fountain from a point near enough for him to
+touch his nose to the water, all the fairy-like scenes of the Silver
+Springs and the Waukulla Spring in Florida appear. The royal halls and
+chambers of Undine meet the view, with gardens of emeralds and gem-bearing
+ferns. It kindles one's fancy to gaze long into these crystal caverns, and
+a practical mind could hardly resist here the poetic sense of Fouqu&eacute; that
+created Undine.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Eagle Falls, with its great nest and marvelous fountains, was a
+favorite resort of the Blackfeet Indians and other Indian tribes. It is
+related in the old traditions that the Piegans, on one of their
+expeditions against the Crows, rested here, and became enchanted with the
+fountain:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Hither came the warrior Piegans<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On their way to fight the Crow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stood upon its verge, and wondered<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">What could mean the power below.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The Piegans were filled with awe that the fountain rose and fell and
+gurgled, as if in spasms of pain. They sent for a native medicine-man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is the fountain troubled?&quot; they asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This,&quot; said the Indian prophet, &quot;is the pure stream that flows through
+the earth to the sun. It asks for offerings. We cast the spoils of war
+into it, and it carries them away to the Sun's <i>tepee</i>, and the Sun is
+glad, and so shines for us all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Blackfeet worshiped the Sun. The Sun River, a few miles above this
+cataract, was a medicine or sacred river in the tribal days, and it was in
+this region of gleaming streams and thundering waterfalls that the once
+famous Sun-dances were held.</p>
+
+<p>There was a barbarous splendor about these Sun-dances. The tribes gathered
+for the festival in the long, bright days of the year. They wore ornaments
+of crystal, quartz, and mica, such as would attract and reflect the rays
+of the sun. The dance was a glimmering maze of reflections. As it reached
+its height, gleaming arrows were shot into the air. Above them, in their
+poetic vision, sat the Sun in his <i>tepee</i>. They held that the thunder was
+caused by the wings of a great invisible bird. Often, at the close of the
+Sun-dance on the sultry days, the clouds would gather, and the
+thunder-bird would shake its wings above them and cool the air. Delightful
+times were these old festivals on the Missouri. At evening, in the long
+Northern twilights, they would recount the traditions of the past. Some of
+the old tales of the Blackfeet, Piegans, and Chippewas, are as charming as
+those of La Fontaine.</p>
+
+<p>The Rainbow Falls are far more beautiful than those of the Black Eagle.
+They are some six miles from the new city of Great Falls. A long stairway
+of two hundred or more steps conducts the tourist into their very
+mist-land of rocks and surges. Here one is almost deafened by the thunder.
+When the sun is shining, the air is glorious with rainbows, that haunt the
+mists like a poet's dream.</p>
+
+<p>The Great Fall, some twelve miles from the city, plunges nearly a hundred
+feet, and has a roar like that of Niagara. It is one of the greatest
+water-powers of the continent.</p>
+
+<p>The city of Great Falls is leaping into life in a legend-haunted region.
+Its horizon is a borderland of wonders. Afar off gleam the Highwood
+Mountains, with roofs of glistening snow. Buttes (hills with level tops)
+rise like giant pyramids here and there, and one may almost imagine that
+he is in the land of the Pharaohs. Bench lands diversify the wide plains.
+Ranches and great flocks are everywhere; armies of cattle; creeks shaded
+with cottonwood and box-elder; birds and flowers; and golden eagles
+gleaming in the air. The Rockies wall the northern plains.</p>
+
+<p>The Belt Mountain region near Great Falls is a wonder-land, like the
+Garden of the Gods in Colorado, or the Goblin Land near the Yellowstone.
+It would seem that it ought to be made a State park. Here one fancies
+one's self to be amid the ruins of castles, cathedrals, and fortresses, so
+fantastic are the shapes of the broken mountain-walls. It is a land of
+birds and flowers; of rock roses, wild sunflowers, golden-rods; of
+wax-wings, orioles, sparrows, and eagles. Here roams the stealthy mountain
+lion.</p>
+
+<p>This region, too, has its delightful legends.</p>
+
+<p>One of these legends will awaken great curiosity as the State of Montana
+grows, and she seems destined to become the monarch of States.</p>
+
+<p>In 1742 Sieur de la Verendrye, the French Governor of Quebec, sent out an
+expedition, under his sons and brother, that discovered the Rocky
+Mountains, which were named <i>La Montana Roches</i>. On the 12th of May, 1744,
+this expedition visited the upper Missouri, and planted on an eminence,
+probably in the near region of Great Falls, a leaden plate bearing the
+arms of France, and raised a monument above it, which the Verendryes named
+<i>Beauharnois</i>. It is stated that this monument was erected on a
+river-bluff, between bowlders, and that it was twenty feet in diameter.</p>
+
+<p>There are people who claim to have discovered this monument, but they fail
+to produce the leaden plate with the arms of France that the explorers
+buried. The search for this hidden plate will one day begin, and the
+subject is likely greatly to interest historical societies in Montana, and
+to become a very poetic mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Into this wonder-land of waterfalls, sun-dances, and legends, our young
+explorers came, now paddling in their airy canoe, now bearing the canoe on
+their backs around the falls.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann's white face was a surprise to the native tribes that they met on
+the way, but Benjamin's brightness and friendly ways made the journey of
+both easy.</p>
+
+<p>They came to the Black Eagle Falls. The great nest still was there. It was
+as is described in the book of the early explorers.</p>
+
+<p>It hung over the mists of the rapids, and, strangely enough, there were
+revealed three black plumes in the nest.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin beheld these plumes with a kind of religious awe. His eyes
+dilated as he pointed to them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are for me,&quot; he said. &quot;One for me, one for father, and one for you.
+I'll get them all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He glided along a shelf of rocks toward the little island, and mounted the
+tree. The black eagles were yet there, though their nest was empty. He
+passed up the tree under the wings of the eagles, and came down with a
+handful of feathers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The book was true,&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>They went to Medicine River, now called the Sun River, and there witnessed
+a Sun-dance.</p>
+
+<p>It was a scene to tempt a brilliant painter or poet. The chiefs and
+warriors were arrayed in crystals, quartz, and every bright product of the
+earth and river that would reflect the glory of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>They returned from where the city of Great Falls is now, back to the
+mountains and to the tributaries of the Columbia. Benjamin appeared
+before his father, on his return, with a crest of black eagle's plumes,
+and this crest the young Indian knight wore until the day of his death.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall wear mine always,&quot; he said to his father. &quot;You wear yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said his father, with a face that showed a full heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Both together,&quot; said Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Both together,&quot; replied Umatilla.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Always?&quot; said Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Always,&quot; answered the chief.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians remembered these words. Somehow there seemed to be something
+prophetic in them. Wherever, from that day, Umatilla or Young Eagle's
+Plume was seen, each wore the black feather from the great eagle's nest,
+amid the mists and rainbows or mist-bows of the Falls of the Missouri.</p>
+
+<p>It was a touch of poetic sentiment, but these Indian races of the Columbia
+lived in a region that was itself a school of poetry. The Potlatch was
+sentiment, and the Sun-dance was an actual poem. Many of the tents of skin
+abounded with picture-writing, and the stories told by the night fires
+were full of picturesque figures.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen's poetic eye found subjects for verse in all these things, and
+she often wrote down her impressions, and read them to practical Mrs.
+Woods, who affected to ignore such things, but yet seemed secretly
+delighted with them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have <i>talons</i>&quot; she used to say, &quot;but they don't amount to anything,
+anyway. Nevertheless&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The expedition to the Falls of the Missouri, and the new and strange
+sights which Benjamin saw there, led him to desire to make other trips
+with the schoolmaster, to whom he became daily more and more attached. In
+fact, the Indian boy came to follow his teacher about with a kind of
+jealous watchfulness. He seemed to be perfectly happy when the latter was
+with him, and, when absent from him, he talked of him more than of any
+other person.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of autumn the sky was often clouded with wild geese, which
+in V-shaped flocks passed in long processions overhead, <i>honking</i> in a
+trumpet-like manner. Sometimes a flock of snowy geese would be seen, and
+the laughing goose would be heard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where do they go?&quot; said Mr. Mann one day to Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>The boy told him of a wonderful island, now known as Whidby, where there
+were great gatherings of flocks of geese in the fall.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let's go see,&quot; said he. &quot;The geese are thicker than the bushes there&mdash;the
+ponds are all alive with them there&mdash;honk&mdash;honk&mdash;honk! Let's go see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When the school is over for the fall we will go,&quot; said Mr. Mann.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian boy's face beamed with delight. He dreamed of another
+expedition like that to the wonderful Falls. He would there show the
+master the great water cities of the wild geese, the emigrants of the air.
+The thought of it made him dance with delight.</p>
+
+<p>Often at nightfall great flocks of the Canada geese would follow the
+Columbia towards the sea. Benjamin would watch them with a heart full of
+anticipation. It made him supremely happy to show the master the wonderful
+things of the beautiful country, and the one ambition of his heart now was
+to go to the lakes of the <i>honks</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Go to the chief's lodge, Gretchen, and stay until the Potlatch, and I
+will come to visit you.&quot; Such were the words of Mrs. Woods, as her final
+decision, after long considering the chief's request.</p>
+
+<p>The forest lodge of the old chief of the Cascades was picturesque without
+and within. Outwardly, it was a mere tent of skins and curious
+pictography, under the shadows of gigantic trees, looking down on the
+glistening waters of the Columbia; inwardly, it was a museum of relics of
+the supposed era of the giant-killers, and of the deep regions of the
+tooth and claw; of Potlatches, masques and charms of <i>medas</i> and
+<i>wabenoes</i>; of curious pipes; of odd, curious feathers, and beautiful
+shells and feather-work and pearls. But, though all things here were rude
+and primitive, the old chief had a strong poetic sense, and the place and
+the arrangement of everything in it were very picturesque in its effect,
+and would have delighted an artist. On a hill near were grave-posts, and a
+sacred grove, in which were bark coffins in trees. Near by was an open
+field where the Indian hunters were accustomed to gather their peltries,
+and where visiting bands of Indians came to be hospitably entertained, and
+feasts were given <i>&agrave; la mode de sauvage</i>. From the plateau of the royal
+lodge ran long forest trails and pathways of blazed trees; and near the
+opening to the tent rose two poles, to indicate the royal rank of the
+occupant. These were ornamented with ideographic devices of a historical
+and religious character.</p>
+
+<p>The family of Umatilla consisted of his squaw, an old woman partly
+demented, and Benjamin, who was now much of the time away with the
+schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief was very kind to his unfortunate wife, and treated her like
+a child or a doll. Benjamin was about to take as his bride an Indian girl
+whom the English called Fair Cloud, and she was a frequent visitor at the
+tent.</p>
+
+<p>To this patriarchal family Gretchen came one day, bringing her violin.
+Fair Cloud was there to receive her, and the crazy old squaw seemed to be
+made happy by the sight of her white face, and she did all that she could
+in her simple way to make her welcome. She gave her ornaments of shells,
+and pointed out to her a wabeno-tree, in whose tops spirits were supposed
+to whisper, and around which Indian visitors sometimes danced in the
+summer evenings.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian maid was eager to hear the violin, but the old chief said: &quot;It
+is the voice of the Merciful; let it be still&mdash;the god should not speak
+much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He seemed to wish to reserve the influence of the instrument for the
+Potlatch, to make it an object of wonder and veneration for a time, that
+its voice might be more magical when it should be heard.</p>
+
+<p>There was a kind of tambourine, ornamented with fan-like feathers, in the
+lodge. Fair Cloud used to play upon it, or rather shake it in a rhythmic
+way. There was also a war-drum in the lodge, and an Indian called
+Blackhoof used to beat it, and say:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;I walk upon the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My war-drum 'tis you hear;<br /></span>
+<span>When the sun goes out at noon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My war-drum 'tis you hear!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;When fork&egrave;d lightnings flash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My war-drum 'tis you hear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I walk upon the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And call the clouds; be still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My war-drum 'tis you hear!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The tribes of the Oregon at this time were numerous but small. They
+consisted chiefly of the Chinooks, Vancouvers, the Walla Wallas, the
+Yacomars, the Spokans, the Cayuses, the Nez-Perc&eacute;s, the Skagits, the
+Cascades, and many tribes that were scarcely more than families. They were
+for the most part friendly with each other, and they found in the Oregon
+or Columbia a common fishing-ground, and a water-way to all their
+territories. They lived easily. The woods were full of game, and the river
+of salmon, and berries loaded the plateaus. Red whortleberries filled the
+woodland pastures and blackberries the margins of the woods.</p>
+
+<p>The climate was an almost continuous April; there was a cloudy season in
+winter with rainy nights, but the Japanese winds ate up the snows, and the
+ponies grazed out of doors in mid-winter, and spring came in February. It
+was almost an ideal existence that these old tribes or families of Indians
+lived.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="An_Indian_village" id="An_Indian_village" /><a href="./images/130.jpg"><img src="./images/130-tb.jpg" alt="An Indian village on the Columbia." title="An Indian village on the Columbia." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>An Indian village on the Columbia.</i></p>
+
+<p>Among the early friends of these people was Dick Trevette, whose tomb
+startles the tourist on the Columbia as he passes Mamaloose, or the Island
+of the Dead. He died in California, and his last request was that he might
+be buried in the Indian graveyard on the Columbia River, among a race
+whose hearts had always been true to him.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief taught Gretchen to fish in the Columbia, and the withered
+crone cooked the fish that she caught.</p>
+
+<p>Strange visitors came to the lodge, among them an Indian girl who brought
+her old, withered father strapped upon her back. The aged Indian wished to
+pay his last respects to Umatilla.</p>
+
+<p>Indians of other tribes came, and they were usually entertained at a
+feast, and in the evening were invited to dance about the whispering tree.</p>
+
+<p>The song for the reception of strangers, which was sung at the dance, was
+curious, and it was accompanied by striking the hand upon the breast over
+the heart at the words &quot;Here, here, here&quot;:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;You resemble a friend of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A friend I would have in my heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here, here, <i>here</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;My heart is linked to thine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You are like a friend of mine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here, here, <i>here</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Are we not brothers, then;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shall we not meet again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here, here, <i>here</i>?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Mi, yes, we brothers be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So my fond heart sings to thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here, here, <i>here</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Ah! yes, we brothers be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Will you not answer me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here, here, <i>here</i>?&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Gretchen was happy in the new kind of life. She did not fear the Indians;
+in fact, the thing that she feared most was the promised visit of Mrs.
+Woods. She was sure that her foster-mother's spirit would change toward
+the Indians, but the change had not yet come.</p>
+
+<p>One evening the schoolmaster came to call. He was bent upon a mission, as
+always. The family gave him a seat outside of the tent, and gathered
+around him, and they talked until the stars came out and were mirrored in
+the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>One of the first questions asked by the old chief was, &quot;Is Eagle's Plume
+(Benjamin) brave?&quot; (a good scholar).</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, brave at times; he must learn to be brave always. He must always
+keep his better self. The world would be good if people would learn to
+keep their better selves. Do you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A chief should conquer himself first; obey the will of the Great
+Manitou&mdash;do you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, but how can we know his will?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is his will that we be our best minds. Forgive, and so make bad people
+good, and return good for bad. Do you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, boy, do you see?&quot; (to Benjamin).</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, I see what white man means. But white man do not so. He
+cheat&mdash;he kill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Boston tilicum</i>, what do you say?&quot; asked the chief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;White man does not follow his best heart when he cheats and kills. It is
+wrong. All men should be brothers&mdash;see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I have tried to be a brother. I have no shed blood&mdash;I live in
+peace&mdash;like yonder river. The stars love to shine on the peaceful river.
+Benjamin will learn. I go away when the swallows go, and no more come when
+the swallows bring the spring on their wings again. Teach Benjamin to be
+his good self all the time; make him good <i>here</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All the Indian visitors who came to the place examined the violin
+cautiously, and the Indian hunters seemed to regard Gretchen with
+suspicion. When any asked her to play for them, the old chief would
+answer: &quot;Not now, but at the Potlatch&mdash;then it speak and you will hear;
+you will hear what it says.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But, of all the people that came to the lodge, no one could have been more
+curious than Mrs. Woods. She had been living in terror of the threatened
+events of the October feast, and yet she wished to make the Indians
+believe that she was indifferent to their ill-will, and that she possessed
+some hidden power that gave her security.</p>
+
+<p>She approached the lodge slowly on the occasion of her visit, picking red
+whortleberries by the way. Benjamin watched her nervous motions, and felt
+that they implied a want of respect, and he grew silent and looked
+stoical. Gretchen went out to meet her, and brought her to the old chief.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="Afar_loomed_Mount_Hood" id="Afar_loomed_Mount_Hood" /><a href="./images/135.jpg"><img src="./images/135-tb.jpg" alt="Afar loomed Mount Hood." title="Afar loomed Mount Hood." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>Afar loomed Mount Hood.</i></p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful day, one of those long dreams of golden splendor that
+glorify the banks of the Oregon. Eccentric Victor Trevette and his Indian
+wife were at the lodge, and the company were joined by the Rev. Jason Lee,
+who had come up the Columbia in the interests of the mission in the
+Willamette Valley. Seattle<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2" /><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> was there, from the Willamette, then
+young, and not yet the titular chief of Governor Stevens.<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3" /><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> It was a
+company of diverse spirits&mdash;Trevette, the reputed gambler, but the true
+friend of the Indian races; Lee, who had beheld Oregon in his early
+visions, and now saw the future of the mountain-domed country in dreams;
+sharp-tongued but industrious and warm-hearted Mrs. Woods; the musical
+German girl, with memories of the Rhine; and the Indian chief and his
+family. The Columbia rolled below the tall palisades, the opposite bank
+was full of cool shadows of overhanging rocks, sunless retreats, and
+dripping cascades of glacier-water. Afar loomed Mount Hood in grandeur
+unsurpassed, if we except Tacoma, inswathed in forests and covered with
+crystal crowns. The Chinook winds were blowing coolly, coming from the
+Kuro Siwo, or placid ocean-river from Japan; odoriferous, as though
+spice-laden from the flowery isles of the Yellow Sea. Warm in winter, cool
+in summer, like the Gulf winds of Floridian shores, the good angel of the
+Puget Sea territories is the Chinook wind from far Asia, a mysterious
+country, of which the old chief and his family knew no more than of the
+blessed isles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a day of the Great Manitou,&quot; said the old chief. &quot;He lights the
+sun, and lifts his wings for a shadow, and breathes on the earth. He fills
+our hearts with peace. I am glad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I only wish my people in the East knew how wonderful this country is,&quot;
+said Jason Lee. &quot;I am blamed and distrusted because I leave my mission
+work to see what great resources here await mankind. I do it only for the
+good of others&mdash;something within me impels me to do it, yet they say I
+neglect my work to become a political pioneer. As well might they censure
+Joshua.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As a missionary,&quot; said the old hunter, &quot;you would teach the Indians
+truth; as a pioneer, you would bring colonies here to rob them of their
+lands and rights. I can respect the missionary, but not the pioneer. See
+the happiness of all these tribal families. Benjamin is right&mdash;Mrs. Woods
+has no business here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Adventurer,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, rising upon her feet, &quot;I am a
+working-woman&mdash;I came out here to work and improve the country, and you
+came here to live on your Injun wife. The world belongs to those who work,
+and not to the idle. It is running water that freshens the earth. Husband
+and I built our house with our own hands, and I made my garden with my own
+hands, and I have defended my property with my own hands against bears
+and Injuns, and have kept husband to work at the block-house to earn money
+for the day of trouble and helplessness that is sure some day to come to
+us all. I raise my own garden-sass and all other sass. I'm an honest
+woman, that's what I am, and have asked nothing in the world but what I
+have earned, and don't you dare to question my rights to anything I
+possess! I never had a dollar that I did not earn, and that honestly, and
+what is mine is mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be careful, woman,&quot; said the hunter. &quot;It will not be yours very long
+unless you have a different temper and tongue. There are black wings in
+the sky, and you would not be so cool if you had heard the things that
+have come to my ears.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was secretly alarmed. She felt that her assumed boldness was
+insincere, and that any insincerity is weakness. She glanced up a long
+ladder of rods or poles which were hung with Potlatch masks&mdash;fearful and
+merciless visages, fit to cover the faces of crime. She had heard that
+Umatilla would never put on a mask himself, although he allowed the custom
+at the tribal dances. Mrs. Woods dropped her black eyes from the ominous
+masks to the honest face of the chief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There,&quot; said she, lifting her arm, &quot;there sits an honest man. He never
+covered his heart with a mask&mdash;he never covered his face with a mask. He
+has promised me protection. He has promised to protect the school. I can
+trust a man who never wears a mask. Most people wear masks&mdash;Death takes
+the masks away; when Death comes to Umatilla, he will find great Umatilla
+only, fearless and noble&mdash;honest and true, but no mask. He never wore a
+mask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, woman,&quot; said Umatilla, &quot;you are wearing a mask; you are afraid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, but I can trust your word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You seek to please me for your own good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;but, Umatilla, I can trust your word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The word of Umatilla was never broken. Death will come to Umatilla for
+his mask, and will go away with an empty hand. I have tried to make my
+people better.&mdash;Brother Lee, you have come here to instruct me&mdash;I honor
+you. Listen to an old Indian's story. Sit down all. I have something that
+I would say to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The company sat down and listened to the old chief. They expected that he
+would speak in a parable, and he did. He told them in Chinook the story of</p>
+
+
+<h4><i>THE WOLF BROTHER.</i></h4>
+
+<p>An old Indian hunter was dying in his lodge. The barks were lifted to
+admit the air. The winds of the seas came and revived him, and he called
+his three children to him and made his last bequests.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My son,&quot; he said, &quot;I am going out into the unknown life whence I came.
+Give yourself to those who need you most, and always be true to your
+younger brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My daughter,&quot; he said, &quot;be a mother to your younger brother. Give him
+your love, or for want of it he may become lonely and as savage as the
+animals are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two older children promised, and the father died at sunset, and went
+into the unknown life whence he came.</p>
+
+<p>The old Indian had lived apart from the villages of men for the sake of
+peace; but now, after his death, the oldest son sought the villages and he
+desired to live in them. &quot;My sister,&quot; he said, &quot;can look out for my little
+brother. I must look out for myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the sister tired of solitude, and longed to go to the villages. So one
+day she said to her little brother: &quot;I am going away to find our brother
+who has taken up his abode in the villages. I will come back in a few
+moons. Stay you here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But she married in the villages, and did not return.</p>
+
+<p>The little brother was left all alone, and lived on roots and berries. He
+one day found a den of young wolves and fed them, and the mother-wolf
+seemed so friendly that he visited her daily. So he made the acquaintance
+of the great wolf family, and came to like them, and roam about with them,
+and he no longer was lonesome or wished for the company of men.</p>
+
+<p>One day the pack of wolves came near the villages, and the little boy saw
+his brother fishing and his sister weaving under a tree. He drew near
+them, and they recognized him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come to us, little brother,&quot; said they, sorry that they had left him to
+the animals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;no!&quot; said he. &quot;I would rather be a wolf. The wolves have been kinder
+to me than you.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;My brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am turning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">am turning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Into a wolf.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You made me so!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;My sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am turning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am turning<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Into a wolf.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You made me so!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;O little brother, forgive me,&quot; said the sister; &quot;forgive me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is too late now. See, I <i>am</i> a wolf!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He howled, and ran away with the pack of wolves, and they never saw him
+again.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&quot;Jason Lee, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become like the
+little brother.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Victor Trevette, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become
+like the little brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tall form of Marlowe Mann now appeared before the open entrance of the
+lodge. The Yankee schoolmaster had been listening to the story. The old
+chief bent his eye upon him, and said, &quot;And, Boston tilicum, do you be
+good to Benjamin when I am gone, so that he shall not become like the
+little brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may play, Gretchen, now&mdash;it is a solemn hour; the voices of the gods
+should speak.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen took her violin. Standing near the door of the tent, she raised
+it to her arm, and the strains of some old German music rose in the
+glimmering air, and drifted over the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think that there are worlds around this,&quot; said the old chief. &quot;The
+Great Spirit is good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sun was going down. High in the air the wild fowls were flying, with
+the bright light yet on their wings. The glaciers of Mount Hood were
+flushed with crimson&mdash;a sea of glass mingled with fire. It was a pastoral
+scene; in it the old history of Oregon was coming to an end, after the
+mysteries of a thousand years, and the new history of civilization was
+beginning.</p>
+
+<p>Evening came, and the company dispersed, but the old chief and Gretchen
+sat down outside of the tent, and listened to the murmuring music of the
+Dalles of the Columbia, and breathed the vital air. The Columbia is a mile
+wide in some places, but it narrows at the Dalles, or shelves and pours
+over the stone steps the gathered force of its many tides and streams.
+Across the river a waterfall filled the air with misty beauty, and a
+castellated crag arose solitary and solemn&mdash;the remnant of some great
+upheaval in the volcanic ages.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="A_castellated_crag_arose" id="A_castellated_crag_arose" /><a href="./images/142.jpg"><img src="./images/142-tb.jpg" alt="A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn." title="A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn.</i></p>
+
+<p>The red ashes of the sunset lingered after the fires of the long day had
+gone down, and the stars came out slowly. The old chief was sad and
+thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sit down by my feet, my child,&quot; he said to Gretchen, or in words of this
+meaning. &quot;I have been thinking what it is that makes the music in the
+violin. Let us talk together, for something whispers in the leaves that my
+days are almost done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me get the violin and play to you, father; we are alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes; get the music, child, and you shall play, and we will talk. You
+shall sit down at my feet and play, and we will talk. Go, my little
+spirit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen brought her violin, and sat down at his feet and tuned it. She
+then drew her bow, and threw on the air a haunting strain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop there, little spirit. It is beautiful. But what made it beautiful?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My bow&mdash;don't you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen drew her bow, and again lifted the same haunting air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;no&mdash;my girl&mdash;not the bow&mdash;something behind the bow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The strings?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;no&mdash;something behind the strings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My fingers&mdash;so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;no&mdash;something behind the fingers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My head&mdash;<i>here</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;something behind that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My heart?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;no&mdash;something behind that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;you, but something behind that. I have not seen it, my girl&mdash;your
+spirit. It is that that makes the music; but there is something behind
+that. I can feel what I can not see. I am going away, girl&mdash;going away to
+the source of the stream. Then I will know everything good is
+beautiful&mdash;it is good that makes you beautiful, and the music beautiful.
+It is good that makes the river beautiful, and the stars. I am going away
+where all is beautiful. When I am gone, teach my poor people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen drew his red hand to her lips and kissed it. The chief bent low
+his plumed head and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was so beautiful, my little spirit, that I am in a haste to go. One
+moon, and I will go. Play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen obeyed. When the strain died, the two sat and listened to the
+murmuring of the waters, as the river glided down the shelves, and both of
+them felt that the Spirit of Eternal Goodness with a Father's love
+watched over everything.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief rose, and said again:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I am gone to my fathers, teach my poor people.&quot; He added: &quot;The voice
+of the good spirits ask it&mdash;the All-Good asks it&mdash;I shall go away&mdash;to the
+land whence the light comes. You stay&mdash;teach. You will?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Gretchen&mdash;a consciousness of her true calling in life coming
+upon her, as in an open vision&mdash;&quot;I will be their teacher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief seemed satisfied, and said: &quot;It is well; I am going away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Much of the chief's talk was acted. If he wished to speak of a star, he
+would point to it; and he would imitate a bird's call to designate a bird,
+and the gurgle of water when speaking of a running stream. He spoke
+Chinook freely, and to see him when he was speaking was to learn from his
+motions his meaning.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2" /><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> See Historical <a href="#Chief_Seattle">Notes.</a></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3" /><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> See Historical <a href="#Stevens">Notes.</a></p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE ROLL OVER AGAIN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One day Rev. Jason Lee came up from the Cascades, in a boat, to visit Mr.
+and Mrs. Woods on their donation claim. Mr. Lee at this tine was inspired
+with missionary zeal for the Indians, and he remembered Mrs. Woods kindly
+as an ignorant but earnest and teachable woman, whom the influence of his
+preaching had brought to his spiritual flock. He knew her needs of counsel
+and help, he pitied her hard and lonely life, and he came to visit her
+from time to time.</p>
+
+<p>He had once given her a copy of Wesley's Hymns, and these hymns she had
+unconsciously learned, and delighted to quote on all occasions. Her
+favorite hymn in the collection was written by Thomas Olivers, one of
+Wesley's coadjutors, beginning&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&quot;The God of Abrah'm praise.&quot;</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>She used to sing it often about her work; and one approaching the cabin,
+might often have heard her trying to sing to the old Hebrew melody of
+<i>Leoniel</i>&mdash;a tune perhaps as old as the Jewish Temple itself&mdash;such sublime
+thoughts as these&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;The God of Abrah'm praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">At whose supreme command<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From earth I rise, and seek the joys<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">At his right hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I all on earth forsake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Its wisdom, fame, and power;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And him my only portion make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">My shield and tower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;He by himself hath sworn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I on his oath depend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I shall, on eagles' wings upborne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To heaven ascend:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I shall behold his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I shall his power adore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sing the wonders of his grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Forever more.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Another favorite hymn, in an easy metre, was John Wesley's triumphant
+review of life in his middle age. The tune, although marked in the
+music-books C.P.M., and thus indicating some difficulty, was really as
+simple as it was lively, and carried the voice along like the music of a
+meadow stream:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;How happy is the pilgrim's lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How free from every anxious thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">From worldly hope and fear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Confined to neither court nor cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His soul disdains on earth to dwell&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">He only sojourns here.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was singing as usual about her work, when Jason Lee rapped at
+her door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father Lee,&quot; said Mrs. Woods, &quot;can I trust my eyes!&mdash;come again to see
+me, away out here in the timber? Well, you are welcome. I have got
+something on my mind, and I have long been wanting to have a talk with
+you. How is the mission at the Dalles?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is prospering, but I regard it as my duty to leave it and go back to
+the East; and this may be my farewell visit, though I expect to come back
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Father Lee, what has changed your mind? You surely can not think it
+your duty to leave this great country in the Oregon! You are needed here
+if anywhere in this world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, but it is on account of this country on the Oregon being great, as
+you call it, that I must go away. It was once my calling in life to become
+a missionary to the Indians of Oregon, and to see this wonderful land. The
+same Voice that called me to that work calls me again to go back to tell
+the people of the East of their great opportunity here. I owe it to my
+country's future to do this. I have eaten the grapes of a promised land,
+and I must return to my own people with the good report. I believe that
+the best life of America will yet be here&mdash;it seems to be so revealed to
+me. My mission was to the Indians; it is now to induce colonies to come to
+the Oregon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, each heart knows its own calling and duty, and none of us are led
+alike. Father Lee, Gretchen has been reprovin' me, though she shouldn't,
+perhaps, being a girl. She was sassy to me, but she meant well. She is a
+well-meanin' girl, though I have to be hard on her sometimes&mdash;it is my
+duty to be, you know.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, some months ago, more than a year, an Injun ran away with my best
+saw, and that gave me a prejudice against the Injuns, I suppose.
+Afterward, Young Eagle's Plume&mdash;Benjamin, the chief's boy&mdash;insulted me
+before the school by takin' a stick out of my hand, and I came to dislike
+him, and he hates me. There are many Injuns in the timber now, and they
+all cast evil looks at me whenever I meet them, and these things hint that
+they are goin' to capture me at the Potlatch and carry me away. I hate
+Injuns.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But Gretchen has told me a thing that touches my feelin's. She says that
+Benjamin he says that he will protect me on account of his love for the
+master; and that, on account of my love for the good Master of us all and
+his cause, I ought to show a different spirit toward the Injuns. What do
+you think?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen is right, although a girl should be modest with her elders.
+Hatred only multiplies itself; when one overcomes his evil passions he
+gains others, and loses nothing. Do you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I am always good to those I like and those who treat me well. Think
+how I used to take care of the sick folk on our way out here, and what I
+have tried to do for Gretchen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?' All people love
+those who love them&mdash;the savages do. To give up one's evil desires, and to
+help others by returning love for hate, is the true life. The best friends
+in the world that we can have are those that we have drawn to our hearts
+by forgiveness. Do something good to every Indian that hates you, and you
+will never be carried away captive.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But Whitman, remember Whitman: he showed the right spirit, and the Injuns
+killed <i>him</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His death was caused by a misapprehension, and it made him a martyr. His
+work lives. Men live in their work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Father Lee, if Benjamin can overcome his evil feelin's for his
+master, I ought to do so for mine, as Gretchen says. My bad spirit in this
+matter has long troubled me; it has caused a cloud to come over me when
+singin' hymns. I will give it all up now&mdash;I will give up everything, and
+just follow the better spirit. I want to do right, so that I can sing
+hymns.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Father Lee left the cabin, Mrs. Woods accompanied him to his boat on
+the river.</p>
+
+<p>As they were passing along under the tall spruces whose tops glimmered in
+the sun, and whose cool shadows made the trail delightful and refreshing,
+a black she-bear suddenly rose up before them, and a cub started up by her
+side. The great bear and the little bear both stood on their haunches,
+with their fore-feet outstretched like arms, as in great surprise. Mrs.
+Woods stopped and threw up her arms, and Parson Lee drew back.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods looked at the little bear, and the little bear at her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Roll over, roll over!&quot; she suddenly exclaimed. A strange event followed,
+very strange indeed in the eyes of the startled missionary. The little
+bear rolled itself into a ball, and began to turn over and over, and to
+come toward them in its somersaults.</p>
+
+<p>The mother bear made a peculiar noise, dropped upon her four feet and ran
+off into the timber; and the little one, hearing the noise and movement,
+leaped up and followed her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What <i>does</i> that mean?&quot; asked the missionary, in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is Little Roll Over. I taught him that trick myself. He was once a
+pet of mine, and he ran away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Extraordinary!&quot; said the missionary; &quot;and it seems to me, if you have
+such a good influence over bears, you might do a great deal of good among
+the Indians.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will,&quot; said Mrs. Woods. &quot;I mean to live so I can sing hymns, and
+feel right about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the return home, Mrs. Woods looked everywhere for her pet bear. She did
+not fear the old bear, for these animals are generally harmless if
+unmolested. She called, &quot;Roll Over! Roll Over!&quot; when she came to the place
+where she had had the adventure. But there was no answer except from the
+blue jays that piped out their shrill call in the tall trees.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods came home to have a long battle with herself. Her idea of
+happiness seemed to be the freedom to sing hymns with a clear conscience,
+and the poor pioneer woman's philosophy was not very far from right.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI" />CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Besides the Narrative of Lewis and Clarke, which was used in the school as
+a reader, Mr. Mann made use of another book in his teaching which greatly
+delighted his pupils and often awakened their sympathies. It was called
+&quot;John E. Jewett and Thompson.&quot; It presented a picture of life on the coast
+early in the century. The strange story was much as follows:</p>
+
+
+<h4><i>THE ROBINSON CRUSOE OF VANCOUVER.</i></h4>
+
+<p>About the year 1802 the ship Boston, from Boston, Mass., went to Hull,
+England, to secure a cargo of goods to carry to the Indians on the
+Northwest coast of America to trade for furs. She was a general
+trading-vessel, such as roamed the seas of the world adventurously at that
+time, and often made fortunes for the merchants of New York, Boston, and
+other Atlantic port cities.</p>
+
+<p>She was commanded by Captain John Salter, a clever man and a natural
+story-teller, whose engaging pictures of travel were sure to fascinate the
+young.</p>
+
+<p>While in England this man met a lad by the name of John Rogers Jewett, who
+listened eagerly to his romantic adventures, and who desired to embark
+with him for America, and was allowed by his parents to make the voyage.
+The ship sailed around Cape Horn to Nootka Island, one of the islands on
+the west coast of Vancouver Island between the forty-ninth and fiftieth
+parallel. Here the whole crew, with the exception of young Jewett and a
+man by the name of Thompson, were massacred by the Indians, and the
+strange and tragic narrative of the survivors was an American and English
+wonder-tale seventy years ago. Mr. Jewett published the account of his
+capture and sufferings, under the title of &quot;John R. Jewett and Thompson,&quot;
+or, to copy the title of the quaint old book before me, &quot;A Narrative of
+the Adventures and Sufferings of John R. Jewett, only Survivor of the Crew
+of the Ship Boston, during a Captivity of nearly Three Years among the
+Savages of Nootka Sound.&quot; The book was issued from London, England, and
+from Middletown, Conn. After Robinson Crusoe, perhaps no book was more
+eagerly read by our grandfathers in their boyhood than this.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian king of Nootka was Maquina. He used to visit the ship,
+sometimes wearing a wooden mask over his face representing some wild
+beast. Such masks are still to be found among the Indians of Vancouver.</p>
+
+<p>Maquina was at first very friendly to Captain Salter, but one day the
+latter offended him, and he resolved to have his revenge by killing him
+and the crew, and destroying the ship. Accordingly, one morning, after he
+had been capering on deck and blowing a rude whistle, he said to the
+captain:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When do you intend to sail?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-morrow,&quot; replied the captain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You love salmon&mdash;much in Friendly Cove; go, then, and catch some,&quot; said
+the chief.</p>
+
+<p>The captain thought it very desirable to have a large supply of fish on
+board, so he assented to the chief's proposal, and, after dinner with the
+latter, he sent away a jolly-boat or yawl with nine men to fish in
+Friendly Cove.</p>
+
+<p>A series of tragedies followed. &quot;I went down to my vise-bench in the
+steerage,&quot; says Mr. Jewett, in his Narrative, &quot;where I was employed in
+cleaning muskets. I had not been there more than an hour, when I heard a
+great bustle and confusion on deck. I ran up the steerage stairs, but
+scarcely was my head above deck when I was caught by the hair by one of
+the savages. My hair was short, and I fell from his hold into the
+steerage. As I was falling, he struck me with an axe and cut a deep gash
+in my forehead. I remained in a state of suspense for some time, when
+Maquina himself appeared at the hatch and ordered me to come up. What a
+terrific spectacle met my eyes! Six naked savages stood in a circle around
+me, covered with the blood of my murdered comrades! I thought that my last
+moment had come, and commended my soul to my Maker.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'John,' said the chief, 'I speak&mdash;you no say no; you say no&mdash;daggers
+come. Will you become my slave and fight for me?' I answered, 'Yes.' Then
+he told me that he would spare my life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Taking me by the hand, he led me to the quarter-deck, where the most
+horrid sight presented itself; the heads of our unfortunate captain and
+his crew, to the number of twenty-five, were arranged in a line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maquina then ordered me to get the ship under way for Friendly Cove. We
+were there received by the inhabitants of the village with loud shouts of
+joy and a horrible drumming of sticks upon the roofs and sides of their
+houses. Maquina took me on shore to his house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Young Jewett became a favorite of the chief's son, and was made a member
+of the tribe. He was compelled to marry an Indian princess, and his search
+for his wife is a wonderful romance, and really very poetic, as the
+marriage customs of the tribes are associated with a rustic festival
+worthy of a painter and poet. The young princess chosen was beautiful, and
+served him with the most affectionate devotion, but he could not love her,
+because he had been compelled to marry her.</p>
+
+<p>The most remarkable incidents of this strange narrative are associated
+with the fate of those who were engaged in the massacre of the officers
+and crew of the Boston, and which show that the experience of retribution
+is a law common to all peoples and lands.</p>
+
+<p>The principal chief or sub-chief among the warriors was Tootooch. He had
+married Maquina's sister. He ranked next to Maquina in all things
+pertaining to war, and he had been the foremost leader and the most
+merciless of conquerors in the destruction of the Boston. He killed two
+men on shore, presumably with his own hand.</p>
+
+<p>Insanity is not common among the Indians. But a terrible mania took
+possession of this ambitious warrior. &quot;While in the enjoyment of the
+highest health,&quot; says Mr. Jewett, &quot;he was suddenly seized with delirium,
+in which he fancied that he saw the ghosts of the two men that he had
+murdered.&quot; The avenging vision followed him wherever he went. He was
+filled with terror at all times, and at last refused to eat to sustain his
+life. The Indians forced food into his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Maquina was informed of the terrible state of the warrior's mind by his
+sister, Tootooch's wife. He went to the haunted man's house, taking Mr.
+Thompson and Mr. Jewett with him. &quot;We found him raving about the two
+murdered men, Hall and Wood,&quot; says Jewett. &quot;Maquina placed provisions
+before him, but he would not eat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At last the distressed <i>tyee</i>, induced by hunger, put forth his hand to
+touch the food. But he suddenly drew it back, saying that Hall and Wood
+were there.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They will not let me eat,&quot; said he, with a look of despair and terror.</p>
+
+<p>Maquina pointed to Thompson and Jewett.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it they who have bewitched you?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Wik</i> (no); John <i>klashish</i> (is good), Thompson <i>klashish</i> (is good).&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He arose and piteously put his hand on Jewett's shoulder, and, pointing to
+the food offered him, he said, &quot;Eat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eat it yourself,&quot; replied Mr. Jewett. &quot;Hall and Wood are not there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can not see them,&quot; he answered; &quot;I can. I know that you can not see
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you do in your own country in such cases as this?&quot; asked Maquina.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We confine the person and whip him,&quot; said Jewett.</p>
+
+<p>The chief ordered that the haunted warrior should be confined and whipped;
+but the pain did not relieve the warrior's mind of the terrible vision of
+the two men that he had killed. He grew more wild. He would torture his
+slaves for diversion. His wife fled from him. The vision continued until
+he became completely exhausted, and Death came with a merciful face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Early in June,&quot; says Mr. Jewett, &quot;Tootooch, the crazy chief, died. The
+whole village set up a loud cry. The body was laid on a plank, and the
+head bound with a red fillet. It was then wrapped in an otter-skin robe
+and placed in a large coffin, which was ornamented with rows of white
+shells. It was buried by night in a cavern.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>tyees</i> or chiefs had discussed often the policy of putting Mr. Jewett
+and Mr. Thompson to death, and so end all evidence of the destruction of
+the Boston in the event of new ships appearing on the coast. But the
+spectacle of Tootooch staring at the ghosts of the men that he had killed,
+and wasting away amid days and nights of horror, made them fear that the
+other warriors engaged in the massacre would become affected in the like
+way, and deterred them from any further violence. Jewett was at last
+rescued by a trading-ship, and was taken to the Columbia River, where he
+arrived shortly after the visit of Lewis and Clarke, of the famous
+expedition that bears these names. He finally came to New England and
+settled in Middletown, Conn. His history gives a very picturesque view of
+the habits and customs of the Indians on the Northwest coast nearly a
+century ago. The book can be found in antiquarian libraries, and should be
+republished in the interest of American folk-lore. The truth of the
+incidents gives the whole narrative a vivid and intense interest; it reads
+like De Foe.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII" />CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One day a man in a buckskin habit came to the door of the school-house and
+looked in upon the school. His face was that of a leader of men, hard and
+powerful; one could see that it feared nothing, and that it looked with
+contempt on whatever was artificial, affected, or insincere. His form had
+the strength and mettle of a pioneer. He rapped a loud, hard rap, and
+said, in a sturdy tone:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I come in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The master welcomed him cordially and courteously, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is Mr. Meek, I believe?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, old Joe Meek, the pioneer&mdash;you have heard of me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes,&quot; said Mr. Mann. &quot;You have caught the spirit of Oregon&mdash;you are
+Oregon. You have made the interest of this great country your life; I
+honor you for it. I feel the same spirit coming over me. What we do here
+is done for a thousand years, for here the great life of the Anglo-Saxon
+race is destined to come. I can see it; I feel it. The morning twilight of
+time is about me. I can hear the Oregon calling&mdash;calling; to teach here is
+a glorious life; the whole of humanity is in it. I have no wish to return
+to the East again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stranger, give me your hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The New England schoolmaster took the hard hand of the old pioneer, and
+the two stood there in silence.</p>
+
+<p>The children could not understand the great, soul-expanding sympathy that
+made these two men friends. They gazed on Mr. Meek's buckskin jacket and
+trousers with curiosity, for they were picturesque with their furs, belts,
+and weapons, and he looked like a warrior or a forest knight clad in
+armor.</p>
+
+<p>He wore the same buckskin suit when he appeared in Washington as the
+delegate to Congress from Oregon. It was at the time of Polk and Dallas,
+and not a person in Washington probably knew him when he made his
+appearance at the Congressional Hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The people at the hotel stared at him as the children did now. He went
+into the great dining-room with the other Congressmen, but alone and
+unknown. The colored waiters laughed at him as he took his seat at the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>The other people at the table were served, but no one came near him. At
+last he turned and faced a hurrying colored man, and, in a voice that
+silenced the room, said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Waiter, come here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The waiter rolled up his eyes and said, &quot;Sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you any big meat to-day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any bear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any bear? bear? No, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any buffalo?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any buffalo&mdash;buffalo? Where did you come from? No, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, waiter you may bring me what you have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The waiter went away with white teeth, and a smile and titter passed
+around the table. The waiter returned with the usual first course of the
+meal, and was about to hurry away, when the old pioneer took out his
+pistol and laid it down on the table, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Waiter, you stand there, I may want you; and if anybody wants to know who
+I am, tell him I am Hon. Joseph Meek, the delegate of the people of
+Oregon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When it was known who Mr. Meek was, he was met by Mr. Dallas, the courtly
+Vice-President.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will attend you to the reception this afternoon, where you will meet
+the wives of the Congressmen,&quot; said he. &quot;I will call for you at three.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Vice-President called, and was surprised to find Mr. Meek still in his
+buckskins.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not intend to go in that habit to the reception?&quot; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Mr. Meek, &quot;or else not go at all. In the first place, I have
+nothing else to wear, and what is good enough for me to wear among the
+people of Oregon is good enough for their representative here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We have given, in these two anecdotes, very nearly Mr. Meek's own words.</p>
+
+<p>A few days after the visit of this most extraordinary man, another visitor
+came. She was an earnest-looking woman, on an Indian pony, and there was a
+benevolence in her face and manner that drew the whole school into
+immediate sympathy with her. The lady was Mrs. Spaulding, one of the
+so-called &quot;Brides of Oregon.&quot; Her husband had come to the Territory with
+Dr. Whitman and his bride. The long missionary journey was the bridal tour
+of Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spaulding. They were the first white women who
+crossed the Rocky Mountains. It was related of Mrs. Spaulding, who had a
+beautiful voice, and was a member of a church quartet or choir in a
+country town in New York, as a leading singer, that, just before leaving
+the place for her long horseback journey of more than two thousand miles,
+she sang in the church the hymn beginning&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Yes, my native land, I love thee,&quot;
+</p>
+
+<p>in such an affecting manner as to silence the rest of the choir, and melt
+the congregation to tears:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Home, thy joys are passing lovely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Joys no stranger's heart can tell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Happy scenes and happy country,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can I bid you all farewell?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Can I leave thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far in heathen lands to dwell?&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This lady addressed the school, and spoke feelingly of the condition of
+the Indian race, and of the field for the teacher in the valleys of the
+Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen listened to the address with open heart. There are moments of
+revelation when a knowledge of one's true calling in life comes to the
+soul. Faith as a blind but true guide vanishes, and the eye sees. Such was
+the hour to Gretchen. She had often felt, when playing on the violin, that
+the inspiration that gave such influence to her music should be used in
+teaching the tribes that were so susceptible to its influence. This
+feeling had grown in the playing and singing of a school-song, the words
+of which were written by Mrs. Hunter, an English lady, and the wife of the
+famous Dr. Hunter, which showed the heroism and fortitude of the Indian
+character:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But glory remains when the light fades away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the son of Alknoomook will never complain.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The tune or melody was admirably adapted to the violin. Benjamin loved to
+hear it sung, and Gretchen was pleased to sing and to play it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann asked Gretchen to play for Mrs. Spaulding, and she chose this
+simple but expressive melody. He then asked the school to sing, and he
+selected the words of</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Yes, my native land, I love thee,&quot;</p>
+
+<p>to the music of Rousseau's Dream. Mrs. Spaulding could hardly keep from
+joining in the tune and hymn, then well known to all the missionary
+pioneers. At the words&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;In the desert let me labor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the mountain let me tell,&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>her beautiful voice rose above the school, and Gretchen's fingers trembled
+as she played the air.</p>
+
+<p>As the lady rode away, Gretchen felt tears coming into her eyes. The
+school was dismissed, and the pupils went away, but Gretchen lingered
+behind. She told Benjamin to go to the lodge, and that she would follow
+him after she had had a talk with the master.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That song is beautiful,&quot; said Gretchen. &quot;'In the desert let me labor.'
+That is what I would like to do all my life. Do you suppose that I could
+become a teacher among the Indians like Mrs. Spaulding? It would make me
+perfectly happy if I could. If I were to study hard, would you help me to
+find such a place in life?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen's large eyes, filled with tears, were bent earnestly on the face
+of Mr. Mann.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said, &quot;and if I can inspire you only to follow me in such work,
+it will repay me for an unknown grave in the forests of the Columbia.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen started; she trembled she knew not why, then buried her face in
+her arms on the rude log desk and sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head at last, and went out, singing&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&quot;In the desert let me labor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a glorious sundown in autumn. The burning disk of the sun hung in
+clouds of pearl like an oriel-window in a magnificent temple. Black
+shadows fell on the placid waters of the Columbia, and in the limpid air
+under the bluffs Indians fished for salmon, and ducks and grebes sported
+in river weeds.</p>
+
+<p>Marlowe Mann went away from the log school-house that night a happy man.
+He had seen that his plans in life were already budding. He cared little
+for himself, but only for the cause to which he devoted his life&mdash;to begin
+Christian education in the great empire of Oregon.</p>
+
+<p>But how unexpected this episode was, and how far from his early dreams!
+His spirit had inspired first of all this orphan girl from the Rhine, who
+had been led here by a series of strange events. This girl had learned
+faith from her father's prayers. On the Rhine she had never so much as
+heard of the Columbia&mdash;the new Rhine of the sundown seas.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII" />CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>A WARNING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One evening, as Gretchen was sitting outside of the lodge, she saw the
+figure of a woman moving cautiously about in the dim openings of the
+fir-trees. It was not the form of an Indian woman&mdash;its movement was
+mysterious. Gretchen started up and stood looking into the darkening
+shadows of the firs. Suddenly the form came out of the clearing&mdash;it was
+Mrs. Woods. She waved her hand and beckoned to Gretchen, and then drew
+back into the forest and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen went toward the openings where Mrs. Woods had so suddenly and
+strangely appeared. But no one was there. She wondered what the secret of
+the mysterious episode could be. She returned to the lodge, but said
+nothing about what she had seen. She passed a sleepless night, and
+resolved to go to see her foster-mother on the following day.</p>
+
+<p>So, after school the next afternoon, she returned to her old home for a
+brief visit, and to gain an explanation of the strange event of the
+evening before.</p>
+
+<p>She found Mrs. Woods very sad, and evidently troubled by some ominous
+experience.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you saw me?&quot; was her first salutation. &quot;I didn't dare to come any
+further. They did not see me&mdash;did they?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, why did you go away&mdash;why did you come to the lodge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Gretchen, husband has been at home from the shingle-mill, and he has
+told me something dreadful!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a conspiracy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Among the Injuns. A friendly Injun told husband in secret that there
+would be no more seen of the log school-house after the Potlatch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't fear, mother; the chief and Benjamin will protect that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that isn't all, Gretchen. Oh, I am so glad that you have come home!
+There are dark shadows around us everywhere. I can feel 'em&mdash;can't you?
+The atmosphere is all full of dark faces and evil thoughts. I can't bear
+to sleep alone here now. Gretchen, there's a plot to capture the
+schoolmaster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't fear, mother. I know Umatilla&mdash;he will never permit it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Gretchen, the Injun told husband something awful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That the schoolmaster would one day perish as Dr. Whitman did. Dr.
+Whitman was stricken down by the Injun whom he regarded as his best
+friend, and he never knew who dealt the blow. He went out of life like one
+smitten by lightning. O Gretchen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, I do not fear. The Indians thought that Dr. Whitman was a
+conjurer. We make people true, the master says, by putting confidence in
+them. I believe in the old chief and in Benjamin, and there will no evil
+ever come to the schoolmaster or the log school-house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen, are you sure? Then I did not bring you away out here for
+nothing, did I? You may be the angel of deliverance of us all. Who knows?
+But, Gretchen, I haven't told you all yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods's face clouded again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Injun told husband that some of the warriors had formed a plot
+against <i>me</i>, and that, if they were to capture me, they would torture me.
+Gretchen, I am afraid. Don't you pity me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, I know my power over the chief and Benjamin, and I know the power
+of a chief's sense of honor. I do pity you, you are so distressed. But,
+mother, no evil will ever come to you where I am, nor the school where I
+am. I am going to be a teacher among these Indians, if I live; I feel this
+calling, and my work will somehow begin here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A teacher among the Injuns! You? You a teacher? Are anvils going to fly?
+Here I am, a poor lone woman, away out here three thousand miles from
+home, and tremblin' all over, at every sound that I hear at night, for
+fear I shall be attacked by Injuns, and you are dreamin', with your head
+all full of poetry, of goin' away and leavin' me, the best friend that you
+ever had on the earth, as good as a mother to you; of goin' away&mdash;of
+leavin' me, to teach a lot of savages! Gretchen, I knew that the world was
+full of empty heads, but I never realized how empty the human heart is
+until now! Been a mother to you, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O mother, I never thought of leavin' you unless you wished it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did you think was goin' to become of me? I never kissed any child
+but you, and sometimes, when you are real good, I feel just as though I
+was your mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought that you would help me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Help you, what doin'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To teach the Indians.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To teach the Injuns&mdash;Indians you call 'em! I'd like to teach one Injun to
+bring back my saw! I never tried to teach but one Injun&mdash;and he was <i>him</i>.
+You can't make an eagle run around a door-yard like a goose, and you can't
+teach an Injun to saw wood&mdash;the first thing you know, the saw will be
+missin'.&mdash;But how I am runnin' on! I do have a good deal of prejudice
+against the savages; nevertheless&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew, mother, that you would say 'nevertheless.' It seems to me that
+word is your good spirit. I wish you would tell me what thought came to
+your mind when you said that word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Nevertheless?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, the Master&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He said&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;preach the gospel to every creature! I suppose that meant Injuns and
+all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;he said '<i>teach</i>'&mdash;so the schoolmaster explained it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did he? Well, I ought to obey it in spirit&mdash;hadn't I?&mdash;or at least not
+hinder others. I might help you teach it if I could get into the right
+spirit. But what put that thought into your head?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mrs. Spaulding, the missionary, has been to visit the school. She sang so
+beautifully! These were the words:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;'In the desert let me labor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the mountain let me tell.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;When she sung that, it all came to me&mdash;what I was&mdash;what I was sent into
+the world to do&mdash;what was the cause of your loving me and bringing me out
+here&mdash;I saw a plan in it all. Then, too, it came to me that you would at
+first not see the calling as I do, but that you would say <i>nevertheless</i>,
+and help me, and that we would work together, and do some good in the
+world, you and I. Oh! I saw it all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen, did you see all that? Do you think that the spirit has eyes,
+and that they see true? But how could I begin? The Injuns all hate me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Make them love you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say <i>nevertheless</i> to them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Gretchen, you are a good girl, and I am sorry for the hard things
+that I have said. I do not feel that I have shown just the right spirit
+toward Benjamin. But he has said that he will not do me any harm, for the
+sake of his master, and I am willin' to give up my will for my Master. It
+is those that give up their desires that have their desires in this world,
+and anybody who does an injury to another makes for himself a judgment-day
+of some sort. You may tell Benjamin that I am real sorry for bein' hard to
+him, and that, if he will come over and see me, I'll give him a carved
+pipe that husband made. Now, Gretchen, you may go, and I'll sit down and
+think a spell. I'll be dreadful lonely when you're gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen kissed her foster-mother at the door, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your new spirit, mother, will make us both so happy in the future! We'll
+work together. What the master teaches me, I'll teach you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What&mdash;books?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Gretchen, your heart is real good! But see here&mdash;my hair is gray. Oh, I
+am sorry&mdash;what a woman I might have been!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen lay down in the lodge that night beside the dusky wife of the
+old chief. The folds of the tent were open, and the cool winds came in
+from the Columbia, under the dim light of the moon and stars.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>tepee</i>, or tent, was made of skins, and was adorned with
+picture-writing&mdash;Indian poetry (if so it might be called). Overhead were
+clusters of beautiful feathers and wings of birds. The old chief loved to
+tell her stories of these strange and beautiful wings. There were the
+wings of the condor, of the bald and the golden eagle, of the duck-hawk,
+pigeon-hawk, squirrel-hawk, of the sap-sucker, of the eider duck, and a
+Zenaider-like dove. Higher up were long wings of swans and albatrosses,
+heads of horned owls, and beaks of the laughing goose. Through the still
+air, from some dusky shallow of the river came the metallic calls of the
+river birds, like the trumpeting swan. The girl lay waking, happy in
+recalling the spirit with which her foster-mother had accepted her plan of
+life.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly her sensitive spirit became aware of something unusual and
+strange at the opening of the tent. There was a soft, light step without,
+a guarded footfall. Then a tall, dark shadow distinctly appeared, with a
+glitter of mother-of-pearl ornaments and a waving of plumes. It stood
+there like a ghost of a vivid fancy, for a time. Gretchen's heart beat. It
+was not an unusual thing for an Indian to come to the <i>tepee</i> late in the
+evening; but there was something mysterious and ominous in the bearing and
+atmosphere of this shadowy visitor. The form stepped within the opening of
+the tent, and a voice whispered, &quot;Umatilla, awake!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief raised himself on his elbow with an &quot;Ugh!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come out under the moon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief arose and went out, and the two shadowy forms disappeared
+among a column of spruces on the musical banks of the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen could not sleep. The two Indians returned late, and, as they
+parted, Gretchen heard Umatilla's deep voice say, &quot;No!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her fears or instincts told her that the interview had reference to plots
+which were associated with the great Potlatch, now near at hand. She had
+heard the strange visitor say, &quot;The moon is growing,&quot; and there was
+something shadowy in the very tone in which the words were spoken.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods sat down in her home of bark and splints all alone after
+Gretchen's departure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She offers to teach me,&quot; she said to herself. &quot;I am so sorry that I was
+not able to teach her. I never read much, any way, until I came under the
+influence of the Methody. I might have taught her spiritual things&mdash;any
+one can have spiritual knowledge, and that is the highest of all. But I
+have loved my own will, and to give vent to my temper and tongue. I will
+change it all. There are times when I am my better self. I will only talk
+and decide upon what is best in life at such times as these. That would
+make my better nature grow. When I am out of sorts I will be silent-like.
+Heaven help me! it is hard to begin all these things when one's hair is
+turnin' gray, and I never knew any one's gray hair to turn young again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat in the twilight crying over herself, and at last sang the mournful
+minor measures of a very quaint old hymn with a peculiar old history:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;From whence doth this union arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That hatred is conquered by love?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It fastens our souls in such ties<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As distance and time can't remove.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The October moon came up larger and larger night by night. It stood on the
+verge of the horizon now in the late afternoon, as if to see the
+resplendent setting of the sun. One wandered along the cool roads at the
+parting of day between the red sun in the west and the golden moon in the
+east, and felt in the light of the two worlds the melancholy change in the
+atmospheres of the year. The old volcanoes glistened, for a wintry crust
+was widening over their long-dead ovens. Mount Saint Helens, as the far
+range which led up to the relic of the ancient lava-floods that is now
+known by that name was called by the settlers, was wonderfully beautiful
+in the twilights of the sun and moon. Mount Hood was a celestial glory,
+and the shadows of the year softened the glimmering glories of the
+Columbia. The boatman's call echoed long and far, and the crack of the
+flint-lock gun leaped in its reverberations from hill to hill as though
+the air was a succession of hollow chambers. Water-fowl filled the streams
+and drifted through the air, and the forests seemed filled with young and
+beautiful animals full of happy life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV" />CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE POTLATCH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A potlatch among the tribes of the Northwest means a feast at which some
+wealthy Indian gives away to his own people or to a friendly tribe all
+that he has. For this generosity he becomes a councilor or wise man, or
+judge, an attendant on the chief in public affairs, and is held in
+especial honor during the rest of his life.</p>
+
+<p>To attain this honor of chief man or councilor, many an ambitious young
+Indian labors for years to amass wampum, blankets, and canoes. The feast
+at which he exchanges these for political honors is very dramatic and
+picturesque. It is usually held at the time of the full moon, and lasts
+for several days and nights. One of the principal features is the
+<i>Tamanous</i>, or Spirit-dance, which takes place at night amid blazing
+torches and deafening drums.</p>
+
+<p>A chief rarely gives a Potlatch; he has no need of honors. But Umatilla
+desired to close his long and beneficent chieftainship with a gift-feast.
+He loved his people, and there seemed to him something noble in giving
+away all his private possessions to them, and trusting the care of his old
+age to their hearts. His chief men had done this, and had gained by it an
+influence which neither power nor riches can attain. This supreme
+influence over the hearts of his people he desired to possess. The
+gift-feast was held to be the noblest service that an Indian could render
+his race.</p>
+
+<p>At the great Potlatch he would not only give away his private goods, but
+would take leave of the chieftainship which he had held for half a
+century. It was his cherished desire to see Benjamin made chief. His heart
+had gone into the young heart of the boy, and he longed to see The Light
+of the Eagle's Plume, sitting in his place amid the councilors of the
+nation and so beginning a new history of the ancient people.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="At_the_Cascades_of_the_Columbia" id="At_the_Cascades_of_the_Columbia" /><a href="./images/183.jpg"><img src="./images/183-tb.jpg" alt="At the Cascades of the Columbia." title="At the Cascades of the Columbia." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>At the Cascades of the Columbia.</i></p>
+
+<p>The full moon of October is a night sun in the empires of the Columbia and
+the Puget Sea. No nights in the world can be more clear, lustrous, and
+splendid than those of the mellowing autumn in the valleys of Mount Saint
+Helens, Mount Hood, and the Columbia. The moon rises over the crystal
+peaks and domes like a living glory, and mounts the deep sky amid the pale
+stars like a royal torch-bearer of the sun. The Columbia is a rolling
+flood of silver, and the gigantic trees of the centuries become a ghostly
+and shadowy splendor. There is a deep and reverent silence everywhere,
+save the cry of the water-fowl in the high air and the plash of the
+Cascades. Even the Chinook winds cease to blow, and the pine-tops to
+murmur.</p>
+
+<p>It was such a night that the Potlatch began. On an open plateau
+overlooking the Columbia the old chief had caused a large platform to be
+built, and on this were piled all his canoes, his stores of blankets, his
+wampum, and his regal ornaments and implements of war. Around the plateau
+were high heaps of pine-boughs to be lighted during the Spirit-dance so as
+to roll a dark cloud of smoke under the bright light of the high moon, and
+cause a weird and dusky atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>The sun set; the shadows of night began to fall, but the plateau was
+silent. Not a human form was to be seen anywhere, not even on the river.
+Stars came out like lamps set in celestial windows, and sprinkled their
+rays on the crimson curtains of the evening.</p>
+
+<p>The glaciers on Mount Hood began to kindle as with silver fires. The east
+seemed like a lifting gate of light. The great moon was rising.</p>
+
+<p>Hark! At the first ray of the moon there are heard low, mysterious sounds
+everywhere. The forests are full of them&mdash;calls, like the coyote's bark,
+or bird-calls, or secret signals. They are human voices. They answer each
+other. There are thousands of voices calling and answering.</p>
+
+<p>The full moon now hangs low over the forests, golden as the morning sun in
+the mists of the calm sea. There is a piercing cry and a roll of
+war-drums, and suddenly the edges of the forest are full of leaping and
+dancing forms. The plateau is alive as with an army. Pipes play, shells
+rattle, and drums roll, and the fantastic forms with grotesque motions
+pass and repass each other.</p>
+
+<p>Up the Columbia comes a fleet of canoes like a cloud passing over the
+silvery ripples. The river is all alive with human forms, and airy paddles
+and the prows of tilting boats.</p>
+
+<p>The plateau swarms. It is covered with waving blankets and dancing plumes.
+All is gayety and mirth.</p>
+
+<p>There is another roll of drums, and then silence.</p>
+
+<p>The circling blankets and plumes become motionless. The chief of the
+Cascades is coming, and with him is Benjamin and his young bride, and
+Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>The royal party mount the platform, and in honor of the event the
+torch-dance begins. A single torch flashes upon the air; another is
+lighted from it, another and another. A hundred are lighted&mdash;a thousand.
+They begin to dance and to whirl; the plateau is a dazzling scene of
+circling fire. Gretchen recalled the old <i>f&ecirc;tes</i> amid the vineyards of the
+Rhine in her childhood.</p>
+
+<p>Hither and thither the circles move&mdash;round and round. There is poetry in
+this fire-motion; and the great army of fire-dancers become excited under
+it, and prepared for the frenzy of the Spirit-dance that is to follow.</p>
+
+<p>The torches go out. The moon turns the smoke into wannish clouds of white
+and yellow, which slowly rise, break, and disappear.</p>
+
+<p>There is another roll of drums. Wild cries are heard in the forests. The
+&quot;biters&quot; are beginning their hunt.</p>
+
+<p>Who are the biters? They are Indians in hides of bears and wolves, who run
+on their hands and feet, uttering terrible cries, and are followed by
+women, who, to make the scene more fearful, pretend to hold them back, and
+restrain them from violence. The Spirit-dance is held to be a sacred
+frenzy, and before it begins the biters are charged to hunt the woods for
+any who have not joined the army of dancers, and, if such are found, to
+bite them and tear their flesh with their teeth. They also guard the dance
+like sentinels, and fly at one who attempts to leave it before it is done.</p>
+
+<p>The frenzied shrieks of these human animals, and of the women who follow
+them, produce a wonderful nervous effect upon the listening multitudes.
+All feel that they are about to enter into the ecstatic spiritual
+condition of departed souls, and are to be joined by the shades of the
+dead heroes and warriors of tradition and story.</p>
+
+<p>Each dancer has a masque. It may be an owl's head with mother-of-pearl
+eyes, or a wooden pelican's beak, or a wolf's head. It may be a wooden
+animal's face, which can be pulled apart by a string, and reveal under it
+an effigy of a human face, the first masque changing into great ears. The
+museum at Ottawa, Canada, contains a great number of such masques, and
+some missionaries in the Northwest make curious collections of them.</p>
+
+<p>The whirling begins. Everywhere are whirling circles&mdash;round and round they
+go. The sight of it all would make a spectator dizzy. Cries arise, each
+more and more fearful; the whole multitude are at last shrieking with
+dizzy heads and wildly beating pulses. The cries become deafening; an
+almost superhuman frenzy passes over all; they seem to be no longer
+mortal&mdash;the armies of the dead are believed to be about them; they think
+that they are reveling in the joys of the heroes' paradise. One by one
+they drop down, until the whole assembly is exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight the great fires are kindled, and throw their lights and
+shadows over the frenzied sleepers. Such was the <i>Tamanous</i>-dance, and so
+ended the first night of the feast.</p>
+
+<p>On the second night the old chief gave away his private possessions, and
+on the third the wedding ceremony was performed.</p>
+
+<p>The wild and inhuman Death-dance, which the tribe demanded, was expected
+to end the festival at the going down of the shadowy moon. Could it be
+prevented after the traditions of unknown centuries, and at a time when
+the historical pride of the warriors was awakened to celebrate the
+barbarous deeds of their ancestors?</p>
+
+<p>The wedding was simple. It consisted chiefly in gifts to the bride,
+Multoona. The girl was fantastically dressed, with ornaments of shells and
+feathers, and she followed the young prince demurely. After the ceremony
+of the bridal gifts came the Fire-fly dance, in which light-torches
+gleamed out in vanishing spirals here and there, and over all the plain.
+Then followed the <i>Tamanous</i> or Spirit dance, in which a peculiar kind of
+frenzy is excited, as has been described. The excitement was somewhat less
+than usual this night, on account of the great orgies which were expected
+to follow.</p>
+
+<p>The third and great night of the Potlatch came. It was the night of the
+full October moon. The sun had no sooner gone down in the crimson
+cloud-seas among the mountains, than the moon, like another sun, broad and
+glorious, lifted its arch in the distant blue of the serene horizon.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians gathered on the glimmering plain in the early shadows of
+evening, besmeared with yellow ochre and war-paint. Every head was plumed.
+There was a savagery in their looks that had not been seen before.</p>
+
+<p>The wild dancers began their motions. The Spirit or <i>Tamanous</i> dance
+awakened a frenzy, and all were now impatient for the dance of the Evil
+Spirits to begin.</p>
+
+<p>The moon hung low over the plateau and the river. The fires were kindled,
+and the smoke presently gave a clouded gold color to the air.</p>
+
+<p>The biters were out, running hither and thither after their manner, and
+filling the air with hideous cries.</p>
+
+<p>All was expectation, when the old chief of the Cascades stepped upon the
+platform, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen, my children&mdash;listen, O sons of the warriors of old. Twice four
+times sixty seasons, according to the notch-sticks, have the wings of wild
+geese cleaved the sky, and all these years I have lived in peace. My last
+moon has arisen&mdash;I have seen the smile of the Great Spirit, and I know
+that the last moon hangs over my head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Warriors, listen! You have always obeyed me. Obey me once more. Dance not
+the dance of the Evil Spirits to-night. Let me die in peace. Let not blood
+stain my last days. I want you to remember the days of Umatilla as the
+days of corn and maize and the pipes of peace. I have given you all I
+have&mdash;my days are done. You will respect me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were mutterings everywhere, suppressed cries of rage, and sharp
+words of chagrin and disappointment. The old chief saw the general
+dissatisfaction, and felt it like a crushing weight upon his soul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to light the pipe of peace,&quot; said he, &quot;and smoke it now before
+you. As many of you as love Umatilla, light the pipes of peace.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Not a light glimmered in the smoky air. There were words of hate and
+suppressed cries everywhere. A circle was forming, it widened, and it
+seemed as though the dreaded dance was about to begin in spite of the
+command of the old chief.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a form in white stood beside Umatilla. It was Gretchen. A white
+arm was raised, and the martial strain of the &quot;Wild Hunt of Lutzow&quot;
+marched out like invisible horsemen, and caused every Indian to listen.
+Then there were a few sharp, discordant strains, and then the <i>Traumerei</i>
+lifted its spirit-wings of music on the air.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/191.jpg"><img src="./images/191-tb.jpg" alt="Traumerei, by Robert Schumann, simplified by F. Brandeis." title="Traumerei, by Robert Schumann, simplified by F. Brandeis." /></a></p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/192.jpg"><img src="./images/192-tb.jpg" alt="Traumerei, page 2." title="Traumerei, page 2." /></a></p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a href="./images/193.jpg"><img src="./images/193-tb.jpg" alt="Traumerei, page 3." title="Traumerei, page 3." /></a></p>
+
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">[<i>You can play this music (MIDI file) by clicking</i> <a href="music/traumerei.midi">here</a>.<br />
+<i>You can view the Lilypond data file for this music by clicking</i> <a href="music/traumerei.ly">here</a>.]</div>
+
+<p>The murmurs ceased. The plain grew still. &quot;Romance&quot; followed, and then the
+haunting strain of the <i>Traumerei</i> rose again. It ceased. Lights began to
+glimmer here and there. Peace-pipes were being lighted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have saved your people,&quot; said Umatilla. &quot;Play it again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again and again the dream-music drifted out on the air. The plain was now
+filled with peace-pipes. When the last blended tones died away, the whole
+tribe were seated on the long plateau, and every old warrior was smoking a
+pipe of peace.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen saw that her spirit, through the violin, had calmed the sea. She
+was sure now that she had rightly read her mission in life. Amid the scene
+of glimmering peace-pipes, a heavenly presence seemed near her. She had
+broken the traditions of centuries by the sympathetic thrill of four
+simple strings. She felt that Von Weber was there in spirit, and Schumann.
+She felt that her father's soul was near her; but, more than all, she felt
+that she was doing the work of the Great Commission. She bowed her head on
+the instrument, thought of poor, terrorized Mrs. Woods in her lonely home,
+and wept.</p>
+
+<p>A seen and unseen world had come to her&mdash;real life. She saw her power;
+the gates of that mysterious kingdom, in which the reborn soul is a new
+creation, had been opened to her. Her spirit seemed to rise as on
+new-created wings, and the world to sink beneath her. She had spiritual
+sight, ears, and senses&mdash;a new consciousness of Divine happiness. Her
+purpose became strong to live for the soul alone, and she sung, over and
+over again, amid the silence of the peace-pipes and the rising of those
+puffs of smoke in the silver illumination of the high moon&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;In the deserts let me labor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the mountains let me tell.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV" />CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>An hour passed in this mysterious and strange tranquillity&mdash;the noon hour
+of night. The warriors seemed contented and satisfied. Many of them were
+old; some of them remembered the coming of the first ships to the
+Columbia, and a few of them the long visit of Vancouver. They knew the
+wisdom of Umatilla, and seemed proud that his will had been so readily
+obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>But not so with the biters. They were young, and they had plotted on this
+night to begin hostilities against the settlers. Their plan had been to
+burn the log school-house and the house of the Woodses, and to make a
+captive of Mrs. Woods, whose hostile spirit they wished to break and
+punish. Soon after the quiet scene at midnight they began to be restless.
+Their cries arose here and there about the margin of the plateau and along
+the river.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief knew their feelings, and saw the stormy ripples here and
+there. He arose slowly, and called:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My people, draw near.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tribe gathered about the platform. The young braves knew what the old
+chief was about to say, and their cries of discontent grew loud and
+multiplied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The log school-house!&quot; shrieked one, in a voice of rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Pil-pil!</i>&quot; cried another. &quot;<i>Pil-pil!</i>&quot; echoed many voices. A tumult
+followed, and Gretchen started up from her reverie, and heard among the
+restless murmurs the name of Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>She felt a nervous terror for a moment, but her spiritual sense and faith,
+which had come to her like a new-born life, returned to her.</p>
+
+<p>She arose on the platform and took her violin, and looked down upon the
+sea of dusky faces in the smoky moonlight. She drew her bow. The music
+quivered. There was a lull in the excited voices. She played low, and
+there followed a silence.</p>
+
+<p>The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face and
+stood beside her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play the beautiful air.&quot; She played the <i>Traumerei</i> again.</p>
+
+<p>The chief arose, as the last strain died away, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My people, listen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The plateau was silent. The Columbia could be heard flowing. The trees
+seemed listening. Benjamin came upon the platform, reeling, and seemed
+about to speak to his father, but the old chief did not heed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My people, listen,&quot; repeated the chief.</p>
+
+<p>A wild shriek of pain rent the air, and Benjamin dropped at the feet of
+his father. It was his voice that uttered the cry of agony and despair as
+he fell.</p>
+
+<p>What had happened?</p>
+
+<p>The boy lay on the platform as one dead. The old chief bent over him and
+laid his hand on his face. He started back as he did so, for the face was
+cold. But the boy's eyes pitifully followed every movement of his father.
+Gretchen sunk down beside the body, and drew her hand across his forehead
+and asked for water. Benjamin knew her.</p>
+
+<p>Soon his voice came again. He looked wistfully toward Gretchen and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall never go to find the Black Eagle's nest again. It is the plague.
+My poor father!&mdash;my poor father!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Send for the medicine-man,&quot; said the chief. &quot;Quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hopping-Bear, the old medicine-man, came, a dreadful figure in eagle's
+plumes and bear-skins. To affect the imagination of the people when he was
+going to visit the sick, he had been accustomed to walk upon his two hands
+and one foot, with the other foot moving up and down in the air. He
+believed that sickness was caused by obsession, or the influence of some
+evil spirit, and he endeavored, by howlings, jumpings, and rattling of
+snake-skins, to drive this imaginary spirit away. But he did not begin his
+incantations here; he looked upon Benjamin with staring eyes, and cried
+out:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the plague!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old chief of the Cascades lifted his helpless face to the sky.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The stars are gone out!&quot; he said. &quot;I care for nothing more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after the
+convulsions, then consciousness would return. In one of these moments of
+consciousness he asked of Gretchen:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is Boston tilicum?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is not here&mdash;he does not know that you are sick.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Run for him; tell him I can't go to the Missouri with him. I can't find
+the Black Eagle's nest. Run!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His mind was dreaming and wandering.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen sent a runner to bring the schoolmaster to the dreadful scene.</p>
+
+<p>A convulsion passed over the boy, but he revived again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have faith in Heaven,&quot; said Gretchen. &quot;There is One above that will save
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One above that will save me! Are you sure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>She added:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother is sorry for what she said to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry,&quot; said the boy, pathetically.</p>
+
+<p>He was lost again in spasms of pain. When he revived, Marlowe Mann had
+come. The boy lifted his eyes to his beloved teacher vacantly; then the
+light of intelligence came back to them, and he knew him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't go,&quot; he said. &quot;We shall never go to the lakes of the honks
+together. Boston tilicum, I am going to die; I am going away like my
+brothers&mdash;where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was near the gray light of the morning, and a flock of wild geese were
+heard trumpeting in the air. The boy heard the sound, and started.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What can I do for you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, listen. Do you hear? What taught the honks where to go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Great Father of all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He leads them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will lead me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And teach me when I am gone away. I can trust him. But my father&mdash;my
+father! Boston tilicum, he loves me, and he is old.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Flock after flock of wild geese flew overhead in the dim light. The boy
+lay and listened. He seemed to have learned a lesson of faith from the
+instincts of these migratory birds. He once turned to the master and said,
+almost in Gretchen's words:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is One above that will save me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As the morning drew nearer, the air seemed filled with a long procession
+of Canadian geese going toward the sea. The air rang with their calls. The
+poor boy seemed to think that somehow they were calling to him.</p>
+
+<p>There was silence at last in the air, and he turned toward Gretchen his
+strangely quiet face, and said, &quot;Play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen raised her bow. As she did so a sharp spasm came over him. He
+lifted his hand and tried to feel of one of the feathers from the Black
+Eagle's nest. He was evidently wandering to the Falls of the Missouri. His
+hand fell. He passed into a stertorous sleep, and lay there, watched by
+the old chief and the silent tribe.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the light of early morn was flaming through the tall, cool, dewy
+trees, the breathing became labored, and ceased.</p>
+
+<p>There he lay in the rising sun, silent and dead, with the helpless chief
+standing statue-like above him, and the tribe, motionless as a picture,
+circled around him, and with Gretchen at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Make way!&quot; said the old chief, in a deep voice.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped down from the platform, and walked in a kingly manner, yet with
+tottering steps, toward the forest. Gretchen followed him. He heard her
+step, but did not look around.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;White girl, go back,&quot; he said; &quot;I want to be alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He entered the forest slowly and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Just at night he was seen coming out of the forest again. He spoke to but
+a single warrior, and only said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bury him as the white men bury; open the blanket of the earth; and
+command the tribe to be there&mdash;to-morrow at sundown. Take them all away&mdash;I
+will watch. Where is the white girl?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has gone home,&quot; said the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will watch alone. Take them all away&mdash;I want to be alone. It is
+the last night of the chief of the Umatillas. It is the last watch of the
+stars. My blood is cold, my heart beats slow&mdash;it will not be long!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The chief sat all night by the body. In the morning he went to his lodge,
+and the tribe made the preparations for the funeral, and opened a grave in
+the earth.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI" />CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A SILENT TRIBE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was sunset on the bluffs and valleys of the Columbia. Through the tall,
+dark pines and firs the red west glowed like the lights in an oriel or
+mullioned window. The air was voiceless. The Columbia rolled silently in
+the shadows with a shimmering of crimson on its deep middle tides. The
+long, brown boats of the salmon-fishers sat motionless on the tide. Among
+the craft of the fishermen glided a long, airy canoe, with swift paddles.
+It contained an old Umatilla Indian, his daughter, and a young warrior.
+The party were going to the young chief's funeral.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="Multnomah_Falls" id="Multnomah_Falls" /><a href="./images/205.jpg"><img src="./images/205-tb.jpg" alt="Multnomah Falls." title="Multnomah Falls." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>Multnomah Falls.</i></p>
+
+<p>As the canoe glided on amid the still fishermen of other tribes, the
+Indian maiden began to sing. It was a strange song, of immortality, and of
+spiritual horizons beyond the visible life. The Umatillas have poetic
+minds. To them white Tacoma with her gushing streams means a mother's
+breast, and the streams themselves, like the Falls of the distant
+Shoshone, were &quot;falling splendors.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sang in Chinook, and the burden of her song was that horizons will
+lift forever in the unknown future. The Chinook word <i>tamala</i> means
+&quot;to-morrow&quot;; and to-morrow, to the Indian mind, was eternal life.</p>
+
+<p>The young warrior joined in the refrain, and the old Indian listened. The
+thought of the song was something as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Aha! it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lift thine eye to the mount; to the wave give thy sorrow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The river is bright, and the rivulets flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Tamala, tamala,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Ever and ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The morrows will come and the morrows will go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Tamala! tamala!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Happy boat, it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Tamala, whisper the waves as they flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The crags of the sunset the smiles of light borrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And soft from the ocean the Chinook winds blow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Tamala, tamala,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Ever and ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The morrows will come and the morrows will go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Tamala! tamala!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Aha! the night comes, but the light is to-morrow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Tamala, tamala, sing as we go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The waves ripple past, like the heart-beats of sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the oar beats the wave to our song as we row:<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Tamala, tamala,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Ever and ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The morrows will come and the morrows will go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Tamala! tamala!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;For ever and ever horizons are lifting&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And life toward the stars of the ocean is drifting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through death will the morrow all endlessly glow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Tamala, tamala,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Ever and ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The morrows will come and the morrows will go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i20">Tamala! tamala!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The paddle dipped in the wave at the word <i>tamala</i>, and lifted high to
+mark the measure of the song, and strew in the warm, soft air the watery
+jewels colored by the far fires of the Sound. So the boat swept on, like a
+spirit bark, and the beautiful word of immortality was echoed from the
+darkening bluffs and the primitive pine cathedrals.</p>
+
+<p>The place where the grave had been made was on the borders of the Oregon
+desert, a wild, open region, walled with tremendous forests, and spreading
+out in the red sunset like a sea. It had a scanty vegetation, but a slight
+rain would sometimes change it into a billowy plain of flowers.</p>
+
+<p>The tribe had begun to assemble about the grave early in the long
+afternoon. They came one by one, solitary and silent, wrapped in blankets
+and ornamented with gray plumes. The warriors came in the same solitary
+way and met in silence, and stood in a long row like an army of shadows.
+Squaws came, leading children by the hand, and seated themselves on the
+soft earth in the same stoical silence that had marked the bearing of the
+braves.</p>
+
+<p>A circle of lofty firs, some three hundred feet high, threw a slanting
+shadow over the open grave, the tops gleaming with sunset fire.</p>
+
+<p>Afar, Mount Hood, the dead volcano, lifted its roof of glaciers twelve
+thousand feet high. Silver ice and black carbon it was now, although in
+the long ages gone it had had a history written in flame and smoke and
+thunder. Tradition says that it sometimes, even now, rumbles and flashes
+forth in the darkness of night, then sinks into rest again, under its
+lonely ice palaces so splendid in the sunset, so weird under the moon.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the red disk of the sun sunk down behind this stupendous scenery,
+a low, guttural sound was uttered by Potlatch Hero, an old Indian brave,
+and it passed along the line of the shadowy braves. No one moved, but all
+eyes were turned toward the lodge of the old Umatilla chief.</p>
+
+<p>He was coming&mdash;slowly, with measured step; naked, except the decent
+covering of a blanket and a heroic ornament of eagle-plumes, and all
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>The whole tribe had now gathered, and a thousand dusky forms awaited him
+in the sunset.</p>
+
+<p>There was another guttural sound. Another remarkable life-picture came
+into view. It was the school in a silent procession, following the tall
+masks, out of the forest trail on to the glimmering plain, the advent of
+that new civilization before which the forest lords, once the poetic bands
+of the old Umatillas, were to disappear. Over all a solitary eagle beat
+the luminous air, and flocks of wild geese made their way, like V-letters,
+toward the Puget Sea.</p>
+
+<p>The school soon joined the dusky company, and the pupils stood with
+uncovered heads around their Yankee pedagogue. But the old chief came
+slowly. After each few steps he would stop, fold his arms, and seem lost
+in contemplation. These pauses were longer as he drew near the silent
+company.</p>
+
+<p>Except the honks of the pilots of the flocks of wild geese, there was a
+dead silence everywhere. Only eyes moved, and then furtively, toward the
+advancing chief.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="The_old_chief_stood" id="The_old_chief_stood" /><a href="./images/209.jpg"><img src="./images/209-tb.jpg" alt="The old chief stood stoical and silent." title="The old chief stood stoical and silent." /></a></p><p class="figcenter"><i>The old chief stood stoical and silent.</i></p>
+
+<p>He reached the grave at last by these slow movements, and stepped upon the
+earth that had been thrown out of it, and folded his arms in view of
+all. A golden star, like a lamp in the windows of heaven, hung over Mount
+Hood in the fading splendors of the twilight, and the great chief bent his
+eye upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the air was rent by a wail, and a rattle of shells and drums. The
+body of Benjamin was being brought out of the lodge. It was borne on a
+bier made of poles, and covered with boughs of pine and fir and red
+mountain phlox. It was wrapped in a blanket, and strewn with odorous
+ferns. Four young braves bore it, besmeared with war-paint. They were
+followed by musicians, who beat their drums, and rattled shell instruments
+at irregular times, as they advanced. They came to the grave, lifted the
+body on its blanket from the bier of evergreens and flowers, and slowly
+lowered it. The old chief stood stoical and silent, his eye fixed on the
+star in the darkening shadows.</p>
+
+<p>The face of Benjamin was noble and beautiful in its death-sleep. Over it
+were two black eagle's plumes. The deep black hair lay loosely about the
+high, bronze forehead; there was an expression of benevolence in the
+compressed lips, and the helpless hands seemed like a picture as they lay
+crossed on each other.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the body was laid in the earth, the old chief bent his face on
+the people. The mysterious dimness of death was in his features. His eyes
+gleamed, and his bronze lips were turning pale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My nation, listen; 'tis my last voice. I am a Umatilla. In my youth the
+birds in the free lakes of the air were not more free. I spoke, and you
+obeyed. I have but one more command to give. Will you obey me?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You bow, and I am glad.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My fathers were men of war. They rolled the battle-drums. I taught my
+warriors to play the pipes of peace, and sixty years have they played them
+under the great moons of the maize-fields. We were happy. I was happy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had seven sons. The white man's plague came; the shadow fell on six of
+them, and they went away with the storm-birds. They entered the new canoe,
+and sailed beyond us on the sea of life. They came back no more at the
+sunrisings and sun settings, at the leaf-gatherings of the spring, or the
+leaf-fallings of the autumn. They are beyond.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One son was left me&mdash;Benjamin. He was no common youth; the high spirits
+were with him, and he came to be like them, and he has gone to them now. I
+loved him. He was my eyes; he was my ears; he was my heart. When I saw his
+eyes in death, my eyes were dead; when he could hear me call his name no
+longer, my ears lost their hearing; when his young heart ceased to beat,
+my own heart was dead. All that I am lies in that grave, beside my dead
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My nation, you have always obeyed me. I have but one more command to
+make. Will you obey me?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You bow again. My life-blood is growing cold. I am about to go down into
+that grave.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One step! The clouds fly and darken, and you will see them return again,
+but not I.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two steps! Farewell, sun and light of day. I shall see thee again, but
+not as now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Three steps! Downward to the grave I descend to meet thee, my own dear
+boy. Adieu, my people. Adieu, hearts of faith. Farewell, ye birds of the
+air, ye mighty forests, ye sun of night, and ye marches of stars. I am
+dying.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two steps more I will take. There he lies before me in the unfolded
+earth, the life of my life, the heart of my heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have promised to obey me. I repeat it&mdash;you have promised to obey me.
+You have always done so. You must do so now. My hands are cold, my feet
+are cold, and my heart beats very slow. Three steps more, and I shall lay
+myself on the body of my boy. Hear, then, my last command; you have
+promised to obey it like brave men.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I have taken my last three steps of life, and laid down beside the
+uncovered bed of earth beside my boy, fill up the grave forever; my breath
+will be gone; Umatilla will be no more. You must obey.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One step&mdash;look! There is fire on the mountain under the curtains of the
+night. Look, the peak flashes; it is on fire.&mdash;O Spirit of All, I come!
+One step more! Farewell, earth. Warriors, fill the grave! The black
+eagle's plumes will now rest forever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was deep silence, broken only by the sobs of the little school. A
+warrior moved and passed round the grave, and uttered the word &quot;Dead!&quot; The
+braves followed him, and the whole tribe like shadows. &quot;Dead!&quot; &quot;Dead!&quot;
+passed from mouth to mouth. Then a warrior threw a handful of earth into
+the grave of the father and son. The braves followed his example, then all
+the tribe.</p>
+
+<p>As they were so doing, like phantoms in the dim light, Mount Saint
+Helens<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4" /><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> blazed again&mdash;one volcanic flash, then another; then all was
+darkness, and the moon arose in a broad sea of light like a spectral sun.</p>
+
+<p>The grave was filled at last. Then they brought the Cayuse pony of
+Benjamin toward the grave, and a young brave raised the hatchet to kill
+it, that it might bear the dead boy into the unknown land.</p>
+
+<p>There was a cry! It came from Gretchen. The girl rushed forward and stood
+before the hatchet. The pony seemed to know her, and he put his head over
+her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Spare him!&quot; she said. &quot;Benjamin gave him to me&mdash;the soul of Benjamin
+would wish it so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let the girl have her way,&quot; said the old warriors.</p>
+
+<p>The moon now moved free in the dark-blue sky, and sky, forest, and plain
+were a silver sea. The Indians began to move away like shadows, one by
+one, silent and slow. Gretchen was the last to go. She followed the
+school, leading the pony, her soul filled with that consciousness of a new
+life that had so wonderfully come to her. Her way in life now seemed
+clear: she must teach the Umatillas.</p>
+
+<p>She left the pony in a grassy clearing, on the trail that led to her home,
+and hurried toward the cabin to describe all the events of the day to her
+foster-mother.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4" /><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> See <a href="#Helens">Notes.</a></p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII" />CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>As Gretchen was hurrying home on the evening after these exciting scenes,
+she met Mrs. Woods in the trail, and she saw at a glance that her
+foster-mother was in great distress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Gretchen,&quot; she said, &quot;I am so glad that you have come&mdash;you are all that
+is left to me now! I am all alone in the world! Have you heard it,
+Gretchen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Husband is drowned!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods seized the arm of the girl, and the two helpless women hurried
+toward their rude home, each to relate to the other a scene of distress,
+and each to wonder what the wide future had in store for them.</p>
+
+<p>They held each other by the hand, and talked in the open door of the
+cabin. Then they went in and ate a simple meal of milk and berries, and
+lay down and slept the sleep of sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>At the early light they awoke. Almost the first words that Gretchen spoke
+were: &quot;Let us face life and be fearless. I have faith. My father had
+faith, and my mother lived by faith. It was faith that led them across the
+sea. Their faith seemed to be unfulfilled, but it will be fulfilled in me.
+I feel it. Mother, let trouble pass. We belong to the family of God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a comfort to me, Gretchen. I can not see my way&mdash;it is covered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you can trust your Guide, mother, and the end of trust <i>is</i> peace.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are we to do, Gretchen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go to Walla Walla and seek the advice of Mrs. Spaulding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gretchen, don't you think that the schoolmaster is a good man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I am sure that he is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am. Let us go to him and follow his advice. We will go together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They agreed to make the visit on the following day in the morning, before
+school.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen told her foster-mother the story of the Indian pony.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is he now?&quot; asked Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I left him in the clearing. I will go and find him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go with you,&quot; said Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>The two went out together. They came to the clearing&mdash;a place of waving
+grass, surrounded with gigantic trees, in whose tops were great nests of
+birds. The pony was not there.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He has gone to the next clearing,&quot; said Gretchen.</p>
+
+<p>They passed through a strip of wood to another clearing. But the pony was
+not there.</p>
+
+<p>As they were returning, a little black animal crossed their path.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods said, &quot;Hold!&quot; then called out in a kindly voice, &quot;Roll over.&quot;
+The little animal rolled head over heels in a very comical way, then ran
+quickly into the thick bushes. It was the last time that Mrs. Woods ever
+saw little Roll Over, and Gretchen never saw the pony again. The latter
+probably found a herd of horses and wandered away with them. It was a time
+of such confusion and distress that the matter did not awaken the interest
+of the Indians at that time.</p>
+
+<p>That evening they talked of plans for the future.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us seek work in one of the missionary stations,&quot; said Gretchen, &quot;or
+let us find a home among the Indians themselves. I want to become a
+teacher among them, and I know that they would treat you well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods's views on these matters were changing, but something of her
+old distrust and prejudice remained despite her good resolutions.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Foxes and geese were never made to hold conference meetings together. You
+can't make one man out of another if you try.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, your English ancestors once wandered about in sheep-skins,
+and worshiped the oaks; the whole English race, and the German race, were
+made what they are by teachers&mdash;teachers who gave themselves to a cause
+almost two thousand years ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I suppose that is so. But, Gretchen, I want your heart; I never
+thought that you would give it to the Injuns. I ought not to be so ruled
+by my affections; but, if I do scold you, there is something in you that
+draws my heart toward you all the time. I believe in helping others;
+something good in the future always comes of it. If men would be good to
+each other, Heaven would be good to the world. It is the things done here
+in this world that are out of order, and I never was on very good terms
+with myself even, not to say much of the world. But you have helped me,
+Gretchen, and hymns have helped me. I want you to be charitable toward my
+feelins', Gretchen, when I grow old, and I pray that you will always be
+true to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall always be true to you, whatever I may be called to do. I shall
+not leave you until you give your consent. One day you will wish me to do
+as I have planned&mdash;I feel it within me; something is leading me, and our
+hearts will soon be one in my plan of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It may be so, Gretchen. I have had a hard time, goin' out to service when
+I was a girl. My only happy days were during the old Methody preaching of
+Jason Lee. I thought I owned the heavens then. It was then I married, and
+I said to husband: 'Here we must always be slaves, and life will be master
+of us; let us go West, and own a free farm, and be masters of life.' There
+is a great deal in being master of life. Well, we have had a hard time,
+but husband has been good to me, and you have made me happy, if I have
+scolded. Gretchen, some people kiss each other by scoldin'; I do&mdash;I scold
+to make the world better. I suppose everything is for the best, after
+all. There is no experience in life that does not teach us something, and
+there is a better world beyond that awaits all who desire a better life.
+Our desires are better than ourselves&mdash;mine are. Good desires are prayers,
+and I think that they will all be answered some day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat in silence, thinking of her lonely situation, of her ignorance and
+imperfection, of her often baffled struggles to do well in this world and
+to overcome her poor, weak self, and she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play,&quot; she said. &quot;Music is a kind of prayer.&quot; And Gretchen touched the
+musical glasses.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII" />CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LIFTED CLOUD&mdash;THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The next day witnessed a strange scene at the log school-house on the
+Columbia. It was a red October morning. Mrs. Woods accompanied Gretchen to
+the school, as she wished to have a talk with Mr. Mann.</p>
+
+<p>As the two came in sight of the house, Mrs. Woods caught Gretchen by the
+arm and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's <i>them</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sittin' in the school-yard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are Indians.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Injuns? What are they there for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know, mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come for advice, like me, may be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps they are come to school. The old chief told them that I would
+teach them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have no father now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No father?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No chief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods had been so overwhelmed with her own grief that she had given
+little thought to the death of Benjamin and the chief of the Cascades. The
+unhappy condition of the little tribe now came to her as in a picture;
+and, as she saw before her some fifty Indians seated on the ground, her
+good heart came back to her, and she said, touched by a sense of her own
+widowhood, &quot;Gretchen, I pity 'em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Woods was right. These Indians had come to seek the advice of Mr.
+Mann in regard to their tribal affairs. Gretchen also was right. They had
+come to ask Mr. Mann to teach their nation.</p>
+
+<p>It was an unexpected assembly that Marlowe Mann faced as he came down the
+clearing, but it revealed to him, at a glance, his future work in life.</p>
+
+<p>The first of the distressed people to meet him was Mrs. Woods.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Mr. Mann, I am all alone in the world, and what am I goin' to do?
+There's nothin' but hard days' work left to me now, and&mdash;hymns. Even
+Father Lee has gone, and I have no one to advise me. You will be a friend
+to me, won't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Mr. Mann. &quot;I need you, and the way is clear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have a letter from Boston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, Marlowe Mann?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Indian Educational Society have promised me a thousand dollars for my
+work another year. I must have a house. I would want you to take charge of
+it. <i>But</i>&mdash;your tongue?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Master Mann, I'll give up my tongue! I'll just work, and be still. If
+an Injun will give up his revenge, an' it's his natur', ought not I to
+give up my tongue? When I can't help scoldin' I'll just sing hymns.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann gazed into the faces of the Indians. The warm sunlight fell upon
+them. There was a long silence, broken only by the scream of the eagles in
+the sky and the passing of flocks of wild geese. Then one of the Indians
+rose and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Umatilla has gone to his fathers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Benjamin has gone to his fathers. We shall never see Young Eagle's plume
+again!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Boston tilicum, be our chief. We have come to school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mann turned to Gretchen. Her young face was lovely that morning with
+sympathy. He said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see <i>our</i> work in life. Do you understand? Will you accept it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She understood his heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do whatever you say.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>In 1859 a great Indian Reservation was established in what is known in
+Oregon as the Inland Empire of the Northwest. It contained about two
+hundred and seventy thousand acres, agricultural land and timber-land. The
+beautiful Umatilla River flows through it. The agency now is near
+Pendleton, Oregon. Thither the Umatillas were removed.</p>
+
+<p>Marlowe Mann went there, and Gretchen as his young wife, and in their home
+Mrs. Woods for many years could have been heard singing hymns.</p>
+
+<p>Their home stood for the Indian race, and the schoolmaster and his wife
+devoted themselves to the cause of Indian education. Through the silent
+influence of Mr. Mann's correspondence with the East, Indian civilization
+was promoted, and the way prepared for the peaceful settlement of the
+great Northwest.</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen taught the Indians as long as she lived. Often at evening, when
+the day's work had been hard, she would take her violin, and a dream of
+music would float upon the air. She played but one tune at last as she
+grew serenely old. That tune recalled her early German home, the Rhine,
+her good father and mother, and the scenes of the great Indian Potlatch on
+the Columbia. It was the <i>Traumerei</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Her poetic imagination, which had been suppressed by her foster-mother in
+her girlhood, came back to her in her new home, and it was her delight to
+express in verse the inspirations of her life amid these new scenes, and
+to publish these poems in the papers of the East that most sympathized
+with the cause of Indian education.</p>
+
+<p>The memory of Benjamin and the old chief of the Cascades never left her.
+It was a never-to-be-forgotten lesson of the nobility of all men whose
+souls have the birthright of heaven. Often, when the wild geese were
+flying overhead in the evening, she would recall Benjamin, and say, &quot;He
+who guides led me here from the Rhine, and schooled me for my work in the
+log school-house on the Columbia.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such is not an overdrawn picture of the early pioneers of the Columbia and
+the great Northwest.</p>
+
+<p>Jason Lee was censured for leaving his mission for the sake of Oregon&mdash;for
+turning his face from the stars to the sun. Whitman, when he appeared
+ragged at Washington, was blamed for having left his post. The early
+pioneers of the great Northwest civilization lie in neglected graves. We
+are now beginning to see the hand of Providence, and to realize how great
+was the work that these people did for their own country and for the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>And Marlowe Mann&mdash;whose name stands for the Christian schoolmaster&mdash;no one
+knows where he sleeps now; perhaps no one, surely but a few. He saw his
+college-mates rise to honor and fame. They offered him positions, but he
+knew his place in the world.</p>
+
+<p>When his hair was turning gray, there came to him an offer of an
+opportunity for wealth, from his remaining relatives. At the same time the
+agency offered him the use of a farm. He accepted the latter for his
+work's sake, and returned to his old friends a loving letter and an old
+poem, and with the latter we will leave this picture of old times on the
+Oregon:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Happy the man whose wish and care<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A few paternal acres bound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Content to breathe his native air<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On his own ground.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose flocks supply him with attire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whose trees in summer yield him shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In winter, fire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Sound sleep by night, study and ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Together mixed sweet recreation;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And innocence, which most doth please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With meditation.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Blessed who can unconcernedly find<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hours, days, and years glide soft away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In health of body, peace of mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quiet by day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Thus let me live unseen, unknown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thus unlamented let me die;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Steal from the world, and not a stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell where I lie.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HISTORICAL_NOTES" id="HISTORICAL_NOTES" />HISTORICAL NOTES.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>I.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="VANCOUVER" id="VANCOUVER" />VANCOUVER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The remarkable progress of the Pacific port cities of Seattle and Tacoma
+make Washington an especially bright, new star on the national flag.
+Surrounded as these cities are with some of the grandest and most poetic
+scenery in the United States, with gigantic forests and rich farm-lands,
+with mountains of ores, with coal-mines, iron-mines, copper-mines, and
+mines of the more precious treasures; washed as they are by the water of
+noble harbors, and smiled upon by skies of almost continuous April
+weather&mdash;there must be a great future before the cities of Puget Sound.</p>
+
+<p>The State of Washington is one of the youngest in the Union, and yet she
+is not too young to celebrate soon the one-hundredth anniversary of
+several interesting events.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the 15th of December, 1790, that Captain George Vancouver
+received his commission as commander of his Majesty's sloop of war the
+Discovery. Three of his officers were Peter Puget, Joseph Baker, and
+Joseph Whidby, whose names now live in Puget Sound&mdash;Mount Baker, and
+Whidby Island.</p>
+
+<p>The great island of British Columbia, and its energetic port city,
+received the name of Vancouver himself, and Vancouver named most of the
+places on Puget Sound in honor of his personal friends. He must have had a
+heart formed for friendship, thus to have immortalized those whom he
+esteemed and loved. It is the discovery and the naming of mountains,
+islands, and ports of the Puget Sound that suggest poetic and patriotic
+celebrations.</p>
+
+<p>The old journals of Vancouver lie before us. In these we read:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From this direction, round by the north and northwest, the high, distant
+land formed, like detached islands, among which the lofty mountains
+discovered in the afternoon by the third lieutenant, and in compliment to
+him called by me Mount Baker, rose to a very conspicuous object.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was on Monday, April 30, 1792, that Mount Baker was thus discovered
+and named. In May, 1792, Vancouver states that he came to a &quot;very safe&quot;
+and &quot;capatious&quot; harbor, and that &quot;to this port I gave the name of Port
+Townshend, in honor of the noble marquis of that name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again, on Thursday, May 29, 1792, Vancouver discovered another excellent
+port, and says:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This harbor, after the gentleman who discovered it, obtained the name of
+Port Orchard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In May, 1792, he makes the following very important historical note:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thus by our joint efforts we had completely explored every turning of
+this extensive inlet; and, to commemorate Mr. Puget's exertions, the
+fourth extremity of it I named Puget Sound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A very interesting officer seems to have been this lieutenant, Peter
+Puget, whose soundings gave the name to the American Mediterranean. Once,
+after the firing of muskets to overawe hostile Indians, who merely pouted
+out their lips, and uttered, &quot;Poo hoo! poo hoo!&quot; he ordered the discharge
+of a heavy gun, and was amused to note the silence that followed. It was
+in April and May, 1792, that Puget explored the violet waters of the great
+inland sea, a work which he seems to have done with the enthusiasm of a
+romancer as well as of a naval officer.</p>
+
+<p>Mount Hood was named for Lord Hood, and Mount Saint Helens was named in
+1792, in the month of October, &quot;in honor of his Britannic Majesty's
+ambassador at the court of Madrid.&quot; But one of the most interesting of all
+of Vancouver's notes is the following:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The weather was serene and pleasant, and the country continued to exhibit
+the same luxuriant appearance. At its northern extremity Mount Baker bore
+compass; the round, snowy mountain, now forming its southern extremity,
+after my friend Rear-Admiral Ranier, I distinguished by the name of Mount
+Ranier, May, 1792.&quot; This mountain is now Mount Tacoma.</p>
+
+<p>The spring of 1892 ought to be historically very interesting to the State
+of Washington, and it is likely to be so.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>II.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="THE_OREGON_TRAIL" id="THE_OREGON_TRAIL" />THE OREGON TRAIL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>&quot;There is the East. There lies the road to India.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such was Senator Thomas H. Benton's view of the coast and harbors of
+Oregon. He saw the advantage of securing to the United States the
+Columbia River and its great basin, and the Puget Sea; and he made himself
+the champion of Oregon and Washington.</p>
+
+<p>In Thomas Jefferson's administration far-seeing people began to talk of a
+road across the continent, and a port on the Pacific. The St. Louis
+fur-traders had been making a way to the Rockies for years, and in 1810
+John Jacob Astor sent a ship around Cape Horn, to establish a post for the
+fur-trade on the Pacific Coast, and also sent an expedition of some sixty
+persons from St. Louis, overland, by the way of the Missouri and
+Yellowstone, to the Columbia River. The pioneer ship was called the
+Tonquin. She arrived at the mouth of the Columbia before the overland
+expedition. These traders came together at last, and founded Astoria, on
+the Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>Ships now began to sail for Astoria, and the trading-post flourished in
+the beautiful climate and amid the majestic scenery. But the English
+claimed the country. In June, 1812, war broke out with England, and
+Astoria became threatened with capture by the English. It was decided by
+Astor's agent to abandon the post; but Astoria had taught the United
+States the value of Oregon.</p>
+
+<p>The Oregon trail from St. Louis, by the way of the great rivers, the
+Missouri, the Yellowstone, and the Columbia, followed the fall of Astoria,
+and began the highway of emigration to the Pacific coast and to Asia. Over
+it the trapper and the missionary began to go. The Methodist missionaries,
+under the leadership of Revs. Jason and Daniel Lee, were among the first
+in the field, and laid the foundations of the early cities of Oregon. One
+of their stations was at the Dalles of the Columbia. In 1835 the great
+missionary, Marcus Whitman, of the Congregationalist Board, established
+the mission at Walla Walla. Yet up to the year 1841, just fifty years ago,
+only about one hundred and fifty Americans, in all, had permanently
+settled in Oregon and Washington.</p>
+
+<p>Senator Benton desired the survey of a route to Oregon, to aid emigration
+to the Columbia basin. He engaged for this service a young, handsome,
+gallant, and chivalrous officer, Lieutenant John C. Fremont, who, with
+Nicollet, a French naturalist, had been surveying the upper Mississippi,
+and opening emigration to Minnesota.</p>
+
+<p>Fremont espoused not only the cause of Oregon, but also Senator Benton's
+young daughter Jessie, who later rendered great personal services to her
+husband's expedition in the Northwest.</p>
+
+<p>Kit Carson was the guide of this famous expedition. The South Pass was
+explored, and the flag planted on what is now known as Fremont's Peak, and
+the country was found to be not the Great American Desert of the maps, but
+a land of wonderful beauty and fertility. In 1843 Fremont made a second
+expedition; this time from the South Pass to the Columbia country. After
+he was well on his way, the War Department recalled him; but Mrs. Fremont
+suppressed the order, in the interest of the expedition, until it was too
+late to reach him.</p>
+
+<p>Fremont went by the way of Salt Lake, struck the Oregon trail, and finally
+came to the mission that Dr. Whitman had founded among the Nez-Perc&eacute;s
+(pierced noses) at Walla Walla. This mission then consisted of a single
+adobe house.</p>
+
+<p>The British claimants of the territory, finding that American immigration
+was increasing, began to bring settlers from the Red River of the North. A
+struggle now began to determine which country should possess this vast and
+most important territory. When Dr. Whitman learned of the new efforts of
+the English to settle the country, and the danger of losing Oregon by
+treaties pending at Washington, he started for St. Louis, by the way of
+Santa F&eacute;. This ride, often called &quot;Whitman's Ride for Oregon,&quot; is one of
+the poetical events of American history. He went to Washington, was
+treated cavalierly by the State Department, but secured a delay of the
+treaties, which proved the means of saving Oregon and Washington to the
+United States.</p>
+
+<p>So his missionary efforts gave to our country an empire that seems
+destined to become ultimate America, and a power in the Asian world.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III" id="III" />III.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="GOVERNOR_STEVENS" id="GOVERNOR_STEVENS" /><a name="Stevens" id="Stevens" />GOVERNOR STEVENS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the long line of brave American soldiers, General Isaac Ingalls Stevens
+deserves a noble rank in the march of history. He was born at Andover,
+Mass., and was educated at West Point, where he was graduated from the
+Military Academy in 1839 with the highest honors. He was on the military
+staff of General Scott in Mexico, and held other honorable positions in
+the Government service in his early life.</p>
+
+<p>But the great period of his life was his survey of the Northern route to
+the Pacific, since largely followed by the Northern Pacific Railroad, and
+his development of Washington Territory as a pioneer Governor. He saw the
+road to China by the way of the Puget Sea, and realized that Washington
+stood for the East of the Eastern Continent and the Western. He seems to
+have felt that here the flag would achieve her greatest destiny, and he
+entered upon his work like a knight who faced the future and not the past.
+His survey of the Northern Pacific route led the march of steam to the
+Puget Sea, and the great steamers have carried it forward to Japan, China,
+and India.</p>
+
+<p>His first message to the Legislature at Olympia (1854) was a map of the
+future and a prophecy. It was a call for roads, schools, a university, and
+immigration. The seal of Washington was made to bear the Indian word
+<i>Alk&eacute;</i>&mdash;&quot;by and by&quot;&mdash;or &quot;in the future.&quot; It also was a prophecy.</p>
+
+<p>He created the counties of Sawanish, Whatcom, Clallam, Chehalis, Cowlitz,
+Wahkiakum, Skamania, and Walla Walla. Olympia was fixed upon as the seat
+of government, and measures were taken by the Government for the
+regulation of the Indian tribes.</p>
+
+<p>Stevens was the military leader of the Indian war. He reduced the tribes
+to submission, and secured a permanent peace. He was elected to Congress
+as a Territorial delegate in 1857, and sought at Washington as earnestly
+as on the Puget Sea the interests of the rising State.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man of great intellect, of a forceful and magnetic presence&mdash;a
+man born to lead in great emergencies. He carried New England ideas and
+traditions to the Pacific, and established them there for all time to
+come, creating there a greater New England which should gather to its
+harbors the commerce of the world.</p>
+
+<p>Governor Stevens was a conservative in politics, but when the news of the
+fall of Sumter thrilled the country, he said to the people of Olympia, &quot;I
+conceive it my duty to stop disunion.&quot; He went to Washington and entered
+the Union service.</p>
+
+<p>He fell like a hero at Chantilly, and under the flag which he had taken
+from his color-bearer, who had received a mortal wound. His was a splendid
+career that the nation should honor. We recently saw his sword and
+historic pictures at the home of his widow and son at Dorchester, Mass.,
+and were impressed with these relics of a spirit that had done so much for
+the progress of the country and mankind.</p>
+
+<p>The State of Washington is his monument, and progressive thought his
+eulogy. His great mind and energy brought order out of chaos, and set the
+flag in whose folds he died forever under the gleaming dome of the
+Colossus of American mountains and over the celestial blue of the Pacific
+harbors of the Puget Sea.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV" />IV.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="SEATTLE_THE_CHIEF" id="SEATTLE_THE_CHIEF" /><a name="Chief_Seattle" id="Chief_Seattle" />SEATTLE THE CHIEF.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Seattle was a Dwamish chief, and a true friend of the white race, whom he
+seemed to follow on account of their superior intelligence. He gave the
+name to an early settlement, which is now a great city, and which seems
+destined to become one of the important port cities of the world; for when
+in 1852, some forty years ago, the pioneers of Alk&eacute; Point left the town
+which they had laid out and called New York, and removed to the other side
+of the bay, they named the place Seattle, from the friendly chief, instead
+of New York. Alk&eacute; means <i>by and by</i> and Seattle is likely to become the
+New York of the Pacific, and one of the great ports for Asiatic trade.
+With the immense agricultural and mineral resources with which it is
+surrounded, with its inexhaustible stores of timber, its sublime scenery
+and delightful climate, with its direct and natural water-road to Japan
+and China, and its opportunity of manufacturing for the Asiatic market the
+kind of goods that England has to carry to the same markets over an
+adventurous course of three times the distance, with the great demand for
+grain among the rice-eating countries of the East&mdash;the mind can not map
+the possibilities of this port city for the next hundred years or more.
+The prophecy of its enterprising citizens, that it will one day be one of
+the great cities in the world, is not unlikely to be realized; and it is
+interesting to ask what was the history of the chief who gave the name to
+this new Troy of the Puget Sea.</p>
+
+<p>He was at this time somewhat advanced in life, a portly man, of benevolent
+face, recalling the picture of Senator Benton, of Missouri, whom he was
+said to resemble. He was the chief of the Dwamishes, a small tribe
+inhabiting the territory around what is now Elliott Bay. He became a
+friend of Dr. Maynard, one of the pioneers of the new town, and of General
+Stevens, the great Territorial Governor. He was well known to Foster,
+Denny, Bell, and Borden, who took claims where the city now stands. His
+last years were passed at Port Madison, where he died in 1866, at a great
+age.</p>
+
+<p>Governor Stevens confirmed his sachemship, and Seattle became the
+protector and the good genius of the town. A curious legend, which seems
+to be well founded, is related of a tax which Seattle levied upon the new
+town, for the sake of the trouble that the name would give him in the
+spiritual world. When a Dwamish Indian lost a near relative of the same
+name by death, he changed his own name, because the name might attract the
+ghost of the deceased, and so cause him to be haunted. The tribe believed
+that departed spirits loved their old habitations, and the associations of
+their names and deeds, and so they changed their names and places on the
+death of relatives, that they might not be disturbed by ghostly
+apparitions.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you ask for a tax?&quot; asked a pioneer of Seattle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The name of the town will call me back after I am dead, and make me
+unhappy. I want my pay for what I shall suffer then, now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I hope that the rapid growth of the great city of the North does not
+disquiet the gentle and benevolent soul of Seattle. The city should raise
+a monument to him, that he may see that he is kindly remembered when he
+comes back to visit the associations of his name and life. Or, better for
+his shade, the city should kindly care for his daughter, poor old Angeline
+Seattle, who at the time of this writing (1890) is a beggar in the streets
+of uplifting commercial palaces and lovely homes!</p>
+
+<p>We visited her in her hut outside of the city some months ago, to ask her
+if she saved Seattle in 1855, by giving information to the pioneers that
+the woods around it were full of lurking Indians, bent on a plot to
+destroy it; for there is a legend that on that shadowy December night,
+when Seattle was in peril, and the council of Indian warriors met and
+resolved to destroy the town before morning, Jim, a friendly Indian, was
+present at the conference as a spy. He found means to warn the pioneers of
+their immediate danger.</p>
+
+<p>The ship of war Decatur, under Captain Gansevoort, lay in the harbor. Jim,
+who had acted in the Indian council, secretly, in the interest of the
+town, had advised the chiefs to defer the attack until early in the
+morning, when the officers of the Decatur would be off their guard.</p>
+
+<p class="figcenter"><a name="Middle_block" id="Middle_block" />
+<a href="./images/242.jpg">
+<img src="./images/242-tb.jpg" alt="Middle block-house at the Cascades."
+title="Middle block-house at the Cascades." /></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><i>Middle block-house at the Cascades.</i></p>
+
+<p>Night fell on the Puget Sea. The people went into the block-house to
+sleep, and the men of the Decatur guarded the town, taking their stations
+on shore. As the night deepened, a thousand hostile Indians crept up to
+the place and awaited the morning, when the guard should go on board the
+ship for breakfast, and the people should come out of the block-house and
+go to their houses, and &quot;set the gun behind the door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was on this night, according to the legend, that &quot;Old Angeline,&quot; as she
+is now called, became the messenger that saved the inhabitants from
+destruction.</p>
+
+<p>The legend has been doubted; and when we asked the short, flat-faced old
+woman, as she answered our knock, if she was the daughter of the chief who
+saved Seattle, she simply said, &quot;Chief,&quot; grinned, and made a bow. She was
+ready to accept the traditional honors of the wild legend worthy of the
+pen of a Cooper.</p>
+
+<p>On returning from our visit to old Angeline, we asked Hon. Henry Yesler,
+the now rich pioneer, why the princess was not better cared for by the
+people of the city. He himself had been generous to her. &quot;Why,&quot; he said,
+&quot;if you were to give her fifty dollars, she would give it all away before
+night!&quot; Benevolent old Angeline! She ought to live in a palace instead of
+a hovel! Mr. Yesler doubted the local legend, but I still wished to
+believe it to be true.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>V.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The story of &quot;Whitman's Ride for Oregon&quot; has been told in verse by the
+writer of this volume, as follows:</p>
+
+<h3><a name="RIDE_FOR_OREGON" id="RIDE_FOR_OREGON" /><a name="Whitman_s_Ride" id="Whitman_s_Ride" />WHITMAN'S RIDE FOR OREGON.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">I.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;An empire to be lost or won!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And who four thousand miles will ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And climb to heaven the Great Divide,<br /></span>
+<span>And find the way to Washington,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through mountain ca&ntilde;ons, winter snows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er streams where free the north wind blows?<br /></span>
+<span>Who, who will ride from Walla-Walla,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Four thousand miles, for Oregon?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">II.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;An empire to be lost or won?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In youth to man I gave my all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And naught is yonder mountain wall;<br /></span>
+<span>If but the will of Heaven be done,<br /></span>
+<span>It is not mine to live or die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or count the mountains low or high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or count the miles from Walla-Walla.<br /></span>
+<span>I, I will ride for Oregon!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Twas thus that Whitman made reply.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">III.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;An empire to be lost or won?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bring me my Cayuse pony, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I will thread old ways again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beneath the gray skies' crystal sun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">'Twas on those altars of the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I raised the flag, and saw below<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The measureless Columbia flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Bible oped, and bowed in prayer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And gave myself to God anew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And felt my spirit newly born;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And to my mission I'll be true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And from the vale of Walla-Walla<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll ride again for Oregon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">IV.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;I'm not my own; myself I've given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To bear to savage hordes the Word;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If on the altars of the heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'm called to die, it is the Lord.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The herald may not wait or choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Tis his the summons to obey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To do his best, or gain or lose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To seek the Guide and not the way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He must not miss the cross, and I<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have ceased to think of life or death;<br /></span>
+<span>My ark I've builded&mdash;heaven is nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And earth is but a morning's breath!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Go, then, my Cayuse pony bring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hopes that seek myself are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And from the vale of Walla-Walla<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll ride again for Oregon.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">V.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>He disappeared, as not his own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He heard the warning ice winds sigh;<br /></span>
+<span>The smoky sun-flames o'er him shone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On whitened altars of the sky,<br /></span>
+<span>As up the mountain-sides he rose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wandering eagle round him wheeled,<br /></span>
+<span>The partridge fled, the gentle roes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And oft his Cayuse pony reeled<br /></span>
+<span>Upon some dizzy crag, and gazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Down cloudy chasms, falling storms,<br /></span>
+<span>While higher yet the peaks upraised<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Against the winds their giant forms.<br /></span>
+<span>On, on and on, past Idaho,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On past the mighty Saline sea,<br /></span>
+<span>His covering at night the snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His only sentinel a tree.<br /></span>
+<span>On, past Portneuf's basaltic heights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On where the San Juan Mountains lay,<br /></span>
+<span>Through sunless days and starless nights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Toward Taos and far Sante F&eacute;.<br /></span>
+<span>O'er table-lands of sleet and hail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through pine-roofed gorges, ca&ntilde;ons cold,<br /></span>
+<span>Now fording streams incased in mail<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of ice, like Alpine knights of old,<br /></span>
+<span>Still on, and on, forgetful on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till far behind lay Walla-Walla,<br /></span>
+<span>And far the fields of Oregon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">VI.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">The winter deepened, sharper grew<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hail and sleet, the frost and snow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Not e'en the eagle o'er him new,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And scarce the partridge's wing below.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The land became a long white sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then a deep with scarce a coast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The stars refused their light, till he<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was in the wildering mazes lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He dropp&egrave;d rein, his stiffened hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was like a statue's hand of clay!<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;My trusty beast, 'tis the command;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go on, I leave to thee the way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I must go on, I must go on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whatever lot may fall to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On, 'tis for others' sake I ride&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For others I may never see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And dare thy clouds, O Great Divide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not for myself, O Walla-Walla,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Not for myself, O Washington,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But for thy future, Oregon.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">VII.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>And on and on the dumb beast pressed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Uncertain, and without a guide,<br /></span>
+<span>And found the mountain's curves of rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sheltered ways of the Divide.<br /></span>
+<span>His feet grew firm, he found the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With storm-beat limbs and frozen breath,<br /></span>
+<span>As keen his instincts to obey<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As was his master's eye of faith&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span>Still on and on, still on and on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And far and far grew Walla-Walla,<br /></span>
+<span>And far the fields of Oregon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">VIII.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>That spring, a man with frozen feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Came to the marble halls of state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And told his mission but to meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The chill of scorn, the scoff of hate.<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;Is Oregon worth saving?&quot; asked<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The treaty-makers from the coast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And him the Church with questions tasked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And said, &quot;Why did you leave your post?&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>Was it for this that he had braved<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The warring storms of mount and sky?<br /></span>
+<span>Yes!&mdash;yet that empire he had saved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And to his post went back to die&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span>Went back to die for others' sake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Went back to die from Washington,<br /></span>
+<span>Went back to die for Walla-Walla,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Idaho and Oregon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">IX.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>At fair Walla-Walla one may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The city of the Western North,<br /></span>
+<span>And near it graves unmarked there be<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That cover souls of royal worth;<br /></span>
+<span>The flag waves o'er them in the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beneath whose stars are cities born,<br /></span>
+<span>And round them mountain-castled lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hundred states of Oregon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI" />VI.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="MOUNT_SAINT_HELENS" id="MOUNT_SAINT_HELENS" /><a name="Helens" id="Helens" />MOUNT SAINT HELENS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>We refer to the snowy range to the west, which terminates in the great
+dome that now bears that name. There was once a great lava-flood in the
+Northwest, and Mount Hood, Mount Adams, Mount Saint Helens, and Mount
+Tacoma (Rainier) are but great ash-heaps that were left by the stupendous
+event.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 14881-h.txt or 14881-h.zip *******</p>
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+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
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diff --git a/14881-h/music/traumerei.ly b/14881-h/music/traumerei.ly
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99aa2ab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/14881-h/music/traumerei.ly
@@ -0,0 +1,179 @@
+     \version "2.4.2"
+\header {
+       title = "Traumerei"
+       composer = "By Robert Schumann,"
+       arranger = "simplified by F. Brandeis."
+       meter = "Andante espressivo."
+     }
+
+     global = {
+        \time 4/4
+        \key f \major
+     }
+
+     upper = \relative c' {
+       \clef treble
+
+       \partial 4*1
+       c4(
+       \repeat volta 2 { f2~ f8 e f a)
+       c( f) f2( e8 d)
+       c( f g, a bes d f, g)
+       a c g2 c,4(
+       f2~ f8 e f a)
+       c( a') a4.( g8 f e
+       f a d, f e4. ees8
+       d g, e'4 c4.) c,8 }
+       f2~( f8) e f a
+       c ees ees2 d8( c
+       bes d g, a bes g r a g4. d8 <bes d>4) r8 f'
+       bes2( c8)( a bes d)
+       f( bes bes2) a8 g
+       f( a d, e f d) r e(
+       d a) r a a4 g8\fermata c,(
+       f2~ f8 e f a)
+       c( f) f2( e8 d)
+       c( f g, a bes d f, g
+       a c g2) c,4
+       f2~( f8 e f a)
+       c a' a4.\fermata g8( f d
+       c f) g,( a bes d) g,( a
+       bes d) d,( e f4) \bar ".|."
+     }
+
+     lower = \relative c {
+       \clef bass
+
+       \partial 4*1
+       r4
+       \repeat volta 2 { f( a c a)
+       f( d'2 c8 bes)
+       a4( bes8 a) g4( a8 g)
+       f( a c d c bes g) a
+       f4( a c a)
+       f'( cis e a,)
+       d( f8 aes, g c e a,
+       b4 a8 b c d bes g) }
+       a4( c f, c')
+       a( g fis a)
+       g4.( c8 d4) bes8( c
+       bes d g, a~ a g4 a8)
+       bes4( d e d)
+       bes( g cis e)
+       d( f8 g a4) f8( g)
+       f4( d8 e f bes, e)\fermata r
+       f,4( a c a)
+       f( d'2 c8 bes)
+       a4( bes8 a g4 a8 g)
+       f( a c d c bes g a)
+       f4( a c a)
+       f( b8 d e4 g,)
+       a bes8( a g4) bes8( a
+       g4) bes8( e, <f a>4) \bar ".|."
+     }
+
+     dynamics = {
+       \partial 4*1
+       s4\p
+       \repeat volta 2 { s1
+       s
+       s4 s8\> s\! s4 s8\< s\!
+       s4 s2\> s8\! s
+       s2 s4\< s\!
+       s4 s\sfz s2
+       s4.\> s8\! s2
+       s1^\markup { \italic rit. } }
+       s4 s\< s s8 s\!
+       s1
+       s
+       s
+       s
+       s2..\< s8\!
+       s4 s8\< s\! s2
+       s2..^\markup { \italic rit. } s8\p
+       s2^\markup { \italic a tempo. } s8 s\< s s\!
+       s1
+       s
+       s
+       s2 s4.\< s8\!
+       s4 s4.\sfz s8\> s s\!
+       s1^\markup { ritardando. }
+       s\pp
+     }
+
+     tempomod = {
+       \partial 4*1
+       s4
+       \repeat volta 2 { s1 s s s s s s
+       s8 \tempo 4=58 s \tempo 4=56 s \tempo 4=54 s \tempo 4=52 s \tempo 4=50 s \tempo 4=48 s \tempo 4=46 s \tempo 4=60 }
+       s1 s s s s s s
+       s8 \tempo 4=57 s \tempo 4=54 s \tempo 4=51 s \tempo 4=48 s \tempo 4=45 s \tempo 4=20 s \tempo 4=40 s \tempo 4=60
+       s1 s s s s
+       s2 \tempo 4=35 s8 \tempo 4=60 s4.
+       s8 \tempo 4=59 s \tempo 4=58 s \tempo 4=57 s \tempo 4=56 s \tempo 4=55 s \tempo 4=54 s \tempo 4=53 s \tempo 4=52
+       s8 \tempo 4=51 s \tempo 4=50 s \tempo 4=49 s \tempo 4=48 s \tempo 4=47 s \tempo 4=46 s4
+     }
+
+
+     \score {
+       \context PianoStaff <<
+         \context Staff=upper \global \upper
+         \context Dynamics=dynamics \dynamics
+         \context Staff=lower <<
+           \global
+           \lower
+         >>
+       >>
+       \layout {
+         \context {
+           \type "Engraver_group_engraver"
+           \name Dynamics
+           \alias Voice % So that \cresc works, for example.
+           \consists "Output_property_engraver"
+
+           minimumVerticalExtent = #'(-1 . 1)
+
+           \consists "Script_engraver"
+           \consists "Dynamic_engraver"
+           \consists "Text_engraver"
+
+           \override TextScript #'font-size = #2
+           \override TextScript #'font-shape = #'italic
+           \override DynamicText #'extra-offset = #'(0 . 2.5)
+           \override Hairpin #'extra-offset = #'(0 . 2.5)
+
+           \consists "Skip_event_swallow_translator"
+
+           \consists "Axis_group_engraver"
+         }
+         \context {
+           \PianoStaff
+           \accepts Dynamics
+           \override VerticalAlignment #'forced-distance = #7
+         }
+       }
+     }
+
+     \score {
+       \unfoldrepeats {
+       \context PianoStaff <<
+          \context Staff=upper \global \upper
+         \context Dynamics=dynamics \dynamics
+         \context Staff=lower <<
+           {\global \lower }
+           \tempomod
+         >>
+       >> }
+       \midi { \tempo 4=60
+         \context {
+           \type "Performer_group_performer"
+           \name Dynamics
+           \consists "Span_dynamic_performer"
+           \consists "Dynamic_performer"
+         }
+         \context {
+           \PianoStaff
+           \accepts Dynamics
+         }
+       }
+     }
diff --git a/14881-h/music/traumerei.midi b/14881-h/music/traumerei.midi
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66045b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/14881-h/music/traumerei.midi
diff --git a/14881.txt b/14881.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd6bddb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/14881.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6144 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Log School-House on the Columbia, by
+Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Log School-House on the Columbia
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: February 2, 2005  [eBook #14881]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE
+COLUMBIA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Emmy and Ben Beasley, Audrey Longhurst, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 14881-h.htm or 14881-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/8/14881/14881-h/14881-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/8/14881/14881-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA
+
+A Tale of the Pioneers of the Great Northwest
+
+by
+
+HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH
+
+Author of the Zigzag Books
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+1890
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+New York
+D. Appleton and Company
+
+
+[Illustration: _Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast._]
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+A year or more ago one of the librarians in charge of the young people's
+books in the Boston Public Library called my attention to the fact that
+there were few books of popular information in regard to the pioneers of
+the great Northwest. The librarian suggested that I should write a story
+that would give a view of the heroic lives of the pioneers of Oregon and
+Washington.
+
+Soon after this interview I met a distinguished educator who had lately
+returned from the Columbia River, who told me the legend of the old chief
+who died of grief in the grave of his son, somewhat in the manner
+described in this volume. The legend had those incidental qualities that
+haunt a susceptible imagination, and it was told to me in such a dramatic
+way that I could not put it out of my mind.
+
+A few weeks after hearing this haunting legend I went over the Rocky
+Mountains by the Canadian Pacific Railway, and visited the Columbia River
+and the scenes associated with the Indian story. I met in Washington,
+Yesler, Denney, and Hon. Elwood Evans, the historian; visited the daughter
+of Seattle, the chief, "Old Angeline"; and gathered original stories in
+regard to the pioneers of the Puget Sound country from many sources. In
+this atmosphere the legend grew upon me, and the outgrowth of it is this
+volume, which, amid a busy life of editorial and other work, has forced
+itself upon my experience.
+
+                                                H.B.
+
+    28 WORCESTER STREET, BOSTON, July 4, 1890
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+CHAPTER
+
+    I.  GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN
+
+   II.  THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES
+
+  III.  "BOSTON TILICUM"
+
+   IV.  MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR, LITTLE "ROLL OVER"
+
+    V.  THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE
+
+   VI.  THE MOUNTAIN LION
+
+  VII.  THE "SMOKE-TALK"
+
+ VIII.  THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST OF THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI
+
+   IX.  GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES
+
+    X.  MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE "ROLL OVER" AGAIN
+
+   XI.  MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
+
+  XII.  OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING
+
+ XIII.  A WARNING
+
+  XIV.  THE POTLATCH
+
+   XV.  THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN
+
+  XVI.  A SILENT TRIBE
+
+ XVII.  A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE
+
+XVIII.  THE LIFTED CLOUD--THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER
+
+
+HISTORICAL NOTES.
+
+  I.  Vancouver
+
+ II.  The Oregon Trail
+
+III.  Governor Stevens
+
+ IV.  Seattle the Chief
+
+  V.  Whitman's Ride for Oregon
+
+ VI.  Mount Saint Helens
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+Gretchen at the Potlatch Feast      E. J. Austen (Frontispiece)
+
+Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls
+
+"Here were mountains grander than Olympus."
+  The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma
+
+In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of
+  the cabin      A. E. Pope
+
+The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag streamed
+  after him in his talons      E.J. Austen
+
+The mountain lion      D. Carter Beard
+
+An Indian village on the Columbia
+
+Afar loomed Mount Hood
+
+A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn
+
+At the Cascades of the Columbia
+
+Multnomah Falls in earlier years.
+            Redrawn by Walter C. Greenough
+
+The old chief stood stoical and silent. E. J. Austen
+
+Middle block-house at the Cascades
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+GRETCHEN'S VIOLIN.
+
+
+An elderly woman and a German girl were walking along the old Indian trail
+that led from the northern mountains to the Columbia River. The river was
+at this time commonly called the Oregon, as in Bryant's poem:
+
+            "Where rolls the Oregon,
+    And no sound is heard save its own dashings."
+
+The girl had a light figure, a fair, open face, and a high forehead with
+width in the region of ideality, and she carried under her arm a long
+black case in which was a violin. The woman had lived in one of the
+valleys of the Oregon for several years, but the German girl had recently
+arrived in one of the colonies that had lately come to the territory
+under the missionary agency of the Rev. Jason Lee.
+
+There came a break in the tall, cool pines that lined the trail and that
+covered the path with glimmering shadows. Through the opening the high
+summits of Mount St. Helens glittered like a city of pearl, far, far away
+in the clear, bright air. The girl's blue eyes opened wide, and her feet
+stumbled.
+
+"There, there you go again down in the hollow! Haven't you any eyes? I
+would think you had by the looks of them. Well, Gretchen, they were placed
+right in the front of your head so as to look forward; they would have
+been put in the top of your head if it had been meant that you should look
+up to the sky in that way. What is it you see?"
+
+"Oh, mother, I wish I was--an author."
+
+"An author! What put that into your simple head? You meant to say you
+would like to be a poet, but you didn't dare to, because you know I don't
+approve of such things. People who get such flighty ideas into their loose
+minds always find the world full of hollows. No, Gretchen, I am willing
+you should play on the violin, though some of the Methody do not approve
+of that; and that you should finger the musical glasses in the
+evening--they have a religious sound and soothe me, like; but the reading
+of poetry and novels I never did countenance, except Methody hymns and the
+'Fool of Quality,' and as for the writing of poetry, it is a Boston notion
+and an ornary habit. Nature is all full of poetry out here, and what this
+country needs is pioneers, not poets."
+
+There came into view another opening among the pines as the two went on.
+The sun was ascending a cloudless sky, and far away in the cerulean arch
+of glimmering splendors the crystal peaks and domes of St. Helens appeared
+again.
+
+The girl stopped.
+
+"What now?" said the woman, testily.
+
+"Look--yonder!"
+
+"Look yonder--what for? That's nothing but a mountain, a great waste of
+land all piled up to the sky, and covered with a lot of ice and snow. I
+don't see what they were made for, any way--just to make people go round,
+I suppose, so that the world will not be too easy for them."
+
+"Oh, mother, I do not see how you can feel so out here! I never dreamed of
+anything so beautiful!"
+
+"Feel so out here! What do you mean? Haven't I always been good to you?
+Didn't I give you a good home in Lynn after your father and mother died?
+Wasn't I a mother to you? Didn't I nurse you through the fever? Didn't I
+send for you to come way out here with the immigrants, and did you ever
+find a better friend in the world than I have been to you?"
+
+"Yes, mother, but--"
+
+"And don't I let you play the violin, which the Methody elder didn't much
+approve of?"
+
+"Yes, mother, you have always been good to me, and I love you more than
+anybody else on earth."
+
+There swept into view a wild valley of giant trees, and rose clear above
+it, a scene of overwhelming magnificence.
+
+"Oh, mother, I can hardly look at it--isn't it splendid? It makes me feel
+like crying."
+
+The practical, resolute woman was about to say, "Well, look the other way
+then," but she checked the rude words. The girl had told her that she
+loved her more than any one else in the world, and the confession had
+touched her heart.
+
+"Well, Gretchen, that mountain used to make me feel so sometimes when I
+first came out here. I always thought that the mountains would look
+_peakeder_ than they do. I didn't think that they would take up so much
+of the land. I suppose that they are all well enough in their way, but a
+pioneer woman has no time for sentiments, except hymns. I don't feel like
+you now, and I don't think that I ever did. I couldn't learn to play the
+violin and the musical glasses if I were to try, and I am sure that I
+should never go out into the woodshed to try to rhyme _sun_ with _fun_;
+no, Gretchen, all such follies as these I should _shun_. What difference
+does it make whether a word rhymes with one word or another?"
+
+To the eye of the poetic and musical German girl the dead volcano, with
+its green base and frozen rivers and dark, glimmering lines of carbon,
+seemed like a fairy tale, a celestial vision, an ascent to some city of
+crystal and pearl in the sky. To her foster mother the stupendous scene
+was merely a worthless waste, as to Wordsworth's unspiritual wanderer:
+
+    "A primrose by the river's brim,
+     A yellow primrose was to him,
+     And it was nothing more."
+
+She was secretly pleased at Gretchen's wonder and surprise at the new
+country, but somehow she felt it her duty to talk querulously, and to
+check the flow of the girl's emotions, which she did much to excite. Her
+own life had been so circumscribed and hard that the day seemed to be too
+bright to be speaking the truth. She peered into the sky for a cloud, but
+there was none, on this dazzling Oregon morning. The trail now opened for
+a long way before the eyes of the travelers. Far ahead gleamed the
+pellucid waters of the Columbia, or Oregon. Half-way between them and the
+broad, rolling river a dark, tall figure appeared.
+
+"Gretchen?"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"Gretchen, look! There goes the Yankee schoolmaster. Came way out here
+over the mountains to teach the people of the wilderness, and all for
+nothing, too. That shows that people have souls--some people have. Walk
+right along beside me, proper-like. You needn't ever tell any one that I
+ain't your true mother. If I ain't ashamed of you, you needn't be ashamed
+of me. I wish that you were my own girl, now that you have said that you
+love me more than anybody else in the world. That remark kind o' touched
+me. I know that I sometimes talk hard, but I mean well, and I have to tell
+you the plain truth so as to do my duty by you, and then I won't have
+anything to reflect upon.
+
+"Just look at him! Straight as an arrow! They say that his folks are
+rich. Come out here way over the mountains, and is just going to teach
+school in a log school-house--all made of logs and sods and mud-plaster,
+adobe they call it--a graduate of Harvard College, too."
+
+A long, dark object appeared in the trees covered with bark and moss.
+Behind these trees was a waterfall, over which hung the crowns of pines.
+The sunlight sifted through the odorous canopy, and fell upon the strange,
+dark object that lay across the branching limbs of two ancient trees.
+
+Gretchen stopped again.
+
+"Mother, what is that?"
+
+"A grave--an Indian grave."
+
+The Indians bury their dead in the trees out here, or used to do so. A
+brown hawk arose from the mossy coffin and winged its way wildly into the
+sunny heights of the air. It had made its nest on the covering of the
+body. These new scenes were all very strange to the young German girl.
+
+The trail was bordered with young ferns; wild violets lay in beds of
+purple along the running streams, and the mountain phlox with its kindling
+buds carpeted the shelving ways under the murmuring pines. The woman and
+girl came at last to a wild, open space; before them rolled the Oregon,
+beyond it stretched a great treeless plain, and over it towered a gigantic
+mountain, in whose crown, like a jewel, shone a resplendent glacier.
+
+Just before them, on the bluffs of the river, under three gigantic
+evergreens, each of which was more than two hundred feet high, stood an
+odd structure of logs and sods, which the builders called the Sod
+School-house. It was not a sod school-house in the sense in which the term
+has been applied to more recent structures in the treeless prairie
+districts of certain mid-ocean States; it was rudely framed of pine, and
+was furnished with a pine desk and benches.
+
+Along the river lay a plateau full of flowers, birds, and butterflies, and
+over the great river and flowering plain the clear air glimmered. Like
+some sun-god's abode in the shadow of ages, St. Helens still lifted her
+silver tents in the far sky. Eagles and mountain birds wheeled, shrieking
+joyously, here and there. Below the bluffs the silent salmon-fishers
+awaited their prey, and down the river with paddles apeak drifted the bark
+canoes of Cayuses and Umatillas.
+
+[Illustration: _Indians spearing fish at Salmon Falls._]
+
+A group of children were gathered about the open door of the new
+school-house, and among them rose the tall form of Marlowe Mann, the
+Yankee schoolmaster.
+
+He had come over the mountains some years before in the early expeditions
+organized and directed by Dr. Marcus Whitman, of the American Board of
+Missions. Whether the mission to the Cayuses and Walla Wallas, which Dr.
+Whitman established on the bend of the Columbia, was then regarded as a
+home or foreign field of work, we can not say. The doctor's solitary ride
+of four thousand miles, in order to save the great Northwest territory to
+the United States, is one of the most poetic and dramatic episodes of
+American history. It has proved to be worth to our country more than all
+the money that has been given to missionary enterprises. Should the Puget
+Sound cities become the great ports of Asia, and the ships of commerce
+drift from Seattle and Tacoma over the Japan current to the Flowery Isles
+and China; should the lumber, coal, minerals, and wheat-fields of
+Washington, Oregon, Montana, and Idaho at last compel these cities to
+rival New York and Boston, the populous empire will owe to the patriotic
+missionary zeal of Dr. Whitman a debt which it can only pay in honor and
+love. Dr. Whitman was murdered by the Indians soon after the settlement of
+the Walla Walla country by the pioneers from the Eastern States.
+
+Mr. Mann's inspiration to become a missionary pioneer on the Oregon had
+been derived from a Boston schoolmaster whose name also the Northwest
+should honor. An inspired soul with a prophet's vision usually goes before
+the great movements of life; solitary men summon the march of progress,
+then decrease while others increase. Hall J. Kelley was a teacher of the
+olden time, well known in Boston almost a century ago. He became possessed
+with the idea that Oregon was destined to become a great empire. He
+collected all possible information about the territory, and organized
+emigration schemes, the first of which started from St. Louis in 1828, and
+failed. He talked of Oregon continually. The subject haunted him day and
+night. It was he who inspired Rev. Jason Lee, the pioneer of the
+Willamette Valley. Lee interested Senator Linn, of Missouri, in Oregon,
+and this senator, on December 11, 1838, introduced the bill into Congress
+which organized the Territory.
+
+Some of the richly endowed new schools of Oregon would honor history by a
+monumental recognition of the name of Hall J. Kelley, the old
+schoolmaster, whose dreams were of the Columbia, and who inspired some of
+his pupils to become resolute pioneers. Boston was always a friend to
+Washington and Oregon. Where the old schoolmaster now rests we do not
+know. Probably in a neglected grave amid the briers and mosses of some old
+cemetery on the Atlantic coast.
+
+When Marlowe Mann came to the Northwest he found the Indian tribes unquiet
+and suspicious of the new settlements. One of the pioneers had caused a
+sickness among some thievish Indians by putting emetic poison in
+watermelons. The Indians believed these melons to have been conjured by
+the white doctor, and when other sickness came among them, they attributed
+it to the same cause. The massacre at Wauelaptu and the murder of Whitman
+grew in part out of these events.
+
+Mr. Mann settled near the old Chief of the Cascades. He sought the Indian
+friendship of this chief, and asked him for his protection.
+
+"People fulfill the expectation of the trust put in them--Indians as well
+as children," he used to say. "A boy fulfills the ideals of his
+mother--what the mother believes the boy will be, that he will become.
+Treat a thief as though he were honest, and he will be honest with you. We
+help people to be better by believing in what is good in them. I am going
+to trust the friendship of the old Chief of the Cascades, and he will
+never betray it."
+
+It was summer, and there was to be a great Indian Potlatch feast under the
+autumn moon. The Potlatch is a feast of gifts. It is usually a peaceful
+gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances; but it bodes
+war and massacre and danger if it end with the dance of the evil spirits,
+or the devil dance, as it has been known--a dance which the English
+Government has recently forbidden among the Northwestern tribes.
+
+The Indians were demanding that the great fall Potlatch should end with
+this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of blood. The white people
+everywhere were disturbed by these reports, for they feared what might be
+the secret intent of this wild revel. The settlers all regarded with
+apprehension the October moon.
+
+The tall schoolmaster watched the approach of Mrs. Woods and Gretchen with
+a curious interest. The coming of a pupil with no books and a violin was
+something unexpected. He stepped forward with a courtly grace and greeted
+them most politely, for wherever Marlowe Mann might be, he never forgot
+that he was a gentleman.
+
+"This is my gal what I have brought to be educated," said Mrs. Woods,
+proudly. "They think a great deal of education up around Boston where I
+came from. Where did you come from?"
+
+"From Boston."
+
+"So I have been told--from Harvard College. Can I speak with you a minute
+in private?"
+
+"Yes, madam. Step aside."
+
+"I suppose you are kinder surprised that I let my gal there, Gretchen,
+bring her violin with her; but I have a secret to tell ye. Gretchen is a
+kind of a poet, makes rhymes, she does; makes _fool_ rhyme with _school_,
+and such things as that. Now, I don't take any interest in such things.
+But she does play the violin beautiful. Learned of a German teacher. Now,
+do you want to know why I let her bring her violin? Well, I thought it
+might _help_ you. You've got a hard lot of scholars to deal with out here,
+and there are Injuns around, too, and one never knows what they may do.
+
+"Well, schoolmaster, you never heard nothin' like that violin. It isn't no
+evil spirit that is in Gretchen's violin; it's an angel. I first noticed
+it one day when husband and I had been havin' some words. We have words
+sometimes. I have a lively mind, and know how to use words when I am
+opposed. Well, one day when husband and I had been havin' words, which we
+shouldn't, seein' we are Methody, Gretchen began to cry, and went and got
+her violin, and began to play just like a bird. And my high temper all
+melted away, and my mind went back to the old farm in New England, and I
+declare, schoolmaster, I just threw my apron over my head and began to
+cry, and I told Gretchen never to play that tune again when I was talking
+to husband for his good.
+
+"Well, one day there came a lot of Injuns to the house and demanded
+fire-water. I am Methody, and don't keep any such things in the house.
+Husband is a sober, honest man. Now, I've always noticed that an Injun is
+a coward, and I think the best way to get along with Injuns is to appear
+not to fear them. So I ordered the stragglers away, when one of them swung
+his tommyhawk about my head, and the others threatened to kill me. How my
+heart did beat! Gretchen began to cry; then she ran all at once for her
+violin and played the very same tune, and the Injuns just stood like so
+many dumb statues and listened, and, when the tune was over, one of them
+said 'Spirits,' and they all went away like so many children.
+
+"Now, I thought you would like to hear my gal play between schools, and,
+if ever you should get into any trouble with your scholars or Injuns or
+anybody, just call upon Gretchen, and she will play that tune on the
+violin."
+
+"What wonderful tune is it, madam?"
+
+"I don't know. I don't know one tune from another, though I do sing the
+old Methody hymns that I learned in Lynn when I am about my work. I don't
+know whether she knows or not. She learned it of a German."
+
+"I am glad that you let her bring the instrument. I once played the violin
+myself in the orchestra of the Boston Handel and Haydn Society."
+
+"Did you? Then you like it. I have a word or two more to say about
+Gretchen. She's a good gal, and shows her bringing up. Teach her reading,
+writing, and figures. You needn't teach her no grammar. I could always
+talk without any grammar, in the natural way. I was a bound-girl, and
+never had much education. I have had my ups and downs in life, like all
+the rest of the world. You will do the best you can for Gretchen, won't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, my dear madam, and for every one. I try to make every one true to
+the best that is in them. I am glad to have Gretchen for a scholar. I will
+speak to her by and by."
+
+How strange was the scene to Gretchen! She remembered the winding Rhine,
+with its green hills and terraced vineyards and broken-walled castles;
+Basel and the singing of the student clubs in the gardens on summer
+evenings; the mountain-like church at Strasburg; and the old streets of
+Mayence. She recalled the legends and music of the river of song--a river
+that she had once thought to be the most beautiful on earth. But what were
+the hills of the Rhine to the scenery that pierced the blue sky around
+her, and how light seemed the river itself to the majestic flow of the
+Columbia! Yet the home-land haunted her. Would she go back again? How
+would her real parents have felt had they known that she would have found
+a home here in the wilderness? Why had Providence led her steps here? Her
+mother had been a pious Lutheran. Had she been led here to help in some
+future mission to the Indian race?
+
+"Dreaming?" said Mrs. Woods. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. If a
+body has the misfortune to be kiting off to the clouds, going up like an
+eagle and coming down like a goose, it can't be helped. There are a great
+many things that can't be helped in this world, and all we can do is to
+make the best of them. Some people were born to live in the skies, and it
+makes it hard for those who have to try to live with them. Job suffered
+some things, but--I won't scold out here--I have my trials; but it may be
+they are all for the best, as the Scripture says."
+
+These forbearing remarks were not wholly meant for Gretchen's reproval.
+Mrs. Woods liked to have the world know that she had her trials, and she
+was pleased to find so many ears on this bright morning open to her
+experiences.
+
+She liked to say to Gretchen things that were meant for other ears; there
+was novelty in the indirection. She also was accustomed to quote freely
+from the Scriptures and from the Methodist hymnbook, which was almost her
+only accomplishment. She had led a simple, hard-working life in her
+girlhood; had become a follower of Jason Lee during one of the old-time
+revivals of religion; had heard of the Methodist emigration to Oregon, and
+wished to follow it. She hardly knew why. Though rough in speech and
+somewhat peculiar, she was a kind-hearted and an honest woman, and very
+industrious and resolute. Mr. Lee saw in her the spirit of a pioneer, and
+advised her to join his colony. She married Mr. Woods, went to the Dalles
+of the Columbia, and afterward to her present home upon a donation claim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.
+
+
+Marlowe Mann was a graduate of Harvard in the classic period of the
+college. He had many scholarly gifts, and as many noble qualities of soul
+as mental endowments. He was used to the oratory of Henry Ware and young
+Edward Everett, and had known Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips at
+college, when the Greek mind and models led the young student in his fine
+development, and made him a Pericles in his dreams.
+
+But the young student of this heroic training, no matter how well
+conditioned his family, usually turned from his graduation to some
+especial mission in life. "I must put myself into a cause," said young
+Wendell Phillips. Charles Sumner espoused the struggle of the negro for
+freedom, and said: "To this cause do I offer all I have." Marlowe Mann was
+a member of the historic Old South Church, like Phillips in his early
+years. There was an enthusiasm for missions in the churches of Boston
+then, and he began to dream of Oregon and the mysterious empire of the
+great Northwest, as pictured by the old schoolmaster, Kelley; just at this
+time came Dr. Whitman to the East, half frozen from his long ride, and
+asked to lead an emigration to Walla Walla, to save the Northern empire to
+the territory of the States. He heard the doctor's thrilling story of how
+he had unfurled the flag over the open Bible on the crags that looked down
+on the valleys of the Oregon, and his resolution was made. He did not
+follow Dr. Whitman on the first expedition of colonists, but joined him a
+year or two afterward. He built him a log-cabin on the Columbia, and gave
+his whole soul to teaching, missionary work among the Indians, and to
+bringing emigrants from the East.
+
+The country thrilled him--its magnificent scenery, the grandeur of the
+Columbia, the vastness of the territory, and the fertility of the soil.
+Here were mountains grander than Olympus, and harbors and water-courses as
+wonderful as the AEgean. He was almost afraid to map the truth in his
+extensive correspondence with the East, lest it should seem so incredible
+as to defeat his purpose.
+
+[Illustration: _The North Puyallup Glacier, Mount Tacoma._]
+
+When the log school-house was building, Mr. Mann had gone to the old
+Chief of the Cascades and had invited him to send his Indian boy to the
+school. He had shown him what an advantage it would be to the young chief
+to understand more thoroughly Chinook and English. He was wise and politic
+in the matter as well as large-hearted, for he felt that the school might
+need the friendliness of the old chief, and in no way could it be better
+secured.
+
+"The world treats you as you treat the world," he said; "and what you are
+to the world, the world is to you. Tell me only what kind of a
+neighborhood you come from, and I will tell you what kind of a
+neighborhood you are going to; we all see the world in ourselves. I will
+educate the boy, and his father will protect the school. The Indian heart
+is hot and revengeful, but it is honest and true. I intend to be honest
+with the Indians in all things, and if there should occur a dance of the
+evil spirits at the Potlatch, no harm will ever come to the log
+school-house; and I do not believe that such a dance with evil intent to
+the settlers will ever take place. Human nature is all one book
+everywhere."
+
+As he stood there that morning, with uncovered head, an unexpected event
+happened. The children suddenly said:
+
+"Look!" and "Umatilla!"
+
+Out of the forest came an aged Indian, of gigantic stature--Umatilla, one
+of the chiefs of the Cascades; and beside him walked his only son, the
+Light of the Eagle's Plume, or, as he had been named by the English,
+Benjamin.
+
+Umatilla, like Massasoit, of the early colonial history of Plymouth, was a
+remarkable person. Surrounded by warlike tribes, he had been a man of
+peace. He was a lover of Nature, and every shining cloud to his eye was a
+chariot. He personified everything, like the ancient Greeks. He talked in
+poetic figures; to him the sky was alive, every event had a soul, and his
+mind had dwelt upon the great truths of Nature until he had become more of
+a philosopher than a ruler.
+
+He had been the father of a large family, but six of his sons had died of
+the plague, or rather of the treatment which the medicine-men had used in
+the disease, which was to sweat the victims in hot earthen ovens, and then
+plunge them into the Columbia.
+
+His whole heart in his old age was fixed upon his only son, Benjamin. The
+two were seldom separated. To make the boy happy was the end of the old
+chief's life.
+
+The two approached the courtly schoolmaster.
+
+"White master," said the old chief, "I have brought to you the Light of
+the Eagle's Plume. He is my heart, and will be the heart of my people when
+my suns are all passed over and my stars gone out. Will you teach him to
+be a good chief? I want him to know English, and how to worship the Master
+of Life. Will you take him to your school lodge?"
+
+The tall master bowed low, and took the Indian boy by the hand.
+
+The boy was a princely youth. His figure would have held the eye of a
+sculptor in long admiration. The chisel of a Phidias could hardly have
+exceeded such a form. His features were like the Roman, his eye quick and
+lustrous, and his lips noble and kindly. He wore a blanket over his
+shoulders, gathered in a long sash, ornamented with shells, about his
+loins, and a crest of eagle plumes and shells on his head indicated his
+rank and dignity. He could speak some words of Chinook, and English
+imperfectly. He had mingled much with the officers of the Hudson Bay
+Company, and so had learned many of the customs of civilization.
+
+"I am honored," said the courtly, tall schoolmaster, "in having such a
+youth for my pupil. Chief of the Umatillas, I thank thee. All that is good
+in me will I give to your noble boy. I live with my eye upon the future;
+the work of my life is to lead people to follow their better natures and
+to be true to their best selves. There is a good angel in all men
+here"--he put his hand on his heart--"it leads men away from evil; it
+seeks the way of life; its end is yonder with the Infinite. Chief of the
+Umatillas, I will try to teach the young man to follow it. Do you
+understand?"
+
+The aged chief bowed. He caught the meaning of the thought, if not of the
+rather formal words. He comprehended the idea that the tall schoolmaster
+believed goodness to be immortal. The regions of the Cascades were indeed
+beautiful with their ancient forests and gleaming mountain walls, but he
+had been taught to believe that the great Master of Life had provided
+eternal scenes that transcended these for those who were worthy to receive
+them.
+
+An unexpected turn came to this stately and pacific interview. Mrs. Woods
+was piqued at the deference that the tall schoolmaster had shown to the
+chief and his son. She walked about restlessly, cut a rod from one of the
+trees with a large knife which she always carried with her, and at last
+called the master aside again.
+
+"Say, mister, here. You ain't going to take that young Injun into your
+school, are you? There'll be trouble, now, if you do. Know Injuns--you
+don't. You are young, but 'tain't best for you to eat all your apples
+green. I've always been very particular about the company I keep, if I was
+born poor and have had to work hard, and never studied no foreign
+languages. I warn you!"
+
+She raised her voice, and Benjamin heard what she had said. He suspected
+her ill-will toward him from her manner, but he comprehended the meaning
+of her last words.
+
+He at first looked puzzled and grieved, then suddenly his thin lips were
+pressed together; the passion of anger was possessing him, soon to be
+followed by the purpose of revenge.
+
+Mrs. Woods saw that she had gone too far in the matter, and that her
+spirit and meaning had been discovered by the son of the chief. The danger
+to which she had exposed herself made her nervous. But she began to act on
+her old principle never to show fear in the presence of an Indian.
+
+"Here, mister, I must go now," she said, in a loud voice. "Take this rod,
+and govern your school like a man. If I were a teacher, I'd make my
+scholars smart in more ways than one." She held out the rod to the master.
+
+There was a movement in the air like a flash. Benjamin, with noiseless
+feet, had slipped up behind her. He had conceived the idea that the offer
+of the rod somehow meant enmity to him. He seized the rod from behind the
+woman, and, sweeping it through the air, with kindled eye and glowing
+cheeks, wheeled before the master.
+
+"Boston tilicum, don't you dare!"
+
+"Boston tilicum" was the Chinook for an American, and the Chinook or trade
+language had become common to all the tribes on the Columbia. The early
+American traders on the Northern Pacific coast were from Boston.
+
+He raised the rod aloft defiantly like a young champion, and presented a
+heroic figure, which excited the tremulous admiration and wonder of the
+little group. He then pointed it toward Mrs. Woods, and said
+contemptuously in Chinook:
+
+"Cloochman!" (woman).
+
+The scene changed to the comical. Mrs. Woods snatched off her broad
+sun-bonnet, revealing her gray hair, and assumed an appearance of
+defiance, though her heart was really trembling with fear.
+
+"I ain't afraid of no Injuns," she said, "and I don't take any impudence
+from anybody. I've had to fight the whole world all my life, and I've
+always conquered. There--now--there!"
+
+She whipped the rod out of the young Indian's hand.
+
+Benjamin's eyes blazed.
+
+"Closche nanitch" (look out), he said. "I am an Umatilla. Siwash (Indian)
+will remember. There are hawks in the sky."
+
+"Kamooks" (dog), returned Mrs. Woods, defiantly. "Kamooks."
+
+She would have said "cultus" had she dared. "Cultus" is the most insulting
+word that can be applied to an Indian, and, when it is used, it invites
+the most deadly revenge. The word had come to her lips, but she had not
+the courage to invoke the consequences of such a taunt.
+
+But the young Indian further excited her. He shook the rod at her, and her
+passion mastered her prudence. She struggled with herself, and was silent
+for a few moments. But, suddenly catching the young Indian's eye, which
+had in it a savage triumph, she exclaimed:
+
+"Cultus Umatilla--"
+
+The old chief stepped forward and lifted his hands.
+
+"Pil-pil" (blood), said Benjamin. "There are hawks in the air--"
+
+"Be still!" said the chief.
+
+"--they whet their beaks," continued Benjamin. "Potlatch!"
+
+The whole company were filled with excitement or terror. Gretchen
+trembled, and began to cry. Three Indians were seen coming down the trail,
+and the sight seemed to fill Benjamin with a mysterious delight. Mrs.
+Woods saw them with secret fear, and the master with apprehension. Several
+of the children began to cry, and there was a look of pain, terror, or
+distress on all the faces.
+
+Suddenly Gretchen stepped apart from the group and lifted to her shoulder
+her violin.
+
+A hunting strain rose on the bright morning air. It seemed like the flight
+of a singing bird.
+
+The chief's arms dropped. The music arose like a sweet memory of all that
+is good and beautiful.
+
+The three Indians stopped to listen. The music became more sweet and
+entrancing. The anger went out of Benjamin's face, and there came better
+feelings into his soul.
+
+The music breathed of the Rhine, of vineyards and festivals, but he
+understood it not; to him it recalled the mysterious legends of the
+Umatillas, the mysteries of life, and the glory of the heroes who slept
+on the island of the dead or amid the sweetly sighing branches of the
+trees. The air was the _Traumerei_.
+
+When the music ceased there was a long silence. In it Mrs. Woods turned
+away slowly, with a word of advice to Gretchen that under other
+circumstances would have appeared amusing:
+
+"Behave yourself like a lady," she said, "and remember your bringing up.
+Good-morning to ye all."
+
+The little group watched her as she moved safely away. A little black bear
+crossed her path as she was entering the wood, and stopped on the way. But
+her steps were growing rapid, and, as she did not seem to regard him as a
+matter of any consequence, he turned and ran. The company smiled, and so
+the peril of the morning seemed to pass away.
+
+The scene would have been comical but for the painful look in the kindly
+face of the old Chief of the Cascades. He had come toward the school-house
+with high hopes, and what had happened caused him pain. The word
+"Potlatch," spoken by the Indian boy, had caused his brow to cloud and his
+face to turn dark.
+
+"We will all go into the house," said the master. "Umatilla, will you not
+honor us with a visit this morning?"
+
+"No--me come this afternoon for the boy; me wait for him outside. Boston
+tilicum, let me speak to you a little. I am a father."
+
+"Yes, and a good father."
+
+"I am a father--you no understand--Boston tilicum--father. I want you to
+teach him like a father--not you understand?"
+
+"Yes, I understand."
+
+"Father--teacher--you, Boston tilicum."
+
+"Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin."
+
+"I die some day. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, I understand."
+
+"You understand, Boston tilicum, you understand. What I want my boy to
+become that I am for my boy. That you be."
+
+"Yes, Umatilla, I believe an Indian's word--you may trust mine. I will be
+to your boy what you may have him become. The Indian is true to his
+friends. I believe in _you_. I will be true."
+
+The old chief drew his blanket round him proudly.
+
+"Boston tilicum," said he, "if ever the day of trouble comes, I will
+protect you and the log school-house. You may trust my word. Indian speak
+true."
+
+The tall schoolmaster bowed.
+
+"Nika atte cepa" (I like you much), said the chief. "Potlatch shall no
+harm you. Klahyam klahhye--am!" (Good-by).
+
+Mrs. Woods hurried homeward and tried to calm her excited mind by singing
+a very heroic old hymn:
+
+    "Come on, my partners in distress,
+     My comrades in the wilderness,
+     Who still your bodies feel."
+
+The blue skies gleamed before her, and overhead wheeled a golden eagle. To
+her it was an emblem, a good omen, and her spirit became quiet and happy
+amid all the contradictions of her rough life. She sat down at last on the
+log before her door, with the somewhat strange remark:
+
+"I do hate Injuns; _nevertheless_--"
+
+Mrs. Woods was accustomed to correct the wrong tendencies of her heart and
+tongue by this word "nevertheless," which she used as an incomplete
+sentence. This "nevertheless" seemed to express her better self; to
+correct the rude tendencies of her nature. Had she been educated in her
+early days, this tendency to self-correction would have made her an ideal
+woman, but she owed nearly all her intellectual training to the sermons of
+the Rev. Jason Lee, which she had heard in some obscure corner of a room,
+or in Methodist chapel, or under the trees.
+
+Her early experience with the Indians had not made her a friend to the
+native races, notwithstanding the missionary labors of the Rev. Jason Lee.
+The first Indian that made her a visit on the donation claim did not leave
+a favorable impression on her mind.
+
+This Indian had come to her door while she was engaged in the very hard
+work of sawing wood. He had never seen a saw before, and, as it seemed to
+him to be a part of the woman herself, he approached her with awe and
+wonder. That the saw should eat through the wood appeared to him a
+veritable miracle.
+
+Mrs. Woods, unaware of her visitor, paused to take breath, looked up,
+beheld the tall form with staring eyes, and started back.
+
+"Medicine-woman--conjure!" said the Indian, in Chinook.
+
+Mrs. Woods was filled with terror, but a moment's thought recalled her
+resolution. She lifted her hand, and, pointing to the saw in the wood, she
+said, with a commanding tone:
+
+"Saw!"
+
+The Indian obeyed awkwardly, and wondering at the progress of the teeth of
+the saw through the wood. It was a hot day; the poor Indian soon became
+tired, and stopped work with a beating heart and bursting veins.
+
+"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods, with a sweep of her hands, as though some
+mysterious fate depended upon the order.
+
+The saw went very hard now, for he did not know how to use it, and the
+wood was hard, and the Indian's only thought seemed to be how to escape.
+Mrs. Woods held him in her power by a kind of mental magnetism, like that
+which Queen Margaret exercised over the robber.
+
+"Water!" at last gasped the Indian.
+
+"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods; then turned away to bring him water.
+
+When she looked around again, an unexpected sight met her eyes. The Indian
+was flying away, taking the saw with him. She never beheld either again,
+and it was a long time before any Indian appeared at the clearing after
+this odd event, though Mrs. Woods ultimately had many adventures among
+the wandering Siwashes.
+
+A saw was no common loss in these times of but few mechanical implements
+in Oregon, and Mrs. Woods did not soon forgive the Indian for taking away
+what he probably regarded as an instrument of torture.
+
+"I do hate Injuns!" she would often say; but quite likely would soon after
+be heard singing one of the hymns of the missionaries at the Dalles:
+
+    "O'er Columbia's wide-spread forests
+      Haste, ye heralds of the Lamb;
+     Teach the red man, wildly roaming,
+      Faith in Immanuel's name,"
+
+which, if poor poetry, was very inspiring.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+BOSTON TILICUM.
+
+
+Marlowe Mann--"Boston tilicum," as the Siwashes called all the
+missionaries, teachers, and traders from the East--sat down upon a bench
+of split log and leaned upon his desk, which consisted of two split logs
+in a rough frame. A curious school confronted him. His pupils numbered
+fifteen, representing Germany, England, Sweden, New England, and the
+Indian race.
+
+"The world will some day come to the Yankee schoolmaster," he used to say
+to the bowery halls of old Cambridge; and this prophecy, which had come to
+him on the banks of the Charles, seemed indeed to be beginning to be
+fulfilled on the Columbia.
+
+He opened the school in the same serene and scholarly manner as he would
+have done in a school in Cambridge.
+
+"He is not a true gentleman who is not one under all conditions and
+circumstances," was one of his views of a well-clothed character; and this
+morning he addressed the school with the courtesy of an old college
+professor.
+
+"I have come here," he said, "with but one purpose, and that is to try to
+teach you things which will do you the most good in life. That is always
+the best which will do the most good; all else is inferior. I shall first
+teach you to obey your sense of right in all things. This is the first
+principle of a true education. You will always know the way of life if you
+have this principle for your guide.
+
+"Conscience is the first education. A man's spiritual nature is his
+highest nature, and his spiritual concerns transcend all others. If a man
+is spiritually right, he is the master of all things. I would impress
+these truths on your minds, and teach them at the beginning. I have become
+willing to be poor, and to walk life's ways alone. The pilot of the Argo
+never returned from Colchis, but the Argo itself returned with the Golden
+Fleece. It may be so with my work; if so, I will be content. I have
+selected for our Scripture lesson the 'incorruptible seed.'"
+
+He rose and spoke like one before an august assembly; and so it was to
+him, with his views of the future of the great empire of the Northwest. A
+part of the pupils could not comprehend all that he said any more than
+they had understood the allusion to the pilot of the Argo; but his manner
+was so gracious, so earnest, so inspired, that they all felt the spirit of
+it, and some had come to regard themselves as the students of some great
+destiny.
+
+"Older domes than the pyramids are looking down upon you," he said, "and
+you are born to a higher destiny than were ever the children of the
+Pharaohs."
+
+"With the exception of Gretchen, not one of the pupils fully understood
+the picturesque allusion. Like the reference to the pilot of the Argo, it
+was poetic mystery to them; and yet it filled them with a noble curiosity
+to know much and a desire to study hard, and to live hopefully and
+worthily. Like the outline of some unknown mountain range, it allured them
+to higher outlooks and wider distances.
+
+"He talked to us so grandly," said Gretchen to Mrs. Woods one evening,
+"that I did not know half that he was saying; but it made me feel that I
+might be somebody, and I do intend to be. It is a good thing to have a
+teacher with great expectations."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Woods, "when there is so little to expect. People don't
+take a lot of nothing and make a heap of something in this world. It is
+all like a lot of feathers thrown against the wind. _Nevertheless_ it
+makes one happier to have prospects, if they are far away. I used to; but
+they never came to nothing, unless it was to bring me way out here."
+
+The log school-house was a curious place. The children's benches consisted
+of split logs on pegs, without backs. The sides of the building were logs
+and sods, and the roof was constructed of logs and pine boughs. All of the
+children were barefooted, and several had but poor and scanty clothing.
+Yet the very simplicity of the place had a charm.
+
+Benjamin sat alone, apart from the rest. It was plain to be seen that he
+was brooding over the painful event of the morning. Gretchen had grown
+cheerful again, but the bitter expression on the young Indian's face
+seemed to deepen in intensity. Mr. Mann saw it. To quiet his agitation, he
+began his teaching by going to him and sitting down beside him on the rude
+bench and opening to him the primer.
+
+"You understand English?" said Mr. Mann.
+
+"A little. I can talk Chinook."
+
+In the Chinook vocabulary, which was originally the trade language of all
+the tribes employed by the Hudson Bay Company in collecting furs, most of
+the words resemble in sound the objects they represent. For example, a
+wagon in Chinook is chick-chick, a clock is ding-ding, a crow is kaw-kaw,
+a duck, quack-quack, a laugh, tee-hee; the heart is tum-tum, and a talk or
+speech or sermon, wah-wah. The language was of English invention; it took
+its name from the Chinook tribes, and became common in the Northwest.
+Nearly all of the old English and American traders in the Northwest
+learned to talk Chinook, and to teach Chinook was one of the purposes of
+the school.
+
+"Can you tell me what that is?" asked Mr. Mann, pointing to the letter A
+in the primer.
+
+"Fox-trap."
+
+"No; that is the letter A."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+Our digger of Greek roots from Cambridge was puzzled. He could not repeat
+the story of Cadmus to this druid of the forest or make a learned talk on
+arbitrary signs. He answered happily, however, "Wise men said so."
+
+"Me understand."
+
+"That is the letter B."
+
+"Yes, aha! Boston tilicum, you let her be. Old woman no good; me punish
+her. Knock-sheet--stick her" (club her).
+
+Mr. Mann saw at once the strange turn that the young Indian's mind had
+taken. He was puzzled again.
+
+"No, Benjamin; I will teach you what to do."
+
+"Teach me how to club her? You are good! Boston tilicum, we will be
+brothers--you and I. She wah-wah, but she is no good."
+
+"That is C."
+
+"Aha! _She_ heap wah-wah, but _she_ no good."
+
+"Now, that is A, B, and that is C. Try to remember them, and I will come
+soon and talk with you again."
+
+"You wah-wah?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Mann, doubtful of the Indian's thought.
+
+"She wah-wah?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You heap wah-wah. You good. She heap wah-wah. She no good. Potlatch come;
+dance. She wah-wah no more. I wah-wah."
+
+Mr. Mann was pained to see the revengeful trend of the Indian's thought.
+The hints of the evil intention of the Potlatch troubled him, but his
+faith in the old chief and the influence of his own integrity did not
+falter.
+
+Gretchen was the most advanced scholar in the school. Her real mother had
+been an accomplished woman, and had taken great pains with her education.
+She was well instructed in the English branches, and had read five books
+of Virgil in Latin. Her reading had not been extensive, but it had
+embraced some of the best books in the English language. Her musical
+education had been received from a German uncle, who had been instructed
+by Herr Wieck, the father of Clara Schumann. He had been a great lover of
+Schumann's dreamy and spiritual music, and had taught her the young
+composer's pieces for children, and among them Romance and the Traumerei.
+He had taught her to play the two tone poems together in changing keys,
+beginning with the Traumerei and returning again to its beautiful and
+haunting strains. Gretchen interpreted these poems with all the color of
+true feeling, and under her bow they became enchantment to a musical ear
+and a delight to even as unmusical a soul as Mrs. Woods.
+
+Gretchen's chief literary pleasure had been the study of the German
+poets. She had a poetic mind, and had learned to produce good rhymes. The
+songs of Uhland, Heine, and Schiller delighted her. She had loved to read
+the strange stories of Hoffman, and the imaginative works of Baron Fouque.
+She used to aspire to be an author or poet, but these aspirations had
+received no countenance from Mrs. Woods, and yet the latter seemed rather
+proud to regard her ward as possessing a superior order of mind.
+
+"If there is anything that I do despise," Mrs. Woods used to say, "it is
+books spun out of the air, all about nothin'! Dreams were made for sleep,
+and the day was made for work. I haven't much to be proud of in this
+world. I've always been a terror to lazy people and to Injuns, and if any
+one were to write my life they'd have some pretty stirring stories to
+tell. I have no doubt that I was made for something."
+
+Although Mrs. Woods boasted that she was a terror to Indians, she had been
+very apprehensive of danger since the Whitman colony massacre. She talked
+bravely and acted bravely according to her view of moral courage, but with
+a fearful heart. She dreaded the approaching Potlatch, and the frenzy that
+calls for dark deeds if the dance of the evil spirits should conclude the
+approaching feast.
+
+There was a sullen look in Benjamin's face as he silently took his seat in
+the log school-house the next morning. Mr. Mann saw it, and instinctively
+felt the dark and mysterious atmosphere of it. He went to him immediately
+after the opening exercises, and said:
+
+"You haven't spoken to me this morning; what troubles you?"
+
+The boy's face met the sympathetic eye of the master, and he said:
+
+"I was happy on the morning when I came--sun; _she_ hate Indian, talk
+against him to you; make me unhappy--shade; think I will have my
+revenge--_pil-pil_; then music make me happy; you make me happy; night
+come, and I think of her--she hate Indian--shade. Me will have my
+revenge--_pil-pil_. She say I have no right here; she have no right here;
+the land all belong to Umatilla; then to me; I no have her here. Look out
+for the October moon--Potlatch--dance--_pil-pil_."
+
+"I will be a friend to you, Benjamin."
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum, we will be friends."
+
+"And I will teach you how to be noble--like a king. You felt good when I
+was kind to you?"
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum."
+
+"And when the music played?"
+
+"Yes, Boston tilicum."
+
+"Then you must be good to her; that will make her feel good toward you. Do
+you see?"
+
+There came a painful look into the young Indian's face.
+
+"I good to her, make her good? She good to me make me good? She no good to
+me. She say I no right here. The land belong to Umatilla. She must go. You
+stay. Look out for the October moon. She wah-wah no more."
+
+"It is noble to be good; it makes others good."
+
+"Then why isn't _she_ good? She make me ugly; you make me good. I think I
+will punish her--_pil-pil_; then you speak kind, and the music play, then
+I think I will punish her not. Then dark thoughts come back again; clouds
+come again; hawks fly. What me do? Me am two selves; one self when I think
+of you, one when I think of her. She say I have no right. She have no
+right. All right after Potlatch. I wah-wah; she wah-wah no more."
+
+"Be good yourself, Benjamin. Be kind to her; make her kind. You do right."
+
+The young Indian hesitated, then answered:
+
+"I do as you say. You are friend. I'll do as I feel when the music play. I
+try. So you say."
+
+The cloud passed. The teacher paid the Indian boy special attention that
+morning. At noon Gretchen played Von Weber's Wild Hunt of Lutzow, which
+drove Napoleon over the Rhine. The rhythm of the music picturing the
+heroic cavalry enchanted Benjamin, and he said: "Play it over again."
+After the music came a foot-race among the boys, which Benjamin easily
+won. The afternoon passed quietly, until in the cool, lengthening shadows
+of the trail the resolute form of Mrs. Woods appeared.
+
+Benjamin saw her, and his calm mood fled. He looked up at the master.
+
+"I is come back again--my old self again. She say I no business here; she
+no business here. She wah-wah."
+
+The master laid his hand on the boy's shoulder kindly and bent his face on
+his.
+
+"I do as you say," the boy continued. "I will not speak till my good self
+come again. I be still. No wah-wah."
+
+He dropped his eyes upon a page in the book, and sat immovable. He was a
+noble picture of a struggle for self-control in a savage and untutored
+heart.
+
+Mrs. Woods asked for Gretchen at the door, and the master excused the
+girl, thanking her for the music that had delighted the school at the
+noon-hour. As she was turning to go, Mrs. Woods cast a glance toward
+Benjamin, and said to the master in an undertone: "He's tame now--quiet as
+a purring cat. The cat don't lick cream when the folks are around. But
+he'll make trouble yet. An Injun is a Injun. I hate Injuns, though Parson
+Lee says I am all wrong. When you have seen as many of 'em as I have,
+you'll know more than you do now."
+
+Benjamin did not comprehend the words, but he felt that the woman had said
+something injurious to him. The suspicion cut him to the quick. His black
+eye sparkled and his cheek burned. The scholars all seemed to be sorry at
+the impression that Mrs. Woods's muttered words had left in his mind. He
+had struggled for two days to do his best--to follow his best self.
+
+School closed. Benjamin rose like a statue. He stood silent for a time and
+looked at the slanting sun and the dreamy afternoon glories of the
+glaciers, then moved silently out of the door. The old chief met him in
+the opening, and saw the hurt and troubled look in his face.
+
+"What have you been doing to my boy?" he said to the master. "Has he not
+been good?"
+
+"Very good; I like him," said Mr. Mann. "He is trying to be good here,"
+pointing to his heart. "The good in him will grow. I will help him."
+
+The old chief and the boy walked away slowly out of the shadows of the
+great trees and up the cool trail. The tall master followed them with his
+eye. In the departing forms he saw a picture of the disappearing race. He
+knew history well, and how it would repeat itself on the great plateau and
+amid the giant forests of the Oregon. He felt that the old man was
+probably one of the last great chiefs of the Umatillas.
+
+On one of the peninsulas of the Oregon, the so-called Islands of the Dead,
+the old warriors of the tribes were being gathered by the plagues that had
+come to the territories and tribal regions ever since the Hudson Bay
+Company established its posts on the west of the mountains, and Astoria
+had been planted on the great river, and settlers had gathered in the
+mountain-domed valley of the Willamette. Wherever the white sail went in
+the glorious rivers, pestilence came to the native tribes. The Indian
+race was perceptibly vanishing. Only one son of seven was left to
+Umatilla. What would be the fate of this boy?
+
+The master went home troubled over the event of the afternoon. He was
+asking the Indian to be better than his opponent, and she was a
+well-meaning woman and nominally a Christian.
+
+His first thought was to go to Mrs. Woods and ask her to wholly change her
+spirit and manners, and, in fact, preach to her the same simple doctrine
+of following only one's better self that he had taught to the young
+prince. But he well knew that she had not a teachable mind. He resolved to
+try to reach the same result through Gretchen, whom she upbraided with her
+tongue but loved in her heart.
+
+Mrs. Woods had come to regard it as her appointed mission to abuse people
+for their good. She thought it tended toward their spiritual progress and
+development. She often said that she felt "called to set things right, and
+not let two or three people have their own way in everything"--a view of
+life not uncommon among people of larger opportunities and better
+education.
+
+Benjamin came to school the next morning silent and sullen, and the
+master went to him again in the same spirit as before.
+
+"She say I no right here," he said. "She suffer for it. She wah-wah. Look
+out for the October moon."
+
+"No, you are a better Indian now."
+
+"Yes; sometimes."
+
+"The better Indian harms no one--one's good self never does evil. You are
+to be your good self, and please me."
+
+The young Indian was silent for a time. He at last said, slowly:
+
+"But me know who will."
+
+"Do what, Benjamin?"
+
+"Make her suffer--punish."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"I know a bad Indian who will. He say so."
+
+"You must not let him. You are son of a chief."
+
+"I will try. I no wah-wah now."
+
+At noon Benjamin was light-hearted, and led the sports and games. He was
+very strong, and one of his lively feats was to let three or four children
+climb upon his back and run away with them until they tumbled off. He
+seemed perfectly happy when he was making the others happy, and nothing
+so delighted him as to be commended. He longed to be popular, not from
+any selfish reason, but because to be liked by others was his atmosphere
+of contentment. He was kindly above most Indians, a trait for which his
+father was famous. He was even kindly above many of the white people.
+
+The next morning he came to school in good humor, and a curious incident
+occurred soon after the school began. A little black bear ventured down
+the trail toward the open door, stopping at times and lifting up its head
+curiously and cautiously. It at last ventured up to the door, put its fore
+feet on the door-sill, and looked into the room.
+
+"Kill it!" cried one of the boys, a recent emigrant, in the alarm. "Kill
+it!"
+
+"What harm it do?" said the Indian boy. "Me drive it away."
+
+The young Indian started toward the door as at play, and shook his head at
+the young bear, which was of the harmless kind so well known in the
+Northwest, and the bear turned and ran, while the Indian followed it
+toward the wood. The odd event was quite excusable on any ground of rule
+and propriety in the primitive school.
+
+"It no harm; let it go," said the boy on his return; and the spirit of the
+incident was good and educational in the hearts of the school.
+
+The charm of his life was Gretchen's violin. It transfigured him; it
+changed the world to him. His father was a forest philosopher; the boy
+caught a like spirit, and often said things that were a revelation to Mr.
+Mann.
+
+"Why do you like the violin so much?" said the latter to him one day.
+
+"It brings to me the thing longed for--the thing I long to know."
+
+"Why, what is that?"
+
+"I can't tell it--I feel it here--I sense it--I shall know--something
+better--yonder--the thing we long for, but do not know. Don't you long for
+it? Don't you feel it?"
+
+The tall schoolmaster said "Yes," and was thoughtful. The poor Indian had
+tried to express that something beyond his self of which he could only now
+have a dim conception, and about which even science is dumb. Mr. Mann
+understood it, but he could hardly have expressed it better.
+
+The boy learned the alphabet quickly, and began to demand constant
+attention in his eagerness to learn. Mr. Mann found that he was giving
+more than the allotted time to him. To meet the case, he appointed from
+time to time members of the school "monitors," as he called them, to sit
+beside him and help him.
+
+One day he asked Gretchen to do this work. The boy was delighted to be
+instructed by the mistress of the violin, and she was as pleased with the
+honor of such monitorial duties to the son of a chief. But an unexpected
+episode grew out of all this mutual good-will and helpful kindness.
+
+Benjamin was so grateful to Gretchen for the pains that she took with his
+studies that he wished to repay her. He had a pretty little Cayuse pony
+which he used to ride; one day after school he caused it to be brought to
+the school-house, and, setting Gretchen upon it, he led it by the mane up
+the trail toward her home, a number of the pupils following them. On the
+way the merry-making party met Mrs. Woods. She was as astonished as though
+she had encountered an elephant, and there came into her face a look of
+displeasure and anger.
+
+"What kind of doings are these, I would like to know?" she exclaimed, in a
+sharp tone, standing in the middle of the way and scanning every face.
+"Riding out with an Injun, Gretchen, are you? That's what you are doing.
+Girl, get off that horse and come with me! That is the kind of propriety
+that they teach out in these parts, is it? and the master came from
+Harvard College, too! One would think that this world was just made to
+enjoy one's self in, just like a sheep pasture, where the lambs go hopping
+and skipping, not knowing that they were born to be fleeced."
+
+She hurried Gretchen away excitedly, and the school turned back. Benjamin
+was disappointed, and looked more hurt than ever before. On the way he met
+his old father, who had come out to look for him, and the rest of the
+scholars dispersed to their homes.
+
+That evening, after a long, vivid twilight, such as throws its splendor
+over the mountain ranges in these northern latitudes, Mrs. Woods and
+Gretchen were sitting in their log-house just within the open door. Mr.
+Woods was at the block-house at Walla Walla, and the cabin was
+unprotected. The light was fading in the tall pines of the valleys, and
+there was a deep silence everywhere, undisturbed by so much as a whisper
+of the Chinook winds. Mrs. Woods's thoughts seemed far away--doubtless
+among the old meadows, orchards, and farm-fields of New England. Gretchen
+was playing the musical glasses.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Woods's thoughts came back from their far-away journeys. She
+had seen something that disturbed her. She sat peering into a tract of
+trees which were some three hundred feet high--one of the great tree
+cathedrals of the Northwestern forests. Suddenly she said:
+
+"Gretchen, there are Injuns in the pines. Watch!"
+
+Gretchen looked out, but saw nothing.
+
+The shadows deepened.
+
+"I have twice seen Injuns passing from tree to tree and hiding. Why are
+they there? There--look!"
+
+A sinewy form in the shadows of the pines appeared and disappeared.
+Gretchen saw it.
+
+"They mean evil, or they would not hide. Gretchen, what shall we do?"
+
+Mrs. Woods closed the door and barred it, took down the rifle from the
+side of the room, and looked out through a crevice in the split shutter.
+
+There was a silence for a time; then Mrs. Woods moved and said: "They are
+coming toward the house, passing from one tree to another. They mean
+revenge--I feel it--revenge on me, and Benjamin--he is the leader of it."
+
+The flitting of shadowy forms among the pines grew alarming. Nearer and
+nearer they came, and more and more excited became Mrs. Woods's
+apprehensions. Gretchen began to cry, through nervous excitement, and with
+the first rush of tears came to her, as usual, the thought of her violin.
+
+She took up the instrument, tuned it with nervous fingers, and drew the
+bow across the strings, making them shriek as with pain, and then drifted
+into the air the music of the Traumerei.
+
+"Fiddling, Gretchen--fiddling in the shadow of death? I don't know but
+what you are right--that tune, too!"
+
+The music trembled; the haunting strain quivered, rose and descended, and
+was repeated over and over again.
+
+"There is no movement in the pines," said Mrs. Woods. "It is growing
+darker. Play on. It does seem as though that strain was stolen from heaven
+to overcome evil with."
+
+Gretchen played. An hour passed, and the moon rose. Then she laid down the
+violin and listened.
+
+"Oh, Gretchen, he is coming! I know that form. It is Benjamin. He is
+coming alone. What shall we do? He is--right before the door!"
+
+Gretchen's eye fell upon the musical glasses, which were among the few
+things that she had brought from the East and which had belonged to her
+old German home. She had tuned them early in the evening by pouring water
+into them, as she had been taught to do in her old German village, and she
+wet her fingers and touched them to the tender forest hymn:
+
+    "Now the woods are all sleeping."
+
+"He has stopped," said Mrs. Woods. "He is listening--play."
+
+The music filled the cabin. No tones can equal in sweetness the musical
+glasses, and the trembling nerves of Gretchen's fingers gave a spirit of
+pathetic pleading to the old German forest hymn. Over and over again she
+played the air, waiting for the word of Mrs. Woods to cease.
+
+"He is going," said Mrs. Woods, slowly. "He is moving back toward the
+pines. He has changed his mind, or has gone for his band. You may stop
+now."
+
+Mrs. Woods watched by the split shutter until past midnight. Then she
+laid down on the bed, and Gretchen watched, and one listened while the
+other slept, by turns, during the night. But no footstep was heard. The
+midsummer sun blazed over the pines in the early morning; birds sang gayly
+in the dewy air, and Gretchen prepared the morning meal as usual, then
+made her way to the log school-house.
+
+She found Benjamin there. He met her with a happy face.
+
+"Bad Indian come to your cabin last night," said he. "He mean evil; he
+hate old woman. She wah-wah too much, and he hate. Bad Indian hear
+music--violin; he be pleased--evil hawks fly out of him. Good Indian come
+back. One is tied to the other. One no let the other go. What was that low
+music I hear? Baby music! Chinook wind in the bushes! Quail--mother-bird
+singing to her nest! I love that music.
+
+"Say, you play at Potlatch, frighten away the hawks; mother-birds sing. No
+devil dance. Say, I have been good; no harm old wah-wah. Will you--will
+you play--play that tin-tin at Potlatch under the big moon?"
+
+A great thought had taken possession of the young Indian's mind, and a
+great plan--one worthy of a leader of a peace congress. Gretchen saw the
+plan in part, but did not fully comprehend it. She could only see that his
+life had become a struggle between good and evil, and that he was now
+following some good impulse of his better nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+MRS. WOODS'S TAME BEAR.
+
+
+Mrs. Woods was much alone during this summer. Her husband was away from
+home during the working days of the week, at the saw and shingle mill on
+the Columbia, and during the same days Gretchen was much at school.
+
+The summer in the mountain valleys of Washington is a long serenity. The
+deep-blue sky is an ocean of intense light, and the sunbeams glint amid
+the cool forest shadows, and seem to sprinkle the plains with gold-dust
+like golden snow. Notwithstanding her hard practical speech, which was a
+habit, Mrs. Woods loved Nature, and, when her work was done, she often
+made little journeys alone into the mountain woods.
+
+In one of these solitary excursions she met with a little black cub and
+captured it, and, gathering it up in her apron like a kitten, she ran with
+it toward her cabin, after looking behind to see if the mother bear was
+following her. Had she seen the mother of the cunning little black
+creature in her apron pursuing her, she would have dropped the cub, which
+would have insured her escape from danger. But the mother bear did not
+make an early discovery of the loss in her family. She was probably out
+berrying, and such experiences of stolen children were wholly unknown to
+the bear family in Washington before this time. The Indians would not have
+troubled the little cub.
+
+The black bear of the Cascades is quite harmless, and its cubs, like
+kittens, seem to have a sense of humor unusual among animals. For a white
+child to see a cub is to desire it to tame for a pet, and Mrs. Woods felt
+the same childish instincts when she caught up the little creature, which
+seemed to have no fear of anything, and ran away with it toward her home.
+
+It was Saturday evening when she returned, and she found both Mr. Woods
+and Gretchen waiting to meet her at the door. They were surprised to see
+her haste and the pivotal turning of her head at times, as though she
+feared pursuit from some dangerous foe.
+
+Out of breath, she sank down on the log that served for a step, and,
+opening her apron cautiously, said:
+
+"See here."
+
+"Where did you get that?" said Mr. Woods.
+
+"I stole it."
+
+"What are you going to do with it?"
+
+"Raise it."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"For company. I haven't any neighbors."
+
+"But what do you want it for?"
+
+"It is so cunning. It just rolled over in the trail at my feet, and I
+grabbed it and ran."
+
+"But what if the mother-bear should come after it?" asked Gretchen.
+
+"I would shoot her."
+
+"That would be a strange way to treat your new neighbors," said Mr. Woods.
+
+Mr. Woods put a leather strap around the neck of the little bear, and tied
+the strap to a log in the yard. The little thing began to be alarmed at
+these strange proceedings, and to show a disposition to use its paws in
+resistance, but it soon learned not to fear its captors; its adoption into
+the shingle-maker's family was quite easily enforced, and the pet seemed
+to feel quite at home.
+
+There was some difficulty at first in teaching the cub to eat, but hunger
+made it a tractable pupil of the berry dish, and Mrs. "Woods was soon able
+to say:
+
+"There it is, just as good as a kitten, and I would rather have it than to
+have a kitten. It belongs to these parts."
+
+Poor Mrs. Woods! She soon found that her pet did "belong to these parts,"
+and that its native instincts were strong, despite her moral training. She
+lost her bear in a most disappointing way, and after she supposed that it
+had become wholly devoted to her.
+
+She had taught it to "roll over" for its dinner, and it had grown to think
+that all the good things of this world came to bears by their willingness
+to roll over. Whenever any member of the family appeared at the door, the
+cub would roll over like a ball, and expect to be fed, petted, and
+rewarded for the feat.
+
+"I taught it that," Mrs. Woods used to say. "I could teach it anything. It
+is just as knowing as it is cunning, and lots of company for me out here
+in the mountains. It thinks more of me than of its old mother. You can
+educate anything."
+
+As the cub grew, Mrs. Woods's attachment to it increased. She could not
+bear to see its freedom restrained by the strap and string, and so she
+untied the string from the log and let it drag it about during the day,
+only fastening it at night.
+
+"There is no danger of its running away," said she; "it thinks too much of
+me and the berry dish. I've tamed it completely; it's as faithful to its
+home as a house-cat, and a great deal more company than a cat or dog or
+any other dumb animal. The nicest bird to tame is a blue-jay, and the best
+animal for company is a cub. I do believe that I could tame the whole race
+of bears if I only had 'em."
+
+Mrs. Woods had a pet blue-jay that she had taken when young from its nest,
+and it would do many comical things. It seemed to have a sense of humor,
+like a magpie, and to enjoy a theft like that bird. She finally gave it
+the freedom of the air, but it would return at her call for food and eat
+from her hand. The blue-jay is naturally a very wild bird, but when it is
+tamed it becomes very inquisitive and social, and seems to have a brain
+full of invention and becomes a very comical pet. Mrs. Woods called her
+pet bear Little Roll Over.
+
+One day a visitor appeared at the emigrant's cabin. A black she-bear came
+out of the woods, and, seeing the cub, stood up on her haunches in
+surprise and seemed to say, "How came you here?" It was evidently the
+mother of the cub.
+
+The cub saw its mother and rolled over several times, and then stood up on
+its haunches and looked at her, as much as to say, "Where did you come
+from, and what brought you here?" In the midst of this interesting
+interview Mrs. Woods appeared at the door of the cabin.
+
+She saw the mother-bear. True to her New England instincts, she shook her
+homespun apron and said: "Shoo!"
+
+She also saw that the little bear was greatly excited, and under the
+stress of temptation.
+
+"Here," said she, "roll over."
+
+The cub did so, but in the direction of its mother.
+
+Mrs. Woods hurried out toward it to prevent this ungrateful gravitation.
+
+The mother-bear seemed much to wonder that the cub should be found in such
+forbidden associations, and began to make signs by dipping her fore paws.
+The cub evidently understood these signs, and desired to renew its
+old-time family relations.
+
+"Here," said Mrs. Woods, "you--you--you mind now; roll over--roll over."
+
+[Illustration: _In the midst of this interview Mrs. Woods appeared
+at the door of the cabin._]
+
+The cub did so, true to its education in one respect, but it did not roll
+in the direction of its foster-mother, but rolled toward its own mother.
+It turned over some five or more times, then bounded up and ran toward the
+she-bear. The latter dropped her fore feet on the earth again, and the two
+bears, evidently greatly delighted to find each other, quickly disappeared
+in the woods. As the cub was about to enter the bushes it turned and gave
+a final glance at Mrs. Woods and rolled over.
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Woods's heart. She said:
+
+"After all I have done for ye, too! Oh, Little Roll Over, Little Roll
+Over, I wouldn't have thought it of you!"
+
+She surveyed the empty yard, threw her apron over her head, as stricken
+people used to do in Lynn in the hour of misfortune, and sat down on the
+log at the door and cried.
+
+"I never have had any confidence in Injuns," she said, "since my saw
+walked off. But I did have some respect for bears. I wonder if I shall
+ever meet that little cre'tur' again, and, if I do, if it will roll over.
+This world is all full of disappointments, and I have had my share. Maybe
+I'll get it back to me yet. Nevertheless--"
+
+Mrs. Woods often talked of Little Roll Over and its cunning ways; she
+hoped she would some time meet it again, and wondered how it would act if
+she should find it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NEST OF THE FISHING EAGLE.
+
+
+Benjamin continued to attend the school, but it was evident that he did so
+with an injured heart, and chiefly out of love for the old chief, his
+father. He had a high regard for his teacher, whose kindness was
+unfailing, and he showed a certain partiality for Gretchen; but he was as
+a rule silent, and there were dark lines on his forehead that showed that
+he was unhappy. He would not be treated as an inferior, and he seemed to
+feel that he was so regarded by the scholars.
+
+He began to show a peculiar kind of contempt for all of the pupils except
+Gretchen. He pretended not to see them, hear them, or to be aware of their
+presence or existence. He would pass through a group of boys as though the
+place was vacant, not so much as moving his eye from the direct path. He
+came and went, solitary and self-contained, proud, cold, and revengeful.
+
+But this indifference was caused by sensitiveness and the feeling that he
+had been slighted. The dark lines relaxed, and his face wore a kindly glow
+whenever his teacher went to his desk--if the split-log bench for a
+book-rest might be so called. "I would give my life for Gretchen and you,"
+he said one day to Mr. Mann; and added: "I would save them all for you."
+
+There was a cluster of gigantic trees close by the school-house, nearly
+two hundred feet high. The trees, which were fir, had only dry stumps of
+limbs for a distance of nearly one hundred feet from the ground. At the
+top, or near the top, the green leaves or needles and dead boughs had
+matted together and formed a kind of shelf or eyrie, and on this a pair of
+fishing eagles had made their nest.
+
+The nest had been there many years, and the eagles had come back to it
+during the breeding season and reared their young.
+
+For a time after the opening of the school none of the pupils seemed to
+give any special attention to this high nest. It was a cheerful sight at
+noon to see the eagles wheel in the air, or the male eagle come from the
+glimmering hills and alight beside his mate.
+
+One afternoon a sudden shadow like a falling cloud passed by the half-open
+shutter of the log school-house and caused the pupils to start. There was
+a sharp cry of distress in the air, and the master looked out and said:
+
+"Attend to your books, children; it is only the eagle."
+
+But again and again the same swift shadow, like the fragment of a
+storm-cloud, passed across the light, and the wild scream of the bird
+caused the scholars to watch and to listen. The cry was that of agony and
+affright, and it was so recognized by Benjamin, whose ear and eye were
+open to Nature, and who understood the voices and cries of the wild and
+winged inhabitants of the trees and air.
+
+He raised his hand.
+
+"May I go see?"
+
+The master bowed silently. The boy glided out of the door, and was heard
+to exclaim:
+
+"Look! look! the nest--the nest!"
+
+The master granted the school a recess, and all in a few moments were
+standing without the door peering into the tall trees.
+
+The long dry weather and withering sun had caused the dead boughs to
+shrink and to break beneath the great weight of the nest that rested upon
+them. The eagle's nest was in ruins. It had fallen upon the lower boughs,
+and two young half-fledged eaglets were to be seen hanging helplessly on a
+few sticks in mid-air and in danger of falling to the ground.
+
+It was a bright afternoon. The distress of the two birds was pathetic, and
+their cries called about them other birds, as if in sympathy.
+
+The eagles seldom descended to any point near the plain in their flight,
+but mounted, as it were, to the sun, or floated high in the air; but in
+their distress this afternoon they darted downward almost to the ground,
+as though appealing for help for their young.
+
+While the school was watching this curious scene the old chief of the
+Umatillas came up the cool highway or trail, to go home with Benjamin
+after school.
+
+The eagles seemed to know him. As he joined the pitying group, the female
+eagle descended as in a spasm of grief, and her wing swept his plume. She
+uttered a long, tremulous cry as she passed and ascended to her young.
+
+"She call," said the old chief. "She call me."
+
+"I go," said Benjamin, with a look at his father.
+
+"Yes, go--she call. She call--the God overhead he call. Go!"
+
+A slender young pine ran up beside one of the giant trees, tall and green.
+In a moment Benjamin was seen ascending this pine to a point where he
+could throw himself upon the smallest of the great trees and grasp the
+ladder of the lower dead branches. Up and up he went in the view of all,
+until he had reached a height of some hundred and fifty feet.
+
+The eagles wheeled around him, describing higher circles as he ascended.
+He reached the young eagles at last, but passed by them. What was he going
+to do?
+
+There was a shelf of green boughs above him, which would bear the weight
+of a nest. He went up to them at a distance of nearly two hundred feet. He
+then began to gather up the fallen sticks of the old nest, and to break
+off new sticks and to construct a new nest. The old chief watched him with
+pride, and, turning to the master, said:
+
+"Ah-a--that is my boy. He be me. I was he once--it is gone now--what I
+was."
+
+When Benjamin had made a nest he descended, and at the peril of his own
+life, on the decayed limbs, he rescued the two young eagles that were
+hanging with heads downward and open beaks. He carried them up to the new
+nest and placed them in it, and began to descend.
+
+But a withered bough that he grasped was too slender for his weight, and
+broke. He grasped another, but that too gave way. He tried to drop into
+the top of the tall young pine below him, but, in his effort to get into
+position to do so, limb after limb of dead wood broke, and he came falling
+to the earth, amid the startled looks of the chief and the cries of the
+children.
+
+The ground was soft, and his body lay for a time half imbedded in it.
+
+He was senseless, and blood streamed from his nose and reddened his eyes.
+The old chief seized his arm and tried to raise him, but the effort
+brought no sign of life, and his body was lowered slowly back again by the
+agonized father, who sat down and dropped his head on his son's breast.
+
+Mr. Mann brought water and wet the boy's lips and bathed his brow. He then
+placed his hand over the boy's heart and held it there. There was a long
+silence. The old chief watched the teacher's hand. He seemed waiting for a
+word of hope; but Mr. Mann did not speak.
+
+The old chief lifted his head at last, and said; appealingly:
+
+"Boston tilicum, you do not know how I feel! You do not know--the birds
+know--_you_ do not know!"
+
+The teacher rubbed the boy's breast and arms, and said:
+
+"He will revive."
+
+"What, Boston tilicum?"
+
+"He will _live_."
+
+"My boy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The dark face brightened. The old man clasped the boy's hand and drew it
+to his breast. The children attempted to brush the earth out of the young
+hero's dark, matted hair, but the old chief said, mysteriously:
+
+"No touch him! he is mine."
+
+At last a convulsive movement passed over the boy's body. The teacher
+again pressed his hand on the heart of his pupil, and he quickly
+exclaimed: "It beats."
+
+The fiery sun gleamed from the snowy mountains. There were cool murmurs of
+winds in the trees, and they sent forth a resinous odor into the air. The
+balm dropped down like a messenger of healing.
+
+Presently the boy's eyes opened and gazed steadily into the blue air.
+
+The eagles were wheeling about the trees. The boy watched them, as though
+nothing had passed. They were making narrowing circles, and at last each
+alighted on the new nest beside their young.
+
+He turned his face slowly toward his father.
+
+"Saved!" he said. "They are happy. I fell. Let's go."
+
+He rose up. As he did so the male eagle rose from his nest and, uttering a
+glad scream, wheeled in the sky and made his way through the crimson haze
+toward the fishing grounds of the lower Columbia.
+
+The chief's eye followed him for a time; then the old man turned a happy
+face on the schoolmaster and children and said:
+
+"I know how he feels--the Manitou overhead--he made the hearts of all;
+yours--the birds--mine. He is glad!"
+
+There was something beautiful and pathetic in the old chief's sense of the
+common heart and feeling of all conscious beings. The very eagles seemed
+to understand it; and Master Mann, as he turned away from the school-house
+that day, said to Gretchen:
+
+"I myself am being taught. I am glad to learn all this large life. I hope
+that you will one day become a teacher."
+
+Gretchen went home that afternoon with a glad heart. Benjamin did not
+return to the school again for several days, and when he came back it
+seemed to be with a sense of humiliation. He seemed to feel somehow that
+he ought not to have fallen from the tree.
+
+The fourth of July came, and Master Mann had invited the school to come
+together on the holiday for patriotic exercises. He had one of the pupils
+read the Declaration of Independence on the occasion, and Gretchen played
+the President's March on the violin. He himself made an historical
+address, and then joined in some games out of doors under the trees.
+
+He brought to the school-house that day an American flag, which he hung
+over the desk during the exercises. When the school went out to play he
+said:
+
+"I wish I could hang the flag from a pole, or from the top of one of the
+trees."
+
+Benjamin's face brightened.
+
+"I will go," he said; "I will go _up_."
+
+"Hang it on the eagle's nest," said one of the pupils. "The eagle is the
+national bird."
+
+Mr. Mann saw that to suspend the national emblem from the eagle's nest
+would be a patriotic episode of the day, and he gave the flag to Benjamin,
+saying:
+
+"Beware of the rotten limbs."
+
+"I no woman," said Benjamin; and, waving the flag, he moved like a
+squirrel up the trees. He placed the flag on the nest, while the eagles
+wheeled around him, screaming wildly. He descended safely, and made the
+incident an object lesson, as Mr. Mann repeated the ode to the American
+eagle, found at that time in many reading-books.
+
+While Mr. Mann was doing so, and had reached the line--
+
+    "Bird of Columbia, well art thou," etc.,
+
+one of the eagles swept down to the nest and seized the banner in his
+talons. He rose again into the air and circled high, then with a swift,
+strong curve of the wings, came down to the nest again, and, seizing the
+flag, tore it from the nest and bore it aloft to the sky.
+
+[Illustration: _The eagle soared away in the blue heavens, and the flag
+streamed after him in his talons._]
+
+It was a beautiful sight. The air was clear, the far peaks were serene,
+and the glaciers of Mount Hood gleamed like a glory of crystallized light.
+The children cheered. The bird soared away in the blue heavens, and the
+flag streamed after him in his talons. He dropped the flag at last over
+a dark, green forest. The children cheered again.
+
+It was miles away.
+
+"I go find it," said Benjamin; and he darted away from the place and was
+not seen until the next day, when he returned, bringing the flag with him.
+
+Marlowe Mann never forgot that fourth of July on the Columbia.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE MOUNTAIN LION.
+
+
+One morning, as Mrs. Woods sat in her door picking over some red
+whortleberries which she had gathered in the timber the day before, a
+young cow came running into the yard, as if for protection. Mrs. Woods
+started up, and looked in the direction from which the animal had come
+running, but saw nothing to cause the alarm.
+
+The cow looked backward, and lowed. Mrs. Woods set down her dish of red
+berries, took her gun, and went out toward the timber where the cow had
+been alarmed.
+
+There was on the edge of the timber a large fir that the shingle-maker had
+felled when he first built his house or shack, but had not used, owing to
+the hardness of the grain. It lay on the earth, but still connected with
+its high stump, forming a kind of natural fence. Around it were beds of
+red phlox, red whortleberry bushes, and wild sunflowers.
+
+The horny stump and fallen tree had been made very interesting to Mrs.
+Woods in her uneventful life by a white squirrel that often had appeared
+upon it, and made a pretty picture as it sat eating in the sun, its head
+half covered with its bushy tail. White squirrels were not common in the
+timber, and this was the only one that Mrs. Woods had ever seen.
+
+"I wish that I could contrive to catch that there white squirrel," she
+said to Gretchen one day; "it would be a sight of company for me when you
+are gone. The bear used me mean, but I kind o' like all these little
+children of Natur'. But I don't want no Injuns, and no more bears unless
+_he_ comes back again. The schoolmaster may like Injuns, and you may, but
+I don't. Think how I lost my saw; Injun and all went off together. I can
+seem to see him now, goin'."
+
+As Mrs. Woods drew near the fallen tree she looked for the white squirrel,
+which was not to be seen. Suddenly the bushes near the stump moved, and
+she saw the most evil-looking animal that she had ever met drawing back
+slowly toward the fallen tree. It was long, and seemed to move more like
+an immense serpent than an animal. It had a catlike face, with small ears
+and spiteful eyes, and a half-open mouth displaying a red tongue and
+sharp teeth. Its face was sly, malicious, cruel, and cowardly. It seemed
+to be such an animal as would attack one in the dark. It was much larger
+than a dog or common black bear.
+
+Mrs. Woods raised her gun, but she thought that she was too far from the
+house to risk an encounter with so powerful an animal. So she drew back
+slowly, and the animal did the same defiantly. She at last turned and ran
+to the house.
+
+"Gretchen," she said, "what do you think I have seen?"
+
+"The white squirrel."
+
+"No; a tiger!"
+
+"But there are no tigers here; so the chief said."
+
+"But I have just seen one, and it had the meanest-looking face that I ever
+saw on any living creature. It was all snarls. That animal is dangerous. I
+shall be almost afraid to be alone now."
+
+"I shall be afraid to go to school."
+
+"No, Gretchen, you needn't be afraid. I'll go with you mornin's and carry
+the gun. I like to walk mornin's under the trees, the air does smell so
+sweet."
+
+That night, just as the last low tints of the long twilight had
+disappeared and the cool, dewy airs began to move among the pines, a long,
+deep, fearful cry was heard issuing from the timber. Mrs. Woods started up
+from her bed and called, "Gretchen!"
+
+The girl had been awakened by the cry, which might have been that of a
+child of a giant in pain.
+
+"Did you hear that?" asked Mrs. Woods.
+
+"Let's get up and go out," said Gretchen.
+
+Presently the same long, clear, pitiable cry, as if some giant distress,
+was repeated.
+
+"It seems human," said Mrs. Woods. "It makes me want to know what it is.
+Yes, let us get up and go out."
+
+The cry was indeed pleading and magnetic. It excited pity and curiosity.
+There was a strange, mysterious quality about it that drew one toward it.
+It was repeated a third time and then ceased.
+
+There was a family by the name of Bonney who had taken a donated claim
+some miles from the Woodses on the Columbia. They had two boys who
+attended the school.
+
+Early the next morning one of these boys, named Arthur, came over to the
+Woodses in great distress, with a fearful story.
+
+"Something," he said, "has killed all of our cattle. They all lie dead
+near the clearing, just as though they were asleep. They are not injured,
+as we can see; they are not shot or bruised, nor do they seem to be
+poisoned--they are not swelled--they look as though they were alive--but
+they are cold--they are just dead. Did you hear anything in the timber
+last night?"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Woods. "Wasn't it mysterious? Lost your cattle, boy? I am
+sorry for your folks. Mabbie (may be) 'tis Injuns."
+
+"No; father says that he can find no injury on them."
+
+"'Tis awful mysterious like," said Mrs. Woods, "cattle dyin' without
+anything ailin' 'em! I've always thought this was a good country, but I
+don't know. Tell your folks I'm sorry for 'em. Can I do anything for you?
+I'll come over and see ye in the course of the day."
+
+That night the same strange, wild, pleading cry was repeated in the
+timber.
+
+"There's something very strange about that sound," said Mrs. Woods. "It
+makes me feel as though I must run toward it. It draws me. It makes me
+feel curi's. It has haunted me all day, and now it comes again."
+
+"Do you suppose that the cry has had anything to do with the death of Mr.
+Bonney's cattle?" asked Gretchen.
+
+"I don't know--we don't understand this country fully yet. There's
+something very mysterious about the death of those cattle. You ought to
+have seen 'em. They all lie there dead, as though they had just lost their
+breath, and that was all."
+
+The next night was silent. But, on the following morning, a boy came to
+the school with a strange story. He had been driving home his father's
+cows on the evening before, when an animal had dropped from a great tree
+on the neck of one of the cows, which struggled and lowed for a few
+minutes, then fell, and was found dead. The boy and the other cattle had
+run away on the sudden appearance of the animal. The dead cow presented
+the same appearance as the cows of Mr. Bonney had done.
+
+When the old chief appeared at the school-house with Benjamin that
+morning, the school gathered around him and asked him what these things
+could mean. He replied, in broken Chinook, that there was a puma among
+them, and that this animal sucked the blood of its victims.
+
+The puma or cougar or panther, sometimes spelled _painter_, is the
+American lion. It is commonly called the mountain lion in the Northwest.
+It belongs to the cat family, and received the name of lion from its tawny
+color. When its appetite for blood has been satisfied, and its face is in
+repose, it is a very beautiful animal; but when seeking its prey it
+presents a mean, cowardly, stealthy appearance, and its face is a picture
+of cruelty and evil. It will destroy as many as fifty sheep in a night,
+sucking their blood and leaving them as though they had died without any
+external injury. This terrible animal is easily tamed if captured young,
+and, strange to say, becomes one of the most affectionate and devoted of
+pets. It will purr about the feet and lick the hands of its master, and
+develop all the attractive characteristics of the domestic cat.
+
+"We must have a puma-hunt," said the chief, "now--right away."
+
+"Not to-day?" said the teacher.
+
+"Yes," said the chief, "now--he eat your children. Find boy dead some day,
+just like cow. He drop down from a tree on a papoose. Benjamin and I will
+go hunt."
+
+[Illustration: _The mountain lion._]
+
+The two disappeared. For several days they did not return. But, one
+morning, a party of Indians in hunting-gear came riding up to the
+school-house, full of gay spirits and heroic pride. Behind them came
+the old chief on foot, moving slowly, as though tired, and with him was
+Benjamin.
+
+The Indian boy had a brown skin of an animal on his shoulder--a raw hide
+with very beautiful fur.
+
+The old chief came into the school-room with an air of pride, and stood
+for a few minutes silent before the master. His face, though wrinkled, was
+really beautiful and noble, in the light of the happy intelligence that
+awaited communication. He at last looked each pupil in the face and then
+said:
+
+"We have killed the puma. School no fear now."
+
+He took the skin of the animal from Benjamin's shoulder, and held it up
+before the eyes of all.
+
+"Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?" he said.
+
+"It was you?" asked the teacher.
+
+"No--not me, not me, no!"
+
+"The braves?"
+
+"No--not the braves. No." The old chief paused, and then said:
+
+"Boston tilicum, it was Benjamin. Treat him well. He is good to me--he
+mean well. He likes you--he die for you. Tell the boys it was Benjamin."
+
+He turned away slowly, with a bearing of pride. The Indian boy gave the
+puma's skin to the master, and took his seat in silence. There was a
+spirit in the strange scene that was touching, and the master's lip
+quivered as he took the old chief's hand that bright morning, as a parting
+sign of gratitude and good-will. He felt the innate brotherhood of all
+human hearts, and returned to his desk happy in his calling and work; and
+seeing that the natural rights of all men were secured; and that the human
+heart has the same impulses everywhere, as he had never seen these truths
+before.
+
+That night Gretchen told the story of the puma to Mrs. Woods, who had
+learned the leading incidents of it in the afternoon as she came to meet
+the girl in the trail, on the way from school.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE SMOKE-TALK.
+
+
+One day in September Mrs. Woods was at work in her cabin, and Gretchen was
+at school. Mrs. Woods was trying to sing. She had a hard, harsh voice
+always, and the tune was a battle-cry. The hymn on which she was
+exercising her limited gifts was not one of the happy tunes of Methodism,
+which early settlers on the Columbia loved to sing. It was a very
+censorious rhyme and took a very despondent view of the human heart:
+
+    "The pure testimony poured forth from the Spirit
+      Cuts like a two-edged sword;
+     And hypocrites now are most sorely tormented
+      Because they're condemned by the Word."
+
+She made the word "hypocrites" ring through the solitary log-cabin--she
+seemed to have the view that a large population of the world were of this
+class of people. She paused in her singing and looked out of the door.
+
+"There's one honest woman alive," she remarked to herself. "Thank Heaven,
+_I_ never yet feared the face of clay!"
+
+A tall, dark form met her eye--a great shadow in the scintillant sunlight.
+It was an aged Indian, walking with a staff. He was coming toward the
+cabin.
+
+"Umatilla!" she said. "What can he want of me?"
+
+The old chief approached, and bowed and sat down on a log that answered
+for a door-step.
+
+"I walk with a staff now," he said. "My bow has drifted away on the tide
+of years--it will never come back again. I am old."
+
+"You have been a good man," said Mrs. Woods, yielding to an impulse of her
+better nature. She presently added, as though she had been too generous,
+"And there aren't many good Injuns--nor white folks either for that
+matter."
+
+"I have come to have a smoke-talk with you," said the old chief, taking
+out his pipe and asking Mrs. Woods to light it. "Listen! I want to go
+home. When a child is weary, I take him by the hand and point him to the
+smoke of his wigwam. He goes home and sleeps. I am weary. The Great Spirit
+has taken me by the hand; he points to the smoke of the wigwam. There
+comes a time when all want to go home. I want to go home. Umatilla is
+going home. I have _not_ spoken."
+
+The smoke from his pipe curled over his white head in the pure, clear
+September air. He was eighty or more years of age. He had heard the
+traditions of Juan de Fuca, the Greek pilot, who left his name on the
+straits of the Puget Sea. He had heard of the coming of Vancouver in his
+boyhood, the English explorer who named the seas and mountains for his
+lieutenants and friends, Puget, Baker, Ranier, and Townsend. He had known
+the forest lords of the Hudson Bay Company, and of Astoria; had seen the
+sail of Gray as it entered the Columbia, and had heard the preaching of
+Jason Lee. The murder of Whitman had caused him real sorrow. Umatilla was
+a man of peace. He had loved to travel up and down the Columbia, and visit
+the great bluffs of the Puget Sea. He lived for a generation at peace with
+all the tribes, and now that he was old he was venerated by them all.
+
+"You are a good old Injun," said Mrs. Woods, yielding to her better self
+again. "I don't say it about many people. I do think you have done your
+best--considering."
+
+"I am not what I want to be," said Umatilla. "It is what we want to be
+that we shall be one day; don't you think so? The Great Spirit is going to
+make me what I want to be--he will make us all what we want to be. My
+desires are better than I--I will be my desires by and by. My staff is in
+my hand, and I am going home. The old warriors have gone home. They were
+thick as the flowers of the field, thick as the stars of the night. My
+boys are gone home--they were swift as the hawks in the air. Benjamin is
+left to the Umatillas. He is no butcher-bird; no forked tongue--he will
+remember the shade of his father. My heart is in his heart. I am going
+home. I have _not_ spoken."
+
+He puffed his pipe again, and watched an eagle skimming along on the great
+over-sea of September gold. The Indian language is always picturesque, and
+deals in symbols and figures of speech. It is picture-speaking. The
+Indians are all poets in their imaginations, like children. This habit of
+personification grows in the Indian mind with advancing years. Every old
+Indian speaks in poetic figures. Umatilla had not yet "spoken," as he
+said; he had been talking in figures, and merely approaching his subject.
+
+There was a long pause. He then laid down his pipe. He was about to speak:
+
+"Woman, open your ears. The Great Spirit lives in women, and old people,
+and little children. He loves the smoke of the wigwam, and the green
+fields of the flowers, and the blue gardens of stars. And he loves
+music--it is his voice, the whisper of the soul.
+
+"He spoke in the pine-tops, on the lips of the seas, in the shell, in the
+reed and the war-drum. Then _she_ came. He speaks through _her_. I want
+_her_ to speak for me. My people are angry. There are butcher-birds among
+them. They hate you--they hate the cabin of the white man. The white men
+take away their room, overthrow their forests, kill their deer. There is
+danger in the air.
+
+"The October moon will come. It will grow. It will turn into a sun on the
+border of the night. Then come Potlatch. My people ask for the Dance of
+the Evil One. I no consent--it means graves.
+
+"Let me have _her_ a moon--she play on the air. She play at the Potlatch
+for me. She stand by my side. The Great Spirit speak through her. Indians
+listen. They will think of little ones, they will think of departed ones,
+they will think of the hunt--they will see graves. Then the night will
+pass. Then the smoke will rise again from white man's cabin. Then I die
+in peace, and go home to the Great Spirit and rest. Will you let me have
+her? I _have_ spoken."
+
+Mrs. Woods comprehended the figurative speech. The old chief wished to
+take Gretchen to his wigwam for a month, and have her play the violin on
+the great night of the Potlatch. He hoped that the influence of the music
+would aid him in preventing the Dance of the Evil Spirits, and a massacre
+of the white settlers. What should she say?
+
+"I will talk with Gretchen," she said. "You mean well. I can trust you. We
+will see."
+
+He rose slowly, leaning on his staff, and emptied his pipe. It required a
+resolute will now to cause his withered limbs to move. But his steps
+became free after a little walking, and he moved slowly away. Poor old
+chief of the Cascades! It was something like another Sermon on the Mount
+that he had spoken, but he knew not how closely his heart had caught the
+spirit of the Divine Teacher.
+
+When Gretchen came home from school, Mrs. Woods told her what had
+happened, and what the old chief had asked.
+
+Mr. Woods had returned from the block-houses. He said: "Gretchen, go!
+Your _Traumerei_ will save the colony. Go!"
+
+Gretchen sat in silence for a moment. She then said: "I can trust
+Umatilla. I will go. I want to go. Something unseen is leading me--I feel
+it. I do not know the way, but I can trust my guide. I have only one
+desire, if I am young, and that is to do right. But is it right to leave
+you, mother?"
+
+"Mother!" how sweet that word sounded to poor Mrs. Woods! She had never
+been a mother. Tears filled her eyes--she forced them back.
+
+"Yes, Gretchen--go. I've always had to fight my way through the world, and
+I can continue to do so. I've had some things to harden my heart; but, no
+matter what you may do, Gretchen, I'll always be a mother to _you_. You'll
+always find the latch-string on the outside. You ain't the wust girl that
+ever was, if I did have a hand in bringing you up. Yes--go."
+
+"Your heart is right now," said Gretchen; "and I want to speak to you
+about Benjamin. He told me a few days ago that he hated you, but that no
+one should ever harm you, because he loved the Master."
+
+"He did, did he?" said Mrs. Woods, starting up. "Well, I hate him, and
+I'll never forgive him for tellin' you such a thing as that."
+
+"But, mother, don't you love _the_ Master, and won't you be friendly and
+forgiving to Benjamin, for _his_ sake? I wish you would. It would give you
+power; I want you to do so."
+
+"I'll think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these
+things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Father Lee. The boy has
+some good in him."
+
+"I wish you would tell him that."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Sympathy makes one grow so."
+
+"That's so, Gretchen. Only praise a dog for his one good quality, and it
+will make a good dog of him. I 'spect 'tis the same with folks. But my
+nature don't break up easy. I shall come out right some time. I tell you
+I'm goin' to have a talk with Father Lee. It is his preachin' that has
+made me what I am, and may be I'll be better by and by."
+
+Mrs. Woods, with all her affected courage, had good reason to fear an
+Indian outbreak, and to use every influence to prevent it. The very
+mention of the Potlatch filled her with recent terror. She well knew the
+story of the destruction of Whitman and a part of his missionary colony.
+
+_That_ was a terrible event, and it was a scene like that that the new
+settlers feared, at the approaching Potlatch; and the thought of that
+dreadful day almost weakened the faith of Mr. Mann in the Indians.
+
+We must tell you the old-time history of the tragedy which was now revived
+in the new settlement.
+
+
+_THE CONJURED MELONS._
+
+Most people who like history are familiar with the national story of
+Marcus Whitman's "Ride for Oregon"[A]--that daring horseback trip across
+the continent, from the Columbia to the Missouri, which enabled him to
+convince the United States Government not only that Oregon could be
+reached, but that it was worth possessing. Exact history has robbed this
+story of some of its romance, but it is still one of the noblest
+wonder-tales of our own or any nation. Monuments and poetry and art must
+forever perpetuate it, for it is full of spiritual meaning.
+
+Lovers of missionary lore have read with delight the ideal romance of the
+two brides who agreed to cross the Rocky Mountains with their husbands,
+Whitman and Spaulding; how one of them sang, in the little country church
+on departing, the whole of the hymn--
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+when the voices of others failed from emotion. They have read how the
+whole party knelt down on the Great Divide, beside the open Bible and
+under the American flag, and took possession of the great empire of the
+Northwest in faith and in imagination, and how history fulfilled the
+dream.
+
+At the time of the coming of the missionaries the Cayuse Indians and
+Nez-Perces occupied the elbow of the Columbia, and the region of the
+musical names of the Wallula, the Walla Walla, and Wauelaptu. They were a
+superstitious, fierce, and revengful race. They fully believed in
+witchcraft or conjuring, and in the power to work evil through familiar
+spirits. Everything to them and the neighboring tribes had its good or
+evil spirit, or both--the mountains, the rivers, the forest, the sighing
+cedars, and the whispering firs.
+
+The great plague of the tribes on the middle Columbia was the measles. The
+disease was commonly fatal among them, owing largely to the manner of
+treatment. When an Indian began to show the fever which is characteristic
+of the disease, he was put into and inclosed in a hot clay oven. As soon
+as he was covered with a profuse perspiration he was let out, to leap into
+the cold waters of the Columbia. Usually the plunge was followed by death.
+
+There was a rule among these Indians, in early times, that if the
+"medicine-man" undertook a case and failed to cure, he forfeited his own
+life. The killing of the medicine-man was one of the dramatic and fearful
+episodes of the Columbia.
+
+Returning from the East after his famous ride, Whitman built up a noble
+mission station at Wauelaptu. He was a man of strong character, and of fine
+tastes and ideals. The mission-house was an imposing structure for the
+place and time. It had beautiful trees and gardens, and inspiring
+surroundings.
+
+Mrs. Whitman was a remarkable woman, as intelligent and sympathetic as she
+was heroic. The colony became a prosperous one, and for a time occupied
+the happy valley of the West.
+
+One of the vices of the Cayuse Indians and their neighbors was stealing.
+The mission station may have overawed them for a time into seeming
+honesty, but they began to rob its gardens at last, and out of this
+circumstance comes a story, related to me by an old Territorial officer,
+which may be new to most readers. I do not vouch for it, but only say that
+the narrator of the principal incidents is an old Territorial judge who
+lives near the place of the Whitman tragedy, and who knew many of the
+survivors, and has a large knowledge of the Indian races of the Columbia.
+To his statements I add some incidents of another pioneer:
+
+"The thieving Cayuses have made 'way with our melons again," said a young
+farmer one morning, returning from the gardens of the station. "One theft
+will be followed by another. I know the Cayuses. Is there no way to stop
+them?"
+
+One of the missionary fraternity was sitting quietly among the trees. It
+was an August morning. The air was a living splendor, clear and warm, with
+now and then a breeze that rippled the leaves like the waves of the sea.
+
+He looked up from his book, and considered the question half-seriously,
+half-humorously.
+
+"I know how we used to prevent boys from stealing melons in the East,"
+said he.
+
+"How?"
+
+"Put some tartar emetic in the biggest one. In the morning it would be
+gone, but the boys would never come after any more melons."
+
+The young farmer understood the remedy, and laughed.
+
+"And," added he, "the boys didn't have much to say about melons after they
+had eaten _that_ one. The subject no longer interested them. I guess the
+Indians would not care for more than one melon of that kind."
+
+"I would like to see a wah-wah of Indian thieves over a melon like that!"
+said the gardener. "I declare, I and the boys will do it!"
+
+He went to his work, laughing. That day he obtained some of the emetic
+from the medical stores of the station, and plugged it into three or four
+of the finest melons. Next morning he found that these melons were gone.
+
+The following evening a tall Indian came slowly and solemnly to the
+station. His face had a troubled look, and there was an air of mystery
+about his gait and attitude. He stopped before one of the assistant
+missionaries, drew together his blanket, and said:
+
+"Some one here no goot. You keep a conjurer in the camp. Indian kill
+conjurer. Conjurer ought die; him danger, him no goot."
+
+The laborers gathered round the stately Indian. They all knew about the
+nauseating melons, and guessed why he had come. All laughed as they heard
+his solemn words. The ridicule incensed him.
+
+"You one conjurer," he said, "he conjure melons. One moon, two moons, he
+shall die."
+
+The laborers laughed again.
+
+"Half moon, more moons, he shall suffer--half moon, more moons," that is,
+sooner or later.
+
+The missionary's face grew serious. The tall Indian saw the change of
+expression.
+
+"Braves sick." He spread out his blanket and folded it again like wings.
+"Braves double up _so_"--he bent over, opening and folding his blanket.
+"Braves conjured; melon conjured--white man conjure. Indian kill him."
+
+There was a puzzled look on all faces.
+
+"Braves get well again," said the missionary, incautiously.
+
+"Then you _know_," said the Indian. "You know--you conjure. Make
+sick--make well!"
+
+He drew his blanket again around him and strode away with an injured look
+in his face, and vanished into the forests.
+
+"I am sorry for this joke," said the missionary; "it bodes no good."
+
+November came. The nights were long, and there was a perceptible coolness
+in the air, even in this climate of April days.
+
+Joe Stanfield, a half-breed Canadian and a member of Whitman's family, was
+observed to spend many of the lengthening evenings with the Cayuses in
+their lodges. He had been given a home by Whitman, to whom he had seemed
+for a time devoted.
+
+Joe Lewis, an Indian who had come to Whitman sick and half-clad, and had
+received shelter and work from him, seems to have been on intimate terms
+with Stanfield, and the two became bitter enemies to the mission and
+sought to turn the Cayuses against it, contrary to all the traditions of
+Indian gratitude.
+
+In these bright autumn days of 1847 a great calamity fell upon the Indians
+of the Columbia. It was the plague. This disease was the terror of the
+Northwestern tribes. The Cayuses caught the infection. Many sickened and
+died, and Whitman was appealed to by the leading Indians to stay the
+disease. He undertook the treatment of a number of cases, but his patients
+died.
+
+The hunter's moon was now burning low in the sky. The gathering of rich
+harvests of furs had begun, and British and American fur-traders were
+seeking these treasures on every hand. But at the beginning of these
+harvests the Cayuses were sickening and dying, and the mission was
+powerless to stay the pestilence.
+
+A secret council of Cayuses and half-breeds was held one night under the
+hunter's moon near Walla Walla, or else on the Umatilla. Five Crows, the
+warrior, was there with Joe Lewis, of Whitman's household, and Joe
+Stanfield, alike suspicious and treacherous, and old Mungo, the
+interpreter. Sitkas, a leading Indian, may have been present, as the story
+I am to give came in part from him.
+
+Joe Lewis was the principal speaker. Addressing the Cayuses, he said:
+
+"The moon brightens; your tents fill with furs. But Death, the robber, is
+among you. Who sends Death among you? The White Chief (Whitman). And why
+does the White Chief send among you Death, the robber, with his poison?
+That he may possess your furs."
+
+"Then why do the white people themselves have the disease?" asked a
+Cayuse.
+
+None could answer. The question had turned Joe Lewis's word against him,
+when a tall Indian arose and spread his blanket open like a wing. He stood
+for a time silent, statuesque, and thoughtful. The men waited seriously
+to hear what he would say.
+
+It was the same Indian who had appeared at the mission after the joke of
+the plugged melons.
+
+"Brothers, listen. The missionaries are conjurers. They conjured the
+melons at Wauelaptu. They made the melons sick. I went to missionary chief.
+He say, 'I make the melons well.' I leave the braves sick, with their
+faces turned white, when I go to the chief. I return, and they are well
+again. The missionaries conjure the melons, to save their gardens. They
+conjure you now, to get your furs."
+
+The evidence was conclusive to the Cayuse mind. The missionaries were
+conjurers. The council resolved that all the medicine-men in the country
+should be put to death, and among the first to perish should be Whitman,
+the conjurer.
+
+Such in effect was the result of the secret council or councils held
+around Wauelaptu.
+
+Whitman felt the change that had come over the disposition of the tribes,
+but he did not know what was hidden behind the dark curtain. His great
+soul was full of patriotic fire, of love to all men, and zeal for the
+gospel.
+
+He was nothing to himself--the cause was everything. He rode hither and
+thither on the autumn days and bright nights, engaged in his great work.
+
+He went to Oregon City for supplies.
+
+"Mr. McKinley," he said to a friend, "a Cayuse chief has told me that the
+Indians are about to kill all the medicine-men, and myself among them. I
+think he was jesting."
+
+"Dr. Whitman," said McKinley, "a Cayuse chief never jests."
+
+He was right. The fateful days wore on. The splendid nights glimmered over
+Mount Hood, and glistened on the serrated mountain tents of eternal snow.
+The Indians continued to sicken and die, and the universal suspicion of
+the tribes fell upon Whitman.
+
+Suddenly there was a war-cry! The mission ran with blood. Whitman and his
+wife were the first to fall. Then horror succeeded horror, and many of the
+heroic pioneers of the Columbia River perished.
+
+"The Jesuits have been accused of causing the murder of Whitman," said one
+historian of Washington to me. "They indignantly deny it. I have studied
+the whole subject for years with this opinion, that the Indian outbreak
+and its tragedies had its origin, and largely gathered its force, from
+the terrible joke of the conjured melons.
+
+"That was the evidence that must have served greatly to turn the Indian
+mind against one of the bravest men that America has produced, and whose
+name will stand immortal among the heroes of Washington and Oregon."
+
+I give this account as a local story, and not as exact history; but this
+tradition was believed by the old people in Washington.
+
+When any one in the new settlement spoke of the Potlatch, this scene came
+up like a shadow. Would it be repeated?
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote A: See Historical Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE BLACK EAGLE'S NEST.
+
+
+In the log school-house, Lewis and Clarke's Expedition was used as a
+reading-book. Master Mann had adopted it because it was easy to obtain,
+and served as a sort of local geography and history.
+
+In this book is an account of a great black eagle's nest, on the Falls of
+the Missouri; and the incident seemed intensely to interest the
+picturesque mind of Benjamin.
+
+"Let us go see," said Benjamin, one day after this poetic part of Lewis
+and Clarke's narrative had been read.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Mann.
+
+"I carry canoe, and we go and find him!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"The black eagle's nest."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I'll get a plume--wear it here. Please father. I love to please father."
+
+There was to be a few weeks' vacation in a part of September and October,
+and Benjamin's suggestion led Mr. Mann to plan an excursion to the Falls
+of the Missouri at that time. The old chief would be glad to have Benjamin
+go with him and help hunt, and carry the canoe. They would follow the
+Salmon River out of the Columbia, to a point near the then called
+Jefferson River, and so pass the mountains, and launch themselves on the
+Missouri, whence the way would be easy to the Falls.
+
+The dream of this expedition seemed to make Benjamin perfectly happy. He
+had already been over a part of this territory, with his father, on a
+visit to the friendly tribes.
+
+The mid-autumn in the valleys of the Columbia and Missouri Rivers is
+serene, and yet kindles, with a sort of fiery splendor. The perfect days
+of America are here.
+
+Master Mann and Benjamin started on their expedition with a few Indians,
+who were to see them to the Jefferson River and there leave them.
+
+The Yankee schoolmaster had a prophetic soul, and he felt that he was
+treading the territory of future empires.
+
+Launched on the Missouri, the thought of what the vast plains might become
+overwhelmed him at times, and he would lie silent in his boat, and pray
+and dream.
+
+The soul of the Indian boy seemed as bright as the golden air of the
+cloudless days, during most of the time on the Salmon River, and while
+passing through the mountains. But he would sometimes start up suddenly,
+and a shade would settle on his face.
+
+Master Mann noticed these sudden changes of mood, and he once said to him:
+
+"What makes you turn sad, Benjamin?"
+
+"Potlatch."
+
+"But that is a dance."
+
+"Hawks."
+
+"I think not, Benjamin!"
+
+"You do not know. They have a bitter heart. My father does not sleep. It
+is you that keeps him awake. He loves you; you love me and treat me well;
+he loves you, and want to treat you well--see. _She_ make trouble. Indians
+meet at night--talk bitter. They own the land. They have rights. They
+threaten. Father no sleep. Sorry."
+
+
+_THE FALLS OF THE MISSOURI._
+
+The Falls of the Missouri are not only wonderful and beautiful, but they
+abound with grand traditions. Before we follow our young explorer to the
+place, let us give you, good reader, some views of this part of Montana as
+it was and as it now appears.
+
+We recently looked out on the island that once lifted the great black
+eagle's nest over the plunging torrent of water--the nest famous,
+doubtless, among the Indians, long before the days of Lewis and Clarke.
+
+We were shown, in the city of Great Falls, a mounted eagle, which, it was
+claimed, came from this nest amid the mists and rainbows. The fall near
+this island, in the surges, is now known as the Black Eagle's Fall.
+
+This waterfall has not the beauty or the grandeur of the other
+cataracts--the Rainbow Falls and the Great Falls--a few miles distant. But
+it gathers the spell of poetic tradition about it, and strongly appeals to
+the sense of the artist and the poet. The romancer would choose it for his
+work, as the black eagles chose it for their home.
+
+Near it is one of the most lovely fountains in the world, called the Giant
+Spring.
+
+    "Close beside the great Missouri,
+       Ere it takes its second leap,
+     Is a spring of sparkling water
+       Like a river broad and deep."
+
+The spring pours out of the earth near the fall in a great natural
+fountain, emerald-green, clear as crystal, bordered with water-cresses,
+and mingles its waters with the clouded surges of the Missouri. If a
+person looks down into this fountain from a point near enough for him to
+touch his nose to the water, all the fairy-like scenes of the Silver
+Springs and the Waukulla Spring in Florida appear. The royal halls and
+chambers of Undine meet the view, with gardens of emeralds and gem-bearing
+ferns. It kindles one's fancy to gaze long into these crystal caverns, and
+a practical mind could hardly resist here the poetic sense of Fouque that
+created Undine.
+
+The Black Eagle Falls, with its great nest and marvelous fountains, was a
+favorite resort of the Blackfeet Indians and other Indian tribes. It is
+related in the old traditions that the Piegans, on one of their
+expeditions against the Crows, rested here, and became enchanted with the
+fountain:
+
+    "Hither came the warrior Piegans
+       On their way to fight the Crow;
+     Stood upon its verge, and wondered
+       What could mean the power below."
+
+The Piegans were filled with awe that the fountain rose and fell and
+gurgled, as if in spasms of pain. They sent for a native medicine-man.
+
+"Why is the fountain troubled?" they asked.
+
+"This," said the Indian prophet, "is the pure stream that flows through
+the earth to the sun. It asks for offerings. We cast the spoils of war
+into it, and it carries them away to the Sun's _tepee_, and the Sun is
+glad, and so shines for us all."
+
+The Blackfeet worshiped the Sun. The Sun River, a few miles above this
+cataract, was a medicine or sacred river in the tribal days, and it was in
+this region of gleaming streams and thundering waterfalls that the once
+famous Sun-dances were held.
+
+There was a barbarous splendor about these Sun-dances. The tribes gathered
+for the festival in the long, bright days of the year. They wore ornaments
+of crystal, quartz, and mica, such as would attract and reflect the rays
+of the sun. The dance was a glimmering maze of reflections. As it reached
+its height, gleaming arrows were shot into the air. Above them, in their
+poetic vision, sat the Sun in his _tepee_. They held that the thunder was
+caused by the wings of a great invisible bird. Often, at the close of the
+Sun-dance on the sultry days, the clouds would gather, and the
+thunder-bird would shake its wings above them and cool the air. Delightful
+times were these old festivals on the Missouri. At evening, in the long
+Northern twilights, they would recount the traditions of the past. Some of
+the old tales of the Blackfeet, Piegans, and Chippewas, are as charming as
+those of La Fontaine.
+
+The Rainbow Falls are far more beautiful than those of the Black Eagle.
+They are some six miles from the new city of Great Falls. A long stairway
+of two hundred or more steps conducts the tourist into their very
+mist-land of rocks and surges. Here one is almost deafened by the thunder.
+When the sun is shining, the air is glorious with rainbows, that haunt the
+mists like a poet's dream.
+
+The Great Fall, some twelve miles from the city, plunges nearly a hundred
+feet, and has a roar like that of Niagara. It is one of the greatest
+water-powers of the continent.
+
+The city of Great Falls is leaping into life in a legend-haunted region.
+Its horizon is a borderland of wonders. Afar off gleam the Highwood
+Mountains, with roofs of glistening snow. Buttes (hills with level tops)
+rise like giant pyramids here and there, and one may almost imagine that
+he is in the land of the Pharaohs. Bench lands diversify the wide plains.
+Ranches and great flocks are everywhere; armies of cattle; creeks shaded
+with cottonwood and box-elder; birds and flowers; and golden eagles
+gleaming in the air. The Rockies wall the northern plains.
+
+The Belt Mountain region near Great Falls is a wonder-land, like the
+Garden of the Gods in Colorado, or the Goblin Land near the Yellowstone.
+It would seem that it ought to be made a State park. Here one fancies
+one's self to be amid the ruins of castles, cathedrals, and fortresses, so
+fantastic are the shapes of the broken mountain-walls. It is a land of
+birds and flowers; of rock roses, wild sunflowers, golden-rods; of
+wax-wings, orioles, sparrows, and eagles. Here roams the stealthy mountain
+lion.
+
+This region, too, has its delightful legends.
+
+One of these legends will awaken great curiosity as the State of Montana
+grows, and she seems destined to become the monarch of States.
+
+In 1742 Sieur de la Verendrye, the French Governor of Quebec, sent out an
+expedition, under his sons and brother, that discovered the Rocky
+Mountains, which were named _La Montana Roches_. On the 12th of May, 1744,
+this expedition visited the upper Missouri, and planted on an eminence,
+probably in the near region of Great Falls, a leaden plate bearing the
+arms of France, and raised a monument above it, which the Verendryes named
+_Beauharnois_. It is stated that this monument was erected on a
+river-bluff, between bowlders, and that it was twenty feet in diameter.
+
+There are people who claim to have discovered this monument, but they fail
+to produce the leaden plate with the arms of France that the explorers
+buried. The search for this hidden plate will one day begin, and the
+subject is likely greatly to interest historical societies in Montana, and
+to become a very poetic mystery.
+
+Into this wonder-land of waterfalls, sun-dances, and legends, our young
+explorers came, now paddling in their airy canoe, now bearing the canoe on
+their backs around the falls.
+
+Mr. Mann's white face was a surprise to the native tribes that they met on
+the way, but Benjamin's brightness and friendly ways made the journey of
+both easy.
+
+They came to the Black Eagle Falls. The great nest still was there. It was
+as is described in the book of the early explorers.
+
+It hung over the mists of the rapids, and, strangely enough, there were
+revealed three black plumes in the nest.
+
+Benjamin beheld these plumes with a kind of religious awe. His eyes
+dilated as he pointed to them.
+
+"They are for me," he said. "One for me, one for father, and one for you.
+I'll get them all."
+
+He glided along a shelf of rocks toward the little island, and mounted the
+tree. The black eagles were yet there, though their nest was empty. He
+passed up the tree under the wings of the eagles, and came down with a
+handful of feathers.
+
+"The book was true," said he.
+
+They went to Medicine River, now called the Sun River, and there witnessed
+a Sun-dance.
+
+It was a scene to tempt a brilliant painter or poet. The chiefs and
+warriors were arrayed in crystals, quartz, and every bright product of the
+earth and river that would reflect the glory of the sun.
+
+They returned from where the city of Great Falls is now, back to the
+mountains and to the tributaries of the Columbia. Benjamin appeared
+before his father, on his return, with a crest of black eagle's plumes,
+and this crest the young Indian knight wore until the day of his death.
+
+"I shall wear mine always," he said to his father. "You wear yours."
+
+"Yes," said his father, with a face that showed a full heart.
+
+"Both together," said Benjamin.
+
+"Both together," replied Umatilla.
+
+"Always?" said Benjamin.
+
+"Always," answered the chief.
+
+The Indians remembered these words. Somehow there seemed to be something
+prophetic in them. Wherever, from that day, Umatilla or Young Eagle's
+Plume was seen, each wore the black feather from the great eagle's nest,
+amid the mists and rainbows or mist-bows of the Falls of the Missouri.
+
+It was a touch of poetic sentiment, but these Indian races of the Columbia
+lived in a region that was itself a school of poetry. The Potlatch was
+sentiment, and the Sun-dance was an actual poem. Many of the tents of skin
+abounded with picture-writing, and the stories told by the night fires
+were full of picturesque figures.
+
+Gretchen's poetic eye found subjects for verse in all these things, and
+she often wrote down her impressions, and read them to practical Mrs.
+Woods, who affected to ignore such things, but yet seemed secretly
+delighted with them.
+
+"You have _talons_" she used to say, "but they don't amount to anything,
+anyway. Nevertheless--"
+
+The expedition to the Falls of the Missouri, and the new and strange
+sights which Benjamin saw there, led him to desire to make other trips
+with the schoolmaster, to whom he became daily more and more attached. In
+fact, the Indian boy came to follow his teacher about with a kind of
+jealous watchfulness. He seemed to be perfectly happy when the latter was
+with him, and, when absent from him, he talked of him more than of any
+other person.
+
+In the middle of autumn the sky was often clouded with wild geese, which
+in V-shaped flocks passed in long processions overhead, _honking_ in a
+trumpet-like manner. Sometimes a flock of snowy geese would be seen, and
+the laughing goose would be heard.
+
+"Where do they go?" said Mr. Mann one day to Benjamin.
+
+The boy told him of a wonderful island, now known as Whidby, where there
+were great gatherings of flocks of geese in the fall.
+
+"Let's go see," said he. "The geese are thicker than the bushes there--the
+ponds are all alive with them there--honk--honk--honk! Let's go see."
+
+"When the school is over for the fall we will go," said Mr. Mann.
+
+The Indian boy's face beamed with delight. He dreamed of another
+expedition like that to the wonderful Falls. He would there show the
+master the great water cities of the wild geese, the emigrants of the air.
+The thought of it made him dance with delight.
+
+Often at nightfall great flocks of the Canada geese would follow the
+Columbia towards the sea. Benjamin would watch them with a heart full of
+anticipation. It made him supremely happy to show the master the wonderful
+things of the beautiful country, and the one ambition of his heart now was
+to go to the lakes of the _honks_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.
+
+
+"Go to the chief's lodge, Gretchen, and stay until the Potlatch, and I
+will come to visit you." Such were the words of Mrs. Woods, as her final
+decision, after long considering the chief's request.
+
+The forest lodge of the old chief of the Cascades was picturesque without
+and within. Outwardly, it was a mere tent of skins and curious
+pictography, under the shadows of gigantic trees, looking down on the
+glistening waters of the Columbia; inwardly, it was a museum of relics of
+the supposed era of the giant-killers, and of the deep regions of the
+tooth and claw; of Potlatches, masques and charms of _medas_ and
+_wabenoes_; of curious pipes; of odd, curious feathers, and beautiful
+shells and feather-work and pearls. But, though all things here were rude
+and primitive, the old chief had a strong poetic sense, and the place and
+the arrangement of everything in it were very picturesque in its effect,
+and would have delighted an artist. On a hill near were grave-posts, and a
+sacred grove, in which were bark coffins in trees. Near by was an open
+field where the Indian hunters were accustomed to gather their peltries,
+and where visiting bands of Indians came to be hospitably entertained, and
+feasts were given _a la mode de sauvage_. From the plateau of the royal
+lodge ran long forest trails and pathways of blazed trees; and near the
+opening to the tent rose two poles, to indicate the royal rank of the
+occupant. These were ornamented with ideographic devices of a historical
+and religious character.
+
+The family of Umatilla consisted of his squaw, an old woman partly
+demented, and Benjamin, who was now much of the time away with the
+schoolmaster.
+
+The old chief was very kind to his unfortunate wife, and treated her like
+a child or a doll. Benjamin was about to take as his bride an Indian girl
+whom the English called Fair Cloud, and she was a frequent visitor at the
+tent.
+
+To this patriarchal family Gretchen came one day, bringing her violin.
+Fair Cloud was there to receive her, and the crazy old squaw seemed to be
+made happy by the sight of her white face, and she did all that she could
+in her simple way to make her welcome. She gave her ornaments of shells,
+and pointed out to her a wabeno-tree, in whose tops spirits were supposed
+to whisper, and around which Indian visitors sometimes danced in the
+summer evenings.
+
+The Indian maid was eager to hear the violin, but the old chief said: "It
+is the voice of the Merciful; let it be still--the god should not speak
+much."
+
+He seemed to wish to reserve the influence of the instrument for the
+Potlatch, to make it an object of wonder and veneration for a time, that
+its voice might be more magical when it should be heard.
+
+There was a kind of tambourine, ornamented with fan-like feathers, in the
+lodge. Fair Cloud used to play upon it, or rather shake it in a rhythmic
+way. There was also a war-drum in the lodge, and an Indian called
+Blackhoof used to beat it, and say:
+
+    "I walk upon the sky,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear;
+    When the sun goes out at noon,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear!
+
+    "When forked lightnings flash,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear.
+     I walk upon the sky,
+     And call the clouds; be still,
+      My war-drum 'tis you hear!"
+
+The tribes of the Oregon at this time were numerous but small. They
+consisted chiefly of the Chinooks, Vancouvers, the Walla Wallas, the
+Yacomars, the Spokans, the Cayuses, the Nez-Perces, the Skagits, the
+Cascades, and many tribes that were scarcely more than families. They were
+for the most part friendly with each other, and they found in the Oregon
+or Columbia a common fishing-ground, and a water-way to all their
+territories. They lived easily. The woods were full of game, and the river
+of salmon, and berries loaded the plateaus. Red whortleberries filled the
+woodland pastures and blackberries the margins of the woods.
+
+The climate was an almost continuous April; there was a cloudy season in
+winter with rainy nights, but the Japanese winds ate up the snows, and the
+ponies grazed out of doors in mid-winter, and spring came in February. It
+was almost an ideal existence that these old tribes or families of Indians
+lived.
+
+[Illustration: _An Indian village on the Columbia._]
+
+Among the early friends of these people was Dick Trevette, whose tomb
+startles the tourist on the Columbia as he passes Mamaloose, or the Island
+of the Dead. He died in California, and his last request was that he might
+be buried in the Indian graveyard on the Columbia River, among a race
+whose hearts had always been true to him.
+
+The old chief taught Gretchen to fish in the Columbia, and the withered
+crone cooked the fish that she caught.
+
+Strange visitors came to the lodge, among them an Indian girl who brought
+her old, withered father strapped upon her back. The aged Indian wished to
+pay his last respects to Umatilla.
+
+Indians of other tribes came, and they were usually entertained at a
+feast, and in the evening were invited to dance about the whispering tree.
+
+The song for the reception of strangers, which was sung at the dance, was
+curious, and it was accompanied by striking the hand upon the breast over
+the heart at the words "Here, here, here":
+
+    "You resemble a friend of mine,
+     A friend I would have in my heart--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "My heart is linked to thine;
+     You are like a friend of mine--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "Are we not brothers, then;
+     Shall we not meet again--
+          Here, here, _here_?
+
+    "Mi, yes, we brothers be,
+     So my fond heart sings to thee--
+          Here, here, _here_.
+
+    "Ah! yes, we brothers be;
+     Will you not answer me--
+          Here, here, _here_?"
+
+Gretchen was happy in the new kind of life. She did not fear the Indians;
+in fact, the thing that she feared most was the promised visit of Mrs.
+Woods. She was sure that her foster-mother's spirit would change toward
+the Indians, but the change had not yet come.
+
+One evening the schoolmaster came to call. He was bent upon a mission, as
+always. The family gave him a seat outside of the tent, and gathered
+around him, and they talked until the stars came out and were mirrored in
+the Columbia.
+
+One of the first questions asked by the old chief was, "Is Eagle's Plume
+(Benjamin) brave?" (a good scholar).
+
+"Yes, brave at times; he must learn to be brave always. He must always
+keep his better self. The world would be good if people would learn to
+keep their better selves. Do you see?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A chief should conquer himself first; obey the will of the Great
+Manitou--do you see?"
+
+"Yes, but how can we know his will?"
+
+"It is his will that we be our best minds. Forgive, and so make bad people
+good, and return good for bad. Do you see?"
+
+"Yes, boy, do you see?" (to Benjamin).
+
+"Yes, yes, I see what white man means. But white man do not so. He
+cheat--he kill."
+
+"_Boston tilicum_, what do you say?" asked the chief.
+
+"White man does not follow his best heart when he cheats and kills. It is
+wrong. All men should be brothers--see?"
+
+"Yes, I have tried to be a brother. I have no shed blood--I live in
+peace--like yonder river. The stars love to shine on the peaceful river.
+Benjamin will learn. I go away when the swallows go, and no more come when
+the swallows bring the spring on their wings again. Teach Benjamin to be
+his good self all the time; make him good _here_."
+
+All the Indian visitors who came to the place examined the violin
+cautiously, and the Indian hunters seemed to regard Gretchen with
+suspicion. When any asked her to play for them, the old chief would
+answer: "Not now, but at the Potlatch--then it speak and you will hear;
+you will hear what it says."
+
+But, of all the people that came to the lodge, no one could have been more
+curious than Mrs. Woods. She had been living in terror of the threatened
+events of the October feast, and yet she wished to make the Indians
+believe that she was indifferent to their ill-will, and that she possessed
+some hidden power that gave her security.
+
+She approached the lodge slowly on the occasion of her visit, picking red
+whortleberries by the way. Benjamin watched her nervous motions, and felt
+that they implied a want of respect, and he grew silent and looked
+stoical. Gretchen went out to meet her, and brought her to the old chief.
+
+[Illustration: _Afar loomed Mount Hood._]
+
+It was a beautiful day, one of those long dreams of golden splendor that
+glorify the banks of the Oregon. Eccentric Victor Trevette and his Indian
+wife were at the lodge, and the company were joined by the Rev. Jason Lee,
+who had come up the Columbia in the interests of the mission in the
+Willamette Valley. Seattle[B] was there, from the Willamette, then
+young, and not yet the titular chief of Governor Stevens.[C] It was a
+company of diverse spirits--Trevette, the reputed gambler, but the true
+friend of the Indian races; Lee, who had beheld Oregon in his early
+visions, and now saw the future of the mountain-domed country in dreams;
+sharp-tongued but industrious and warm-hearted Mrs. Woods; the musical
+German girl, with memories of the Rhine; and the Indian chief and his
+family. The Columbia rolled below the tall palisades, the opposite bank
+was full of cool shadows of overhanging rocks, sunless retreats, and
+dripping cascades of glacier-water. Afar loomed Mount Hood in grandeur
+unsurpassed, if we except Tacoma, inswathed in forests and covered with
+crystal crowns. The Chinook winds were blowing coolly, coming from the
+Kuro Siwo, or placid ocean-river from Japan; odoriferous, as though
+spice-laden from the flowery isles of the Yellow Sea. Warm in winter, cool
+in summer, like the Gulf winds of Floridian shores, the good angel of the
+Puget Sea territories is the Chinook wind from far Asia, a mysterious
+country, of which the old chief and his family knew no more than of the
+blessed isles.
+
+"It is a day of the Great Manitou," said the old chief. "He lights the
+sun, and lifts his wings for a shadow, and breathes on the earth. He fills
+our hearts with peace. I am glad."
+
+"I only wish my people in the East knew how wonderful this country is,"
+said Jason Lee. "I am blamed and distrusted because I leave my mission
+work to see what great resources here await mankind. I do it only for the
+good of others--something within me impels me to do it, yet they say I
+neglect my work to become a political pioneer. As well might they censure
+Joshua."
+
+"As a missionary," said the old hunter, "you would teach the Indians
+truth; as a pioneer, you would bring colonies here to rob them of their
+lands and rights. I can respect the missionary, but not the pioneer. See
+the happiness of all these tribal families. Benjamin is right--Mrs. Woods
+has no business here."
+
+"Adventurer," said Mrs. Woods, rising upon her feet, "I am a
+working-woman--I came out here to work and improve the country, and you
+came here to live on your Injun wife. The world belongs to those who work,
+and not to the idle. It is running water that freshens the earth. Husband
+and I built our house with our own hands, and I made my garden with my own
+hands, and I have defended my property with my own hands against bears
+and Injuns, and have kept husband to work at the block-house to earn money
+for the day of trouble and helplessness that is sure some day to come to
+us all. I raise my own garden-sass and all other sass. I'm an honest
+woman, that's what I am, and have asked nothing in the world but what I
+have earned, and don't you dare to question my rights to anything I
+possess! I never had a dollar that I did not earn, and that honestly, and
+what is mine is mine."
+
+"Be careful, woman," said the hunter. "It will not be yours very long
+unless you have a different temper and tongue. There are black wings in
+the sky, and you would not be so cool if you had heard the things that
+have come to my ears."
+
+Mrs. Woods was secretly alarmed. She felt that her assumed boldness was
+insincere, and that any insincerity is weakness. She glanced up a long
+ladder of rods or poles which were hung with Potlatch masks--fearful and
+merciless visages, fit to cover the faces of crime. She had heard that
+Umatilla would never put on a mask himself, although he allowed the custom
+at the tribal dances. Mrs. Woods dropped her black eyes from the ominous
+masks to the honest face of the chief.
+
+"There," said she, lifting her arm, "there sits an honest man. He never
+covered his heart with a mask--he never covered his face with a mask. He
+has promised me protection. He has promised to protect the school. I can
+trust a man who never wears a mask. Most people wear masks--Death takes
+the masks away; when Death comes to Umatilla, he will find great Umatilla
+only, fearless and noble--honest and true, but no mask. He never wore a
+mask."
+
+"But, woman," said Umatilla, "you are wearing a mask; you are afraid."
+
+"Yes, but I can trust your word."
+
+"You seek to please me for your own good."
+
+"Yes--but, Umatilla, I can trust your word."
+
+"The word of Umatilla was never broken. Death will come to Umatilla for
+his mask, and will go away with an empty hand. I have tried to make my
+people better.--Brother Lee, you have come here to instruct me--I honor
+you. Listen to an old Indian's story. Sit down all. I have something that
+I would say to you."
+
+The company sat down and listened to the old chief. They expected that he
+would speak in a parable, and he did. He told them in Chinook the story of
+
+
+_THE WOLF BROTHER._
+
+An old Indian hunter was dying in his lodge. The barks were lifted to
+admit the air. The winds of the seas came and revived him, and he called
+his three children to him and made his last bequests.
+
+"My son," he said, "I am going out into the unknown life whence I came.
+Give yourself to those who need you most, and always be true to your
+younger brother."
+
+"My daughter," he said, "be a mother to your younger brother. Give him
+your love, or for want of it he may become lonely and as savage as the
+animals are."
+
+The two older children promised, and the father died at sunset, and went
+into the unknown life whence he came.
+
+The old Indian had lived apart from the villages of men for the sake of
+peace; but now, after his death, the oldest son sought the villages and he
+desired to live in them. "My sister," he said, "can look out for my little
+brother. I must look out for myself."
+
+But the sister tired of solitude, and longed to go to the villages. So one
+day she said to her little brother: "I am going away to find our brother
+who has taken up his abode in the villages. I will come back in a few
+moons. Stay you here."
+
+But she married in the villages, and did not return.
+
+The little brother was left all alone, and lived on roots and berries. He
+one day found a den of young wolves and fed them, and the mother-wolf
+seemed so friendly that he visited her daily. So he made the acquaintance
+of the great wolf family, and came to like them, and roam about with them,
+and he no longer was lonesome or wished for the company of men.
+
+One day the pack of wolves came near the villages, and the little boy saw
+his brother fishing and his sister weaving under a tree. He drew near
+them, and they recognized him.
+
+"Come to us, little brother," said they, sorry that they had left him to
+the animals.
+
+"No--no!" said he. "I would rather be a wolf. The wolves have been kinder
+to me than you.
+
+    "My brother,
+     My brother,
+     I am turning--
+     am turning
+     Into a wolf.
+      You made me so!
+
+    "My sister,
+     My sister,
+     I am turning--
+     I am turning
+     Into a wolf.
+      You made me so!"
+
+"O little brother, forgive me," said the sister; "forgive me!"
+
+"It is too late now. See, I _am_ a wolf!"
+
+He howled, and ran away with the pack of wolves, and they never saw him
+again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Jason Lee, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become like the
+little brother.
+
+"Victor Trevette, be good to my people when I am gone, lest they become
+like the little brother."
+
+The tall form of Marlowe Mann now appeared before the open entrance of the
+lodge. The Yankee schoolmaster had been listening to the story. The old
+chief bent his eye upon him, and said, "And, Boston tilicum, do you be
+good to Benjamin when I am gone, so that he shall not become like the
+little brother."
+
+"You may play, Gretchen, now--it is a solemn hour; the voices of the gods
+should speak."
+
+Gretchen took her violin. Standing near the door of the tent, she raised
+it to her arm, and the strains of some old German music rose in the
+glimmering air, and drifted over the Columbia.
+
+"I think that there are worlds around this," said the old chief. "The
+Great Spirit is good."
+
+The sun was going down. High in the air the wild fowls were flying, with
+the bright light yet on their wings. The glaciers of Mount Hood were
+flushed with crimson--a sea of glass mingled with fire. It was a pastoral
+scene; in it the old history of Oregon was coming to an end, after the
+mysteries of a thousand years, and the new history of civilization was
+beginning.
+
+Evening came, and the company dispersed, but the old chief and Gretchen
+sat down outside of the tent, and listened to the murmuring music of the
+Dalles of the Columbia, and breathed the vital air. The Columbia is a mile
+wide in some places, but it narrows at the Dalles, or shelves and pours
+over the stone steps the gathered force of its many tides and streams.
+Across the river a waterfall filled the air with misty beauty, and a
+castellated crag arose solitary and solemn--the remnant of some great
+upheaval in the volcanic ages.
+
+[Illustration: _A castellated crag arose solitary and solemn._]
+
+The red ashes of the sunset lingered after the fires of the long day had
+gone down, and the stars came out slowly. The old chief was sad and
+thoughtful.
+
+"Sit down by my feet, my child," he said to Gretchen, or in words of this
+meaning. "I have been thinking what it is that makes the music in the
+violin. Let us talk together, for something whispers in the leaves that my
+days are almost done."
+
+"Let me get the violin and play to you, father; we are alone."
+
+"Yes, yes; get the music, child, and you shall play, and we will talk. You
+shall sit down at my feet and play, and we will talk. Go, my little
+spirit."
+
+Gretchen brought her violin, and sat down at his feet and tuned it. She
+then drew her bow, and threw on the air a haunting strain.
+
+"Stop there, little spirit. It is beautiful. But what made it beautiful?"
+
+"My bow--don't you see?"
+
+Gretchen drew her bow, and again lifted the same haunting air.
+
+"No--no--my girl--not the bow--something behind the bow."
+
+"The strings?"
+
+"No--no--something behind the strings."
+
+"My fingers--so?"
+
+"No--no--something behind the fingers."
+
+"My head--_here_?"
+
+"No--something behind that."
+
+"My heart?"
+
+"No--no--something behind that."
+
+"I?"
+
+"Yes--you, but something behind that. I have not seen it, my girl--your
+spirit. It is that that makes the music; but there is something behind
+that. I can feel what I can not see. I am going away, girl--going away to
+the source of the stream. Then I will know everything good is
+beautiful--it is good that makes you beautiful, and the music beautiful.
+It is good that makes the river beautiful, and the stars. I am going away
+where all is beautiful. When I am gone, teach my poor people."
+
+Gretchen drew his red hand to her lips and kissed it. The chief bent low
+his plumed head and said:
+
+"That was so beautiful, my little spirit, that I am in a haste to go. One
+moon, and I will go. Play."
+
+Gretchen obeyed. When the strain died, the two sat and listened to the
+murmuring of the waters, as the river glided down the shelves, and both of
+them felt that the Spirit of Eternal Goodness with a Father's love
+watched over everything.
+
+The old chief rose, and said again:
+
+"When I am gone to my fathers, teach my poor people." He added: "The voice
+of the good spirits ask it--the All-Good asks it--I shall go away--to the
+land whence the light comes. You stay--teach. You will?"
+
+"Yes," said Gretchen--a consciousness of her true calling in life coming
+upon her, as in an open vision--"I will be their teacher."
+
+The old chief seemed satisfied, and said: "It is well; I am going away."
+
+Much of the chief's talk was acted. If he wished to speak of a star, he
+would point to it; and he would imitate a bird's call to designate a bird,
+and the gurgle of water when speaking of a running stream. He spoke
+Chinook freely, and to see him when he was speaking was to learn from his
+motions his meaning.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote B: See Historical Notes.]
+
+[Footnote C: See Historical Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+MRS. WOODS MEETS LITTLE ROLL OVER AGAIN.
+
+
+One day Rev. Jason Lee came up from the Cascades, in a boat, to visit Mr.
+and Mrs. Woods on their donation claim. Mr. Lee at this tine was inspired
+with missionary zeal for the Indians, and he remembered Mrs. Woods kindly
+as an ignorant but earnest and teachable woman, whom the influence of his
+preaching had brought to his spiritual flock. He knew her needs of counsel
+and help, he pitied her hard and lonely life, and he came to visit her
+from time to time.
+
+He had once given her a copy of Wesley's Hymns, and these hymns she had
+unconsciously learned, and delighted to quote on all occasions. Her
+favorite hymn in the collection was written by Thomas Olivers, one of
+Wesley's coadjutors, beginning--
+
+    "The God of Abrah'm praise."
+
+She used to sing it often about her work; and one approaching the cabin,
+might often have heard her trying to sing to the old Hebrew melody of
+_Leoniel_--a tune perhaps as old as the Jewish Temple itself--such sublime
+thoughts as these--
+
+    "The God of Abrah'm praise,
+       At whose supreme command
+     From earth I rise, and seek the joys
+       At his right hand;
+     I all on earth forsake,
+       Its wisdom, fame, and power;
+     And him my only portion make,
+       My shield and tower.
+
+    "He by himself hath sworn,
+       I on his oath depend;
+     I shall, on eagles' wings upborne,
+       To heaven ascend:
+     I shall behold his face,
+       I shall his power adore,
+     And sing the wonders of his grace
+       Forever more."
+
+Another favorite hymn, in an easy metre, was John Wesley's triumphant
+review of life in his middle age. The tune, although marked in the
+music-books C.P.M., and thus indicating some difficulty, was really as
+simple as it was lively, and carried the voice along like the music of a
+meadow stream:
+
+    "How happy is the pilgrim's lot,
+     How free from every anxious thought,
+       From worldly hope and fear!
+     Confined to neither court nor cell,
+     His soul disdains on earth to dwell--
+       He only sojourns here."
+
+Mrs. Woods was singing as usual about her work, when Jason Lee rapped at
+her door.
+
+"Father Lee," said Mrs. Woods, "can I trust my eyes!--come again to see
+me, away out here in the timber? Well, you are welcome. I have got
+something on my mind, and I have long been wanting to have a talk with
+you. How is the mission at the Dalles?"
+
+"It is prospering, but I regard it as my duty to leave it and go back to
+the East; and this may be my farewell visit, though I expect to come back
+again."
+
+"Why, Father Lee, what has changed your mind? You surely can not think it
+your duty to leave this great country in the Oregon! You are needed here
+if anywhere in this world."
+
+"Yes, but it is on account of this country on the Oregon being great, as
+you call it, that I must go away. It was once my calling in life to become
+a missionary to the Indians of Oregon, and to see this wonderful land. The
+same Voice that called me to that work calls me again to go back to tell
+the people of the East of their great opportunity here. I owe it to my
+country's future to do this. I have eaten the grapes of a promised land,
+and I must return to my own people with the good report. I believe that
+the best life of America will yet be here--it seems to be so revealed to
+me. My mission was to the Indians; it is now to induce colonies to come to
+the Oregon."
+
+"Well, each heart knows its own calling and duty, and none of us are led
+alike. Father Lee, Gretchen has been reprovin' me, though she shouldn't,
+perhaps, being a girl. She was sassy to me, but she meant well. She is a
+well-meanin' girl, though I have to be hard on her sometimes--it is my
+duty to be, you know.
+
+"Well, some months ago, more than a year, an Injun ran away with my best
+saw, and that gave me a prejudice against the Injuns, I suppose.
+Afterward, Young Eagle's Plume--Benjamin, the chief's boy--insulted me
+before the school by takin' a stick out of my hand, and I came to dislike
+him, and he hates me. There are many Injuns in the timber now, and they
+all cast evil looks at me whenever I meet them, and these things hint that
+they are goin' to capture me at the Potlatch and carry me away. I hate
+Injuns.
+
+"But Gretchen has told me a thing that touches my feelin's. She says that
+Benjamin he says that he will protect me on account of his love for the
+master; and that, on account of my love for the good Master of us all and
+his cause, I ought to show a different spirit toward the Injuns. What do
+you think?"
+
+"Gretchen is right, although a girl should be modest with her elders.
+Hatred only multiplies itself; when one overcomes his evil passions he
+gains others, and loses nothing. Do you see?"
+
+"But I am always good to those I like and those who treat me well. Think
+how I used to take care of the sick folk on our way out here, and what I
+have tried to do for Gretchen!"
+
+"'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?' All people love
+those who love them--the savages do. To give up one's evil desires, and to
+help others by returning love for hate, is the true life. The best friends
+in the world that we can have are those that we have drawn to our hearts
+by forgiveness. Do something good to every Indian that hates you, and you
+will never be carried away captive."
+
+"But Whitman, remember Whitman: he showed the right spirit, and the Injuns
+killed _him_!"
+
+"His death was caused by a misapprehension, and it made him a martyr. His
+work lives. Men live in their work."
+
+"Well, Father Lee, if Benjamin can overcome his evil feelin's for his
+master, I ought to do so for mine, as Gretchen says. My bad spirit in this
+matter has long troubled me; it has caused a cloud to come over me when
+singin' hymns. I will give it all up now--I will give up everything, and
+just follow the better spirit. I want to do right, so that I can sing
+hymns."
+
+When Father Lee left the cabin, Mrs. Woods accompanied him to his boat on
+the river.
+
+As they were passing along under the tall spruces whose tops glimmered in
+the sun, and whose cool shadows made the trail delightful and refreshing,
+a black she-bear suddenly rose up before them, and a cub started up by her
+side. The great bear and the little bear both stood on their haunches,
+with their fore-feet outstretched like arms, as in great surprise. Mrs.
+Woods stopped and threw up her arms, and Parson Lee drew back.
+
+Mrs. Woods looked at the little bear, and the little bear at her.
+
+"Roll over, roll over!" she suddenly exclaimed. A strange event followed,
+very strange indeed in the eyes of the startled missionary. The little
+bear rolled itself into a ball, and began to turn over and over, and to
+come toward them in its somersaults.
+
+The mother bear made a peculiar noise, dropped upon her four feet and ran
+off into the timber; and the little one, hearing the noise and movement,
+leaped up and followed her.
+
+"What _does_ that mean?" asked the missionary, in astonishment.
+
+"That is Little Roll Over. I taught him that trick myself. He was once a
+pet of mine, and he ran away."
+
+"Extraordinary!" said the missionary; "and it seems to me, if you have
+such a good influence over bears, you might do a great deal of good among
+the Indians."
+
+"And I will," said Mrs. Woods. "I mean to live so I can sing hymns, and
+feel right about it."
+
+On the return home, Mrs. Woods looked everywhere for her pet bear. She did
+not fear the old bear, for these animals are generally harmless if
+unmolested. She called, "Roll Over! Roll Over!" when she came to the place
+where she had had the adventure. But there was no answer except from the
+blue jays that piped out their shrill call in the tall trees.
+
+Mrs. Woods came home to have a long battle with herself. Her idea of
+happiness seemed to be the freedom to sing hymns with a clear conscience,
+and the poor pioneer woman's philosophy was not very far from right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+MARLOWE MANN'S NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+
+Besides the Narrative of Lewis and Clarke, which was used in the school as
+a reader, Mr. Mann made use of another book in his teaching which greatly
+delighted his pupils and often awakened their sympathies. It was called
+"John E. Jewett and Thompson." It presented a picture of life on the coast
+early in the century. The strange story was much as follows:
+
+
+_THE ROBINSON CRUSOE OF VANCOUVER._
+
+About the year 1802 the ship Boston, from Boston, Mass., went to Hull,
+England, to secure a cargo of goods to carry to the Indians on the
+Northwest coast of America to trade for furs. She was a general
+trading-vessel, such as roamed the seas of the world adventurously at that
+time, and often made fortunes for the merchants of New York, Boston, and
+other Atlantic port cities.
+
+She was commanded by Captain John Salter, a clever man and a natural
+story-teller, whose engaging pictures of travel were sure to fascinate the
+young.
+
+While in England this man met a lad by the name of John Rogers Jewett, who
+listened eagerly to his romantic adventures, and who desired to embark
+with him for America, and was allowed by his parents to make the voyage.
+The ship sailed around Cape Horn to Nootka Island, one of the islands on
+the west coast of Vancouver Island between the forty-ninth and fiftieth
+parallel. Here the whole crew, with the exception of young Jewett and a
+man by the name of Thompson, were massacred by the Indians, and the
+strange and tragic narrative of the survivors was an American and English
+wonder-tale seventy years ago. Mr. Jewett published the account of his
+capture and sufferings, under the title of "John R. Jewett and Thompson,"
+or, to copy the title of the quaint old book before me, "A Narrative of
+the Adventures and Sufferings of John R. Jewett, only Survivor of the Crew
+of the Ship Boston, during a Captivity of nearly Three Years among the
+Savages of Nootka Sound." The book was issued from London, England, and
+from Middletown, Conn. After Robinson Crusoe, perhaps no book was more
+eagerly read by our grandfathers in their boyhood than this.
+
+The Indian king of Nootka was Maquina. He used to visit the ship,
+sometimes wearing a wooden mask over his face representing some wild
+beast. Such masks are still to be found among the Indians of Vancouver.
+
+Maquina was at first very friendly to Captain Salter, but one day the
+latter offended him, and he resolved to have his revenge by killing him
+and the crew, and destroying the ship. Accordingly, one morning, after he
+had been capering on deck and blowing a rude whistle, he said to the
+captain:
+
+"When do you intend to sail?"
+
+"To-morrow," replied the captain.
+
+"You love salmon--much in Friendly Cove; go, then, and catch some," said
+the chief.
+
+The captain thought it very desirable to have a large supply of fish on
+board, so he assented to the chief's proposal, and, after dinner with the
+latter, he sent away a jolly-boat or yawl with nine men to fish in
+Friendly Cove.
+
+A series of tragedies followed. "I went down to my vise-bench in the
+steerage," says Mr. Jewett, in his Narrative, "where I was employed in
+cleaning muskets. I had not been there more than an hour, when I heard a
+great bustle and confusion on deck. I ran up the steerage stairs, but
+scarcely was my head above deck when I was caught by the hair by one of
+the savages. My hair was short, and I fell from his hold into the
+steerage. As I was falling, he struck me with an axe and cut a deep gash
+in my forehead. I remained in a state of suspense for some time, when
+Maquina himself appeared at the hatch and ordered me to come up. What a
+terrific spectacle met my eyes! Six naked savages stood in a circle around
+me, covered with the blood of my murdered comrades! I thought that my last
+moment had come, and commended my soul to my Maker.
+
+"'John,' said the chief, 'I speak--you no say no; you say no--daggers
+come. Will you become my slave and fight for me?' I answered, 'Yes.' Then
+he told me that he would spare my life.
+
+"Taking me by the hand, he led me to the quarter-deck, where the most
+horrid sight presented itself; the heads of our unfortunate captain and
+his crew, to the number of twenty-five, were arranged in a line.
+
+"Maquina then ordered me to get the ship under way for Friendly Cove. We
+were there received by the inhabitants of the village with loud shouts of
+joy and a horrible drumming of sticks upon the roofs and sides of their
+houses. Maquina took me on shore to his house."
+
+Young Jewett became a favorite of the chief's son, and was made a member
+of the tribe. He was compelled to marry an Indian princess, and his search
+for his wife is a wonderful romance, and really very poetic, as the
+marriage customs of the tribes are associated with a rustic festival
+worthy of a painter and poet. The young princess chosen was beautiful, and
+served him with the most affectionate devotion, but he could not love her,
+because he had been compelled to marry her.
+
+The most remarkable incidents of this strange narrative are associated
+with the fate of those who were engaged in the massacre of the officers
+and crew of the Boston, and which show that the experience of retribution
+is a law common to all peoples and lands.
+
+The principal chief or sub-chief among the warriors was Tootooch. He had
+married Maquina's sister. He ranked next to Maquina in all things
+pertaining to war, and he had been the foremost leader and the most
+merciless of conquerors in the destruction of the Boston. He killed two
+men on shore, presumably with his own hand.
+
+Insanity is not common among the Indians. But a terrible mania took
+possession of this ambitious warrior. "While in the enjoyment of the
+highest health," says Mr. Jewett, "he was suddenly seized with delirium,
+in which he fancied that he saw the ghosts of the two men that he had
+murdered." The avenging vision followed him wherever he went. He was
+filled with terror at all times, and at last refused to eat to sustain his
+life. The Indians forced food into his mouth.
+
+Maquina was informed of the terrible state of the warrior's mind by his
+sister, Tootooch's wife. He went to the haunted man's house, taking Mr.
+Thompson and Mr. Jewett with him. "We found him raving about the two
+murdered men, Hall and Wood," says Jewett. "Maquina placed provisions
+before him, but he would not eat."
+
+At last the distressed _tyee_, induced by hunger, put forth his hand to
+touch the food. But he suddenly drew it back, saying that Hall and Wood
+were there.
+
+"They will not let me eat," said he, with a look of despair and terror.
+
+Maquina pointed to Thompson and Jewett.
+
+"Is it they who have bewitched you?" he asked.
+
+"_Wik_ (no); John _klashish_ (is good), Thompson _klashish_ (is good)."
+
+He arose and piteously put his hand on Jewett's shoulder, and, pointing to
+the food offered him, he said, "Eat."
+
+"Eat it yourself," replied Mr. Jewett. "Hall and Wood are not there."
+
+"You can not see them," he answered; "I can. I know that you can not see
+them."
+
+"What do you do in your own country in such cases as this?" asked Maquina.
+
+"We confine the person and whip him," said Jewett.
+
+The chief ordered that the haunted warrior should be confined and whipped;
+but the pain did not relieve the warrior's mind of the terrible vision of
+the two men that he had killed. He grew more wild. He would torture his
+slaves for diversion. His wife fled from him. The vision continued until
+he became completely exhausted, and Death came with a merciful face.
+
+"Early in June," says Mr. Jewett, "Tootooch, the crazy chief, died. The
+whole village set up a loud cry. The body was laid on a plank, and the
+head bound with a red fillet. It was then wrapped in an otter-skin robe
+and placed in a large coffin, which was ornamented with rows of white
+shells. It was buried by night in a cavern."
+
+The _tyees_ or chiefs had discussed often the policy of putting Mr. Jewett
+and Mr. Thompson to death, and so end all evidence of the destruction of
+the Boston in the event of new ships appearing on the coast. But the
+spectacle of Tootooch staring at the ghosts of the men that he had killed,
+and wasting away amid days and nights of horror, made them fear that the
+other warriors engaged in the massacre would become affected in the like
+way, and deterred them from any further violence. Jewett was at last
+rescued by a trading-ship, and was taken to the Columbia River, where he
+arrived shortly after the visit of Lewis and Clarke, of the famous
+expedition that bears these names. He finally came to New England and
+settled in Middletown, Conn. His history gives a very picturesque view of
+the habits and customs of the Indians on the Northwest coast nearly a
+century ago. The book can be found in antiquarian libraries, and should be
+republished in the interest of American folk-lore. The truth of the
+incidents gives the whole narrative a vivid and intense interest; it reads
+like De Foe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+OLD JOE MEEK AND MR. SPAULDING.
+
+
+One day a man in a buckskin habit came to the door of the school-house and
+looked in upon the school. His face was that of a leader of men, hard and
+powerful; one could see that it feared nothing, and that it looked with
+contempt on whatever was artificial, affected, or insincere. His form had
+the strength and mettle of a pioneer. He rapped a loud, hard rap, and
+said, in a sturdy tone:
+
+"May I come in?"
+
+The master welcomed him cordially and courteously, and said:
+
+"This is Mr. Meek, I believe?"
+
+"Yes, old Joe Meek, the pioneer--you have heard of me."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Mr. Mann. "You have caught the spirit of Oregon--you are
+Oregon. You have made the interest of this great country your life; I
+honor you for it. I feel the same spirit coming over me. What we do here
+is done for a thousand years, for here the great life of the Anglo-Saxon
+race is destined to come. I can see it; I feel it. The morning twilight of
+time is about me. I can hear the Oregon calling--calling; to teach here is
+a glorious life; the whole of humanity is in it. I have no wish to return
+to the East again."
+
+"Stranger, give me your hand."
+
+The New England schoolmaster took the hard hand of the old pioneer, and
+the two stood there in silence.
+
+The children could not understand the great, soul-expanding sympathy that
+made these two men friends. They gazed on Mr. Meek's buckskin jacket and
+trousers with curiosity, for they were picturesque with their furs, belts,
+and weapons, and he looked like a warrior or a forest knight clad in
+armor.
+
+He wore the same buckskin suit when he appeared in Washington as the
+delegate to Congress from Oregon. It was at the time of Polk and Dallas,
+and not a person in Washington probably knew him when he made his
+appearance at the Congressional Hotel.
+
+The people at the hotel stared at him as the children did now. He went
+into the great dining-room with the other Congressmen, but alone and
+unknown. The colored waiters laughed at him as he took his seat at the
+table.
+
+The other people at the table were served, but no one came near him. At
+last he turned and faced a hurrying colored man, and, in a voice that
+silenced the room, said:
+
+"Waiter, come here!"
+
+The waiter rolled up his eyes and said, "Sir?"
+
+"Have you any big meat to-day?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Any bear?"
+
+"Any bear? bear? No, sir."
+
+"Any buffalo?"
+
+"Any buffalo--buffalo? Where did you come from? No, sir."
+
+"Well, waiter you may bring me what you have."
+
+The waiter went away with white teeth, and a smile and titter passed
+around the table. The waiter returned with the usual first course of the
+meal, and was about to hurry away, when the old pioneer took out his
+pistol and laid it down on the table, saying:
+
+"Waiter, you stand there, I may want you; and if anybody wants to know who
+I am, tell him I am Hon. Joseph Meek, the delegate of the people of
+Oregon."
+
+When it was known who Mr. Meek was, he was met by Mr. Dallas, the courtly
+Vice-President.
+
+"I will attend you to the reception this afternoon, where you will meet
+the wives of the Congressmen," said he. "I will call for you at three."
+
+The Vice-President called, and was surprised to find Mr. Meek still in his
+buckskins.
+
+"You do not intend to go in that habit to the reception?" said he.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Meek, "or else not go at all. In the first place, I have
+nothing else to wear, and what is good enough for me to wear among the
+people of Oregon is good enough for their representative here."
+
+We have given, in these two anecdotes, very nearly Mr. Meek's own words.
+
+A few days after the visit of this most extraordinary man, another visitor
+came. She was an earnest-looking woman, on an Indian pony, and there was a
+benevolence in her face and manner that drew the whole school into
+immediate sympathy with her. The lady was Mrs. Spaulding, one of the
+so-called "Brides of Oregon." Her husband had come to the Territory with
+Dr. Whitman and his bride. The long missionary journey was the bridal tour
+of Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spaulding. They were the first white women who
+crossed the Rocky Mountains. It was related of Mrs. Spaulding, who had a
+beautiful voice, and was a member of a church quartet or choir in a
+country town in New York, as a leading singer, that, just before leaving
+the place for her long horseback journey of more than two thousand miles,
+she sang in the church the hymn beginning--
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+in such an affecting manner as to silence the rest of the choir, and melt
+the congregation to tears:
+
+    "Home, thy joys are passing lovely,
+      Joys no stranger's heart can tell;
+     Happy scenes and happy country,
+      Can I bid you all farewell?
+        Can I leave thee,
+      Far in heathen lands to dwell?"
+
+This lady addressed the school, and spoke feelingly of the condition of
+the Indian race, and of the field for the teacher in the valleys of the
+Columbia.
+
+Gretchen listened to the address with open heart. There are moments of
+revelation when a knowledge of one's true calling in life comes to the
+soul. Faith as a blind but true guide vanishes, and the eye sees. Such was
+the hour to Gretchen. She had often felt, when playing on the violin, that
+the inspiration that gave such influence to her music should be used in
+teaching the tribes that were so susceptible to its influence. This
+feeling had grown in the playing and singing of a school-song, the words
+of which were written by Mrs. Hunter, an English lady, and the wife of the
+famous Dr. Hunter, which showed the heroism and fortitude of the Indian
+character:
+
+    "The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day,
+     But glory remains when the light fades away;
+     Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
+     For the son of Alknoomook will never complain."
+
+The tune or melody was admirably adapted to the violin. Benjamin loved to
+hear it sung, and Gretchen was pleased to sing and to play it.
+
+Mr. Mann asked Gretchen to play for Mrs. Spaulding, and she chose this
+simple but expressive melody. He then asked the school to sing, and he
+selected the words of
+
+    "Yes, my native land, I love thee,"
+
+to the music of Rousseau's Dream. Mrs. Spaulding could hardly keep from
+joining in the tune and hymn, then well known to all the missionary
+pioneers. At the words--
+
+    "In the desert let me labor,
+     On the mountain let me tell,"
+
+her beautiful voice rose above the school, and Gretchen's fingers trembled
+as she played the air.
+
+As the lady rode away, Gretchen felt tears coming into her eyes. The
+school was dismissed, and the pupils went away, but Gretchen lingered
+behind. She told Benjamin to go to the lodge, and that she would follow
+him after she had had a talk with the master.
+
+"That song is beautiful," said Gretchen. "'In the desert let me labor.'
+That is what I would like to do all my life. Do you suppose that I could
+become a teacher among the Indians like Mrs. Spaulding? It would make me
+perfectly happy if I could. If I were to study hard, would you help me to
+find such a place in life?"
+
+Gretchen's large eyes, filled with tears, were bent earnestly on the face
+of Mr. Mann.
+
+"Yes," he said, "and if I can inspire you only to follow me in such work,
+it will repay me for an unknown grave in the forests of the Columbia."
+
+Gretchen started; she trembled she knew not why, then buried her face in
+her arms on the rude log desk and sobbed.
+
+She raised her head at last, and went out, singing--
+
+    "In the desert let me labor."
+
+It was a glorious sundown in autumn. The burning disk of the sun hung in
+clouds of pearl like an oriel-window in a magnificent temple. Black
+shadows fell on the placid waters of the Columbia, and in the limpid air
+under the bluffs Indians fished for salmon, and ducks and grebes sported
+in river weeds.
+
+Marlowe Mann went away from the log school-house that night a happy man.
+He had seen that his plans in life were already budding. He cared little
+for himself, but only for the cause to which he devoted his life--to begin
+Christian education in the great empire of Oregon.
+
+But how unexpected this episode was, and how far from his early dreams!
+His spirit had inspired first of all this orphan girl from the Rhine, who
+had been led here by a series of strange events. This girl had learned
+faith from her father's prayers. On the Rhine she had never so much as
+heard of the Columbia--the new Rhine of the sundown seas.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A WARNING.
+
+
+One evening, as Gretchen was sitting outside of the lodge, she saw the
+figure of a woman moving cautiously about in the dim openings of the
+fir-trees. It was not the form of an Indian woman--its movement was
+mysterious. Gretchen started up and stood looking into the darkening
+shadows of the firs. Suddenly the form came out of the clearing--it was
+Mrs. Woods. She waved her hand and beckoned to Gretchen, and then drew
+back into the forest and disappeared.
+
+Gretchen went toward the openings where Mrs. Woods had so suddenly and
+strangely appeared. But no one was there. She wondered what the secret of
+the mysterious episode could be. She returned to the lodge, but said
+nothing about what she had seen. She passed a sleepless night, and
+resolved to go to see her foster-mother on the following day.
+
+So, after school the next afternoon, she returned to her old home for a
+brief visit, and to gain an explanation of the strange event of the
+evening before.
+
+She found Mrs. Woods very sad, and evidently troubled by some ominous
+experience.
+
+"So you saw me?" was her first salutation. "I didn't dare to come any
+further. They did not see me--did they?"
+
+"But, mother, why did you go away--why did you come to the lodge?"
+
+"O Gretchen, husband has been at home from the shingle-mill, and he has
+told me something dreadful!"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"There's a conspiracy!"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Among the Injuns. A friendly Injun told husband in secret that there
+would be no more seen of the log school-house after the Potlatch."
+
+"Don't fear, mother; the chief and Benjamin will protect that."
+
+"But that isn't all, Gretchen. Oh, I am so glad that you have come home!
+There are dark shadows around us everywhere. I can feel 'em--can't you?
+The atmosphere is all full of dark faces and evil thoughts. I can't bear
+to sleep alone here now. Gretchen, there's a plot to capture the
+schoolmaster."
+
+"Don't fear, mother. I know Umatilla--he will never permit it."
+
+"But, Gretchen, the Injun told husband something awful."
+
+"What?"
+
+"That the schoolmaster would one day perish as Dr. Whitman did. Dr.
+Whitman was stricken down by the Injun whom he regarded as his best
+friend, and he never knew who dealt the blow. He went out of life like one
+smitten by lightning. O Gretchen!"
+
+"But, mother, I do not fear. The Indians thought that Dr. Whitman was a
+conjurer. We make people true, the master says, by putting confidence in
+them. I believe in the old chief and in Benjamin, and there will no evil
+ever come to the schoolmaster or the log school-house."
+
+"Gretchen, are you sure? Then I did not bring you away out here for
+nothing, did I? You may be the angel of deliverance of us all. Who knows?
+But, Gretchen, I haven't told you all yet."
+
+Mrs. Woods's face clouded again.
+
+"The Injun told husband that some of the warriors had formed a plot
+against _me_, and that, if they were to capture me, they would torture me.
+Gretchen, I am afraid. Don't you pity me?"
+
+"Mother, I know my power over the chief and Benjamin, and I know the power
+of a chief's sense of honor. I do pity you, you are so distressed. But,
+mother, no evil will ever come to you where I am, nor the school where I
+am. I am going to be a teacher among these Indians, if I live; I feel this
+calling, and my work will somehow begin here."
+
+"A teacher among the Injuns! You? You a teacher? Are anvils going to fly?
+Here I am, a poor lone woman, away out here three thousand miles from
+home, and tremblin' all over, at every sound that I hear at night, for
+fear I shall be attacked by Injuns, and you are dreamin', with your head
+all full of poetry, of goin' away and leavin' me, the best friend that you
+ever had on the earth, as good as a mother to you; of goin' away--of
+leavin' me, to teach a lot of savages! Gretchen, I knew that the world was
+full of empty heads, but I never realized how empty the human heart is
+until now! Been a mother to you, too!"
+
+"O mother, I never thought of leavin' you unless you wished it."
+
+"What did you think was goin' to become of me? I never kissed any child
+but you, and sometimes, when you are real good, I feel just as though I
+was your mother."
+
+"I thought that you would help me."
+
+"Help you, what doin'?"
+
+"To teach the Indians."
+
+"To teach the Injuns--Indians you call 'em! I'd like to teach one Injun to
+bring back my saw! I never tried to teach but one Injun--and he was _him_.
+You can't make an eagle run around a door-yard like a goose, and you can't
+teach an Injun to saw wood--the first thing you know, the saw will be
+missin'.--But how I am runnin' on! I do have a good deal of prejudice
+against the savages; nevertheless--"
+
+"I knew, mother, that you would say 'nevertheless.' It seems to me that
+word is your good spirit. I wish you would tell me what thought came to
+your mind when you said that word."
+
+"'Nevertheless?'"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, the Master--"
+
+"He said--"
+
+"Yes--preach the gospel to every creature! I suppose that meant Injuns and
+all."
+
+"Yes--he said '_teach_'--so the schoolmaster explained it."
+
+"Did he? Well, I ought to obey it in spirit--hadn't I?--or at least not
+hinder others. I might help you teach it if I could get into the right
+spirit. But what put that thought into your head?"
+
+"Mrs. Spaulding, the missionary, has been to visit the school. She sang so
+beautifully! These were the words:
+
+    "'In the desert let me labor,
+      On the mountain let me tell.'
+
+"When she sung that, it all came to me--what I was--what I was sent into
+the world to do--what was the cause of your loving me and bringing me out
+here--I saw a plan in it all. Then, too, it came to me that you would at
+first not see the calling as I do, but that you would say _nevertheless_,
+and help me, and that we would work together, and do some good in the
+world, you and I. Oh! I saw it all."
+
+"Gretchen, did you see all that? Do you think that the spirit has eyes,
+and that they see true? But how could I begin? The Injuns all hate me."
+
+"Make them love you."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Say _nevertheless_ to them."
+
+"Well, Gretchen, you are a good girl, and I am sorry for the hard things
+that I have said. I do not feel that I have shown just the right spirit
+toward Benjamin. But he has said that he will not do me any harm, for the
+sake of his master, and I am willin' to give up my will for my Master. It
+is those that give up their desires that have their desires in this world,
+and anybody who does an injury to another makes for himself a judgment-day
+of some sort. You may tell Benjamin that I am real sorry for bein' hard to
+him, and that, if he will come over and see me, I'll give him a carved
+pipe that husband made. Now, Gretchen, you may go, and I'll sit down and
+think a spell. I'll be dreadful lonely when you're gone."
+
+Gretchen kissed her foster-mother at the door, and said:
+
+"Your new spirit, mother, will make us both so happy in the future! We'll
+work together. What the master teaches me, I'll teach you."
+
+"What--books?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"O Gretchen, your heart is real good! But see here--my hair is gray. Oh, I
+am sorry--what a woman I might have been!"
+
+Gretchen lay down in the lodge that night beside the dusky wife of the
+old chief. The folds of the tent were open, and the cool winds came in
+from the Columbia, under the dim light of the moon and stars.
+
+The _tepee_, or tent, was made of skins, and was adorned with
+picture-writing--Indian poetry (if so it might be called). Overhead were
+clusters of beautiful feathers and wings of birds. The old chief loved to
+tell her stories of these strange and beautiful wings. There were the
+wings of the condor, of the bald and the golden eagle, of the duck-hawk,
+pigeon-hawk, squirrel-hawk, of the sap-sucker, of the eider duck, and a
+Zenaider-like dove. Higher up were long wings of swans and albatrosses,
+heads of horned owls, and beaks of the laughing goose. Through the still
+air, from some dusky shallow of the river came the metallic calls of the
+river birds, like the trumpeting swan. The girl lay waking, happy in
+recalling the spirit with which her foster-mother had accepted her plan of
+life.
+
+Suddenly her sensitive spirit became aware of something unusual and
+strange at the opening of the tent. There was a soft, light step without,
+a guarded footfall. Then a tall, dark shadow distinctly appeared, with a
+glitter of mother-of-pearl ornaments and a waving of plumes. It stood
+there like a ghost of a vivid fancy, for a time. Gretchen's heart beat. It
+was not an unusual thing for an Indian to come to the _tepee_ late in the
+evening; but there was something mysterious and ominous in the bearing and
+atmosphere of this shadowy visitor. The form stepped within the opening of
+the tent, and a voice whispered, "Umatilla, awake!"
+
+The old chief raised himself on his elbow with an "Ugh!"
+
+"Come out under the moon."
+
+The old chief arose and went out, and the two shadowy forms disappeared
+among a column of spruces on the musical banks of the Columbia.
+
+Gretchen could not sleep. The two Indians returned late, and, as they
+parted, Gretchen heard Umatilla's deep voice say, "No!"
+
+Her fears or instincts told her that the interview had reference to plots
+which were associated with the great Potlatch, now near at hand. She had
+heard the strange visitor say, "The moon is growing," and there was
+something shadowy in the very tone in which the words were spoken.
+
+Mrs. Woods sat down in her home of bark and splints all alone after
+Gretchen's departure.
+
+"She offers to teach me," she said to herself. "I am so sorry that I was
+not able to teach her. I never read much, any way, until I came under the
+influence of the Methody. I might have taught her spiritual things--any
+one can have spiritual knowledge, and that is the highest of all. But I
+have loved my own will, and to give vent to my temper and tongue. I will
+change it all. There are times when I am my better self. I will only talk
+and decide upon what is best in life at such times as these. That would
+make my better nature grow. When I am out of sorts I will be silent-like.
+Heaven help me! it is hard to begin all these things when one's hair is
+turnin' gray, and I never knew any one's gray hair to turn young again."
+
+She sat in the twilight crying over herself, and at last sang the mournful
+minor measures of a very quaint old hymn with a peculiar old history:
+
+    "From whence doth this union arise
+      That hatred is conquered by love?
+     It fastens our souls in such ties
+      As distance and time can't remove."
+
+The October moon came up larger and larger night by night. It stood on the
+verge of the horizon now in the late afternoon, as if to see the
+resplendent setting of the sun. One wandered along the cool roads at the
+parting of day between the red sun in the west and the golden moon in the
+east, and felt in the light of the two worlds the melancholy change in the
+atmospheres of the year. The old volcanoes glistened, for a wintry crust
+was widening over their long-dead ovens. Mount Saint Helens, as the far
+range which led up to the relic of the ancient lava-floods that is now
+known by that name was called by the settlers, was wonderfully beautiful
+in the twilights of the sun and moon. Mount Hood was a celestial glory,
+and the shadows of the year softened the glimmering glories of the
+Columbia. The boatman's call echoed long and far, and the crack of the
+flint-lock gun leaped in its reverberations from hill to hill as though
+the air was a succession of hollow chambers. Water-fowl filled the streams
+and drifted through the air, and the forests seemed filled with young and
+beautiful animals full of happy life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE POTLATCH.
+
+
+A potlatch among the tribes of the Northwest means a feast at which some
+wealthy Indian gives away to his own people or to a friendly tribe all
+that he has. For this generosity he becomes a councilor or wise man, or
+judge, an attendant on the chief in public affairs, and is held in
+especial honor during the rest of his life.
+
+To attain this honor of chief man or councilor, many an ambitious young
+Indian labors for years to amass wampum, blankets, and canoes. The feast
+at which he exchanges these for political honors is very dramatic and
+picturesque. It is usually held at the time of the full moon, and lasts
+for several days and nights. One of the principal features is the
+_Tamanous_, or Spirit-dance, which takes place at night amid blazing
+torches and deafening drums.
+
+A chief rarely gives a Potlatch; he has no need of honors. But Umatilla
+desired to close his long and beneficent chieftainship with a gift-feast.
+He loved his people, and there seemed to him something noble in giving
+away all his private possessions to them, and trusting the care of his old
+age to their hearts. His chief men had done this, and had gained by it an
+influence which neither power nor riches can attain. This supreme
+influence over the hearts of his people he desired to possess. The
+gift-feast was held to be the noblest service that an Indian could render
+his race.
+
+At the great Potlatch he would not only give away his private goods, but
+would take leave of the chieftainship which he had held for half a
+century. It was his cherished desire to see Benjamin made chief. His heart
+had gone into the young heart of the boy, and he longed to see The Light
+of the Eagle's Plume, sitting in his place amid the councilors of the
+nation and so beginning a new history of the ancient people.
+
+[Illustration: _At the Cascades of the Columbia_.]
+
+The full moon of October is a night sun in the empires of the Columbia and
+the Puget Sea. No nights in the world can be more clear, lustrous, and
+splendid than those of the mellowing autumn in the valleys of Mount Saint
+Helens, Mount Hood, and the Columbia. The moon rises over the crystal
+peaks and domes like a living glory, and mounts the deep sky amid the pale
+stars like a royal torch-bearer of the sun. The Columbia is a rolling
+flood of silver, and the gigantic trees of the centuries become a ghostly
+and shadowy splendor. There is a deep and reverent silence everywhere,
+save the cry of the water-fowl in the high air and the plash of the
+Cascades. Even the Chinook winds cease to blow, and the pine-tops to
+murmur.
+
+It was such a night that the Potlatch began. On an open plateau
+overlooking the Columbia the old chief had caused a large platform to be
+built, and on this were piled all his canoes, his stores of blankets, his
+wampum, and his regal ornaments and implements of war. Around the plateau
+were high heaps of pine-boughs to be lighted during the Spirit-dance so as
+to roll a dark cloud of smoke under the bright light of the high moon, and
+cause a weird and dusky atmosphere.
+
+The sun set; the shadows of night began to fall, but the plateau was
+silent. Not a human form was to be seen anywhere, not even on the river.
+Stars came out like lamps set in celestial windows, and sprinkled their
+rays on the crimson curtains of the evening.
+
+The glaciers on Mount Hood began to kindle as with silver fires. The east
+seemed like a lifting gate of light. The great moon was rising.
+
+Hark! At the first ray of the moon there are heard low, mysterious sounds
+everywhere. The forests are full of them--calls, like the coyote's bark,
+or bird-calls, or secret signals. They are human voices. They answer each
+other. There are thousands of voices calling and answering.
+
+The full moon now hangs low over the forests, golden as the morning sun in
+the mists of the calm sea. There is a piercing cry and a roll of
+war-drums, and suddenly the edges of the forest are full of leaping and
+dancing forms. The plateau is alive as with an army. Pipes play, shells
+rattle, and drums roll, and the fantastic forms with grotesque motions
+pass and repass each other.
+
+Up the Columbia comes a fleet of canoes like a cloud passing over the
+silvery ripples. The river is all alive with human forms, and airy paddles
+and the prows of tilting boats.
+
+The plateau swarms. It is covered with waving blankets and dancing plumes.
+All is gayety and mirth.
+
+There is another roll of drums, and then silence.
+
+The circling blankets and plumes become motionless. The chief of the
+Cascades is coming, and with him is Benjamin and his young bride, and
+Gretchen.
+
+The royal party mount the platform, and in honor of the event the
+torch-dance begins. A single torch flashes upon the air; another is
+lighted from it, another and another. A hundred are lighted--a thousand.
+They begin to dance and to whirl; the plateau is a dazzling scene of
+circling fire. Gretchen recalled the old _fetes_ amid the vineyards of the
+Rhine in her childhood.
+
+Hither and thither the circles move--round and round. There is poetry in
+this fire-motion; and the great army of fire-dancers become excited under
+it, and prepared for the frenzy of the Spirit-dance that is to follow.
+
+The torches go out. The moon turns the smoke into wannish clouds of white
+and yellow, which slowly rise, break, and disappear.
+
+There is another roll of drums. Wild cries are heard in the forests. The
+"biters" are beginning their hunt.
+
+Who are the biters? They are Indians in hides of bears and wolves, who run
+on their hands and feet, uttering terrible cries, and are followed by
+women, who, to make the scene more fearful, pretend to hold them back, and
+restrain them from violence. The Spirit-dance is held to be a sacred
+frenzy, and before it begins the biters are charged to hunt the woods for
+any who have not joined the army of dancers, and, if such are found, to
+bite them and tear their flesh with their teeth. They also guard the dance
+like sentinels, and fly at one who attempts to leave it before it is done.
+
+The frenzied shrieks of these human animals, and of the women who follow
+them, produce a wonderful nervous effect upon the listening multitudes.
+All feel that they are about to enter into the ecstatic spiritual
+condition of departed souls, and are to be joined by the shades of the
+dead heroes and warriors of tradition and story.
+
+Each dancer has a masque. It may be an owl's head with mother-of-pearl
+eyes, or a wooden pelican's beak, or a wolf's head. It may be a wooden
+animal's face, which can be pulled apart by a string, and reveal under it
+an effigy of a human face, the first masque changing into great ears. The
+museum at Ottawa, Canada, contains a great number of such masques, and
+some missionaries in the Northwest make curious collections of them.
+
+The whirling begins. Everywhere are whirling circles--round and round they
+go. The sight of it all would make a spectator dizzy. Cries arise, each
+more and more fearful; the whole multitude are at last shrieking with
+dizzy heads and wildly beating pulses. The cries become deafening; an
+almost superhuman frenzy passes over all; they seem to be no longer
+mortal--the armies of the dead are believed to be about them; they think
+that they are reveling in the joys of the heroes' paradise. One by one
+they drop down, until the whole assembly is exhausted.
+
+At midnight the great fires are kindled, and throw their lights and
+shadows over the frenzied sleepers. Such was the _Tamanous_-dance, and so
+ended the first night of the feast.
+
+On the second night the old chief gave away his private possessions, and
+on the third the wedding ceremony was performed.
+
+The wild and inhuman Death-dance, which the tribe demanded, was expected
+to end the festival at the going down of the shadowy moon. Could it be
+prevented after the traditions of unknown centuries, and at a time when
+the historical pride of the warriors was awakened to celebrate the
+barbarous deeds of their ancestors?
+
+The wedding was simple. It consisted chiefly in gifts to the bride,
+Multoona. The girl was fantastically dressed, with ornaments of shells and
+feathers, and she followed the young prince demurely. After the ceremony
+of the bridal gifts came the Fire-fly dance, in which light-torches
+gleamed out in vanishing spirals here and there, and over all the plain.
+Then followed the _Tamanous_ or Spirit dance, in which a peculiar kind of
+frenzy is excited, as has been described. The excitement was somewhat less
+than usual this night, on account of the great orgies which were expected
+to follow.
+
+The third and great night of the Potlatch came. It was the night of the
+full October moon. The sun had no sooner gone down in the crimson
+cloud-seas among the mountains, than the moon, like another sun, broad and
+glorious, lifted its arch in the distant blue of the serene horizon.
+
+The Indians gathered on the glimmering plain in the early shadows of
+evening, besmeared with yellow ochre and war-paint. Every head was plumed.
+There was a savagery in their looks that had not been seen before.
+
+The wild dancers began their motions. The Spirit or _Tamanous_ dance
+awakened a frenzy, and all were now impatient for the dance of the Evil
+Spirits to begin.
+
+The moon hung low over the plateau and the river. The fires were kindled,
+and the smoke presently gave a clouded gold color to the air.
+
+The biters were out, running hither and thither after their manner, and
+filling the air with hideous cries.
+
+All was expectation, when the old chief of the Cascades stepped upon the
+platform, and said:
+
+"Listen, my children--listen, O sons of the warriors of old. Twice four
+times sixty seasons, according to the notch-sticks, have the wings of wild
+geese cleaved the sky, and all these years I have lived in peace. My last
+moon has arisen--I have seen the smile of the Great Spirit, and I know
+that the last moon hangs over my head.
+
+"Warriors, listen! You have always obeyed me. Obey me once more. Dance not
+the dance of the Evil Spirits to-night. Let me die in peace. Let not blood
+stain my last days. I want you to remember the days of Umatilla as the
+days of corn and maize and the pipes of peace. I have given you all I
+have--my days are done. You will respect me."
+
+There were mutterings everywhere, suppressed cries of rage, and sharp
+words of chagrin and disappointment. The old chief saw the general
+dissatisfaction, and felt it like a crushing weight upon his soul.
+
+"I am going to light the pipe of peace," said he, "and smoke it now before
+you. As many of you as love Umatilla, light the pipes of peace."
+
+Not a light glimmered in the smoky air. There were words of hate and
+suppressed cries everywhere. A circle was forming, it widened, and it
+seemed as though the dreaded dance was about to begin in spite of the
+command of the old chief.
+
+Suddenly a form in white stood beside Umatilla. It was Gretchen. A white
+arm was raised, and the martial strain of the "Wild Hunt of Lutzow"
+marched out like invisible horsemen, and caused every Indian to listen.
+Then there were a few sharp, discordant strains, and then the _Traumerei_
+lifted its spirit-wings of music on the air.
+
+[Music: Tranmerei.
+
+BY ROBERT SCHUMANN, SIMPLIFIED BY F. BRANDEIS.]
+
+[Music]
+
+[Music]
+
+The murmurs ceased. The plain grew still. "Romance" followed, and then the
+haunting strain of the _Traumerei_ rose again. It ceased. Lights began to
+glimmer here and there. Peace-pipes were being lighted.
+
+"You have saved your people," said Umatilla. "Play it again."
+
+Again and again the dream-music drifted out on the air. The plain was now
+filled with peace-pipes. When the last blended tones died away, the whole
+tribe were seated on the long plateau, and every old warrior was smoking a
+pipe of peace.
+
+Gretchen saw that her spirit, through the violin, had calmed the sea. She
+was sure now that she had rightly read her mission in life. Amid the scene
+of glimmering peace-pipes, a heavenly presence seemed near her. She had
+broken the traditions of centuries by the sympathetic thrill of four
+simple strings. She felt that Von Weber was there in spirit, and Schumann.
+She felt that her father's soul was near her; but, more than all, she felt
+that she was doing the work of the Great Commission. She bowed her head on
+the instrument, thought of poor, terrorized Mrs. Woods in her lonely home,
+and wept.
+
+A seen and unseen world had come to her--real life. She saw her power;
+the gates of that mysterious kingdom, in which the reborn soul is a new
+creation, had been opened to her. Her spirit seemed to rise as on
+new-created wings, and the world to sink beneath her. She had spiritual
+sight, ears, and senses--a new consciousness of Divine happiness. Her
+purpose became strong to live for the soul alone, and she sung, over and
+over again, amid the silence of the peace-pipes and the rising of those
+puffs of smoke in the silver illumination of the high moon--
+
+    "In the deserts let me labor,
+      On the mountains let me tell."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN.
+
+
+An hour passed in this mysterious and strange tranquillity--the noon hour
+of night. The warriors seemed contented and satisfied. Many of them were
+old; some of them remembered the coming of the first ships to the
+Columbia, and a few of them the long visit of Vancouver. They knew the
+wisdom of Umatilla, and seemed proud that his will had been so readily
+obeyed.
+
+But not so with the biters. They were young, and they had plotted on this
+night to begin hostilities against the settlers. Their plan had been to
+burn the log school-house and the house of the Woodses, and to make a
+captive of Mrs. Woods, whose hostile spirit they wished to break and
+punish. Soon after the quiet scene at midnight they began to be restless.
+Their cries arose here and there about the margin of the plateau and along
+the river.
+
+The old chief knew their feelings, and saw the stormy ripples here and
+there. He arose slowly, and called:
+
+"My people, draw near."
+
+The tribe gathered about the platform. The young braves knew what the old
+chief was about to say, and their cries of discontent grew loud and
+multiplied.
+
+"The log school-house!" shrieked one, in a voice of rage.
+
+"_Pil-pil!_" cried another. "_Pil-pil!_" echoed many voices. A tumult
+followed, and Gretchen started up from her reverie, and heard among the
+restless murmurs the name of Mrs. Woods.
+
+She felt a nervous terror for a moment, but her spiritual sense and faith,
+which had come to her like a new-born life, returned to her.
+
+She arose on the platform and took her violin, and looked down upon the
+sea of dusky faces in the smoky moonlight. She drew her bow. The music
+quivered. There was a lull in the excited voices. She played low, and
+there followed a silence.
+
+The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face and
+stood beside her.
+
+"Play the beautiful air." She played the _Traumerei_ again.
+
+The chief arose, as the last strain died away, and said:
+
+"My people, listen."
+
+The plateau was silent. The Columbia could be heard flowing. The trees
+seemed listening. Benjamin came upon the platform, reeling, and seemed
+about to speak to his father, but the old chief did not heed.
+
+"My people, listen," repeated the chief.
+
+A wild shriek of pain rent the air, and Benjamin dropped at the feet of
+his father. It was his voice that uttered the cry of agony and despair as
+he fell.
+
+What had happened?
+
+The boy lay on the platform as one dead. The old chief bent over him and
+laid his hand on his face. He started back as he did so, for the face was
+cold. But the boy's eyes pitifully followed every movement of his father.
+Gretchen sunk down beside the body, and drew her hand across his forehead
+and asked for water. Benjamin knew her.
+
+Soon his voice came again. He looked wistfully toward Gretchen and said:
+
+"I shall never go to find the Black Eagle's nest again. It is the plague.
+My poor father!--my poor father!"
+
+"Send for the medicine-man," said the chief. "Quick!"
+
+Hopping-Bear, the old medicine-man, came, a dreadful figure in eagle's
+plumes and bear-skins. To affect the imagination of the people when he was
+going to visit the sick, he had been accustomed to walk upon his two hands
+and one foot, with the other foot moving up and down in the air. He
+believed that sickness was caused by obsession, or the influence of some
+evil spirit, and he endeavored, by howlings, jumpings, and rattling of
+snake-skins, to drive this imaginary spirit away. But he did not begin his
+incantations here; he looked upon Benjamin with staring eyes, and cried
+out:
+
+"It is the plague!"
+
+The old chief of the Cascades lifted his helpless face to the sky.
+
+"The stars are gone out!" he said. "I care for nothing more."
+
+The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after the
+convulsions, then consciousness would return. In one of these moments of
+consciousness he asked of Gretchen:
+
+"Where is Boston tilicum?"
+
+"He is not here--he does not know that you are sick."
+
+"Run for him; tell him I can't go to the Missouri with him. I can't find
+the Black Eagle's nest. Run!"
+
+His mind was dreaming and wandering.
+
+Gretchen sent a runner to bring the schoolmaster to the dreadful scene.
+
+A convulsion passed over the boy, but he revived again.
+
+"Have faith in Heaven," said Gretchen. "There is One above that will save
+you."
+
+"One above that will save me! Are you sure?"
+
+"Yes," said Gretchen.
+
+She added:
+
+"Mother is sorry for what she said to you."
+
+"I am sorry," said the boy, pathetically.
+
+He was lost again in spasms of pain. When he revived, Marlowe Mann had
+come. The boy lifted his eyes to his beloved teacher vacantly; then the
+light of intelligence came back to them, and he knew him.
+
+"I can't go," he said. "We shall never go to the lakes of the honks
+together. Boston tilicum, I am going to die; I am going away like my
+brothers--where?"
+
+It was near the gray light of the morning, and a flock of wild geese were
+heard trumpeting in the air. The boy heard the sound, and started.
+
+"Boston tilicum!"
+
+"What can I do for you?"
+
+"Boston tilicum, listen. Do you hear? What taught the honks where to go?"
+
+"The Great Father of all."
+
+"He leads them?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He will lead me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And teach me when I am gone away. I can trust him. But my father--my
+father! Boston tilicum, he loves me, and he is old."
+
+Flock after flock of wild geese flew overhead in the dim light. The boy
+lay and listened. He seemed to have learned a lesson of faith from the
+instincts of these migratory birds. He once turned to the master and said,
+almost in Gretchen's words:
+
+"There is One above that will save me."
+
+As the morning drew nearer, the air seemed filled with a long procession
+of Canadian geese going toward the sea. The air rang with their calls. The
+poor boy seemed to think that somehow they were calling to him.
+
+There was silence at last in the air, and he turned toward Gretchen his
+strangely quiet face, and said, "Play."
+
+Gretchen raised her bow. As she did so a sharp spasm came over him. He
+lifted his hand and tried to feel of one of the feathers from the Black
+Eagle's nest. He was evidently wandering to the Falls of the Missouri. His
+hand fell. He passed into a stertorous sleep, and lay there, watched by
+the old chief and the silent tribe.
+
+Just as the light of early morn was flaming through the tall, cool, dewy
+trees, the breathing became labored, and ceased.
+
+There he lay in the rising sun, silent and dead, with the helpless chief
+standing statue-like above him, and the tribe, motionless as a picture,
+circled around him, and with Gretchen at his feet.
+
+"Make way!" said the old chief, in a deep voice.
+
+He stepped down from the platform, and walked in a kingly manner, yet with
+tottering steps, toward the forest. Gretchen followed him. He heard her
+step, but did not look around.
+
+"White girl, go back," he said; "I want to be alone."
+
+He entered the forest slowly and disappeared.
+
+Just at night he was seen coming out of the forest again. He spoke to but
+a single warrior, and only said:
+
+"Bury him as the white men bury; open the blanket of the earth; and
+command the tribe to be there--to-morrow at sundown. Take them all away--I
+will watch. Where is the white girl?"
+
+"She has gone home," said the Indian.
+
+"Then I will watch alone. Take them all away--I want to be alone. It is
+the last night of the chief of the Umatillas. It is the last watch of the
+stars. My blood is cold, my heart beats slow--it will not be long!"
+
+The chief sat all night by the body. In the morning he went to his lodge,
+and the tribe made the preparations for the funeral, and opened a grave in
+the earth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A SILENT TRIBE.
+
+
+It was sunset on the bluffs and valleys of the Columbia. Through the tall,
+dark pines and firs the red west glowed like the lights in an oriel or
+mullioned window. The air was voiceless. The Columbia rolled silently in
+the shadows with a shimmering of crimson on its deep middle tides. The
+long, brown boats of the salmon-fishers sat motionless on the tide. Among
+the craft of the fishermen glided a long, airy canoe, with swift paddles.
+It contained an old Umatilla Indian, his daughter, and a young warrior.
+The party were going to the young chief's funeral.
+
+[Illustration: _Multnomah Falls._]
+
+As the canoe glided on amid the still fishermen of other tribes, the
+Indian maiden began to sing. It was a strange song, of immortality, and of
+spiritual horizons beyond the visible life. The Umatillas have poetic
+minds. To them white Tacoma with her gushing streams means a mother's
+breast, and the streams themselves, like the Falls of the distant
+Shoshone, were "falling splendors."
+
+She sang in Chinook, and the burden of her song was that horizons will
+lift forever in the unknown future. The Chinook word _tamala_ means
+"to-morrow"; and to-morrow, to the Indian mind, was eternal life.
+
+The young warrior joined in the refrain, and the old Indian listened. The
+thought of the song was something as follows:
+
+    "Aha! it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow--
+       Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;
+     Lift thine eye to the mount; to the wave give thy sorrow;
+     The river is bright, and the rivulets flow;
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+               Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "Happy boat, it is ever to-morrow, to-morrow--
+       Tamala, whisper the waves as they flow;
+     The crags of the sunset the smiles of light borrow,
+       And soft from the ocean the Chinook winds blow:
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+               Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "Aha! the night comes, but the light is to-morrow--
+       Tamala, tamala, sing as we go;
+     The waves ripple past, like the heart-beats of sorrow,
+      And the oar beats the wave to our song as we row:
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go--
+              Tamala! tamala!
+
+    "For ever and ever horizons are lifting--
+      Tamala, tamala, sing as we row;
+     And life toward the stars of the ocean is drifting,
+      Through death will the morrow all endlessly glow--
+           Tamala, tamala,
+           Ever and ever;
+     The morrows will come and the morrows will go,
+                        Tamala! tamala!"
+
+The paddle dipped in the wave at the word _tamala_, and lifted high to
+mark the measure of the song, and strew in the warm, soft air the watery
+jewels colored by the far fires of the Sound. So the boat swept on, like a
+spirit bark, and the beautiful word of immortality was echoed from the
+darkening bluffs and the primitive pine cathedrals.
+
+The place where the grave had been made was on the borders of the Oregon
+desert, a wild, open region, walled with tremendous forests, and spreading
+out in the red sunset like a sea. It had a scanty vegetation, but a slight
+rain would sometimes change it into a billowy plain of flowers.
+
+The tribe had begun to assemble about the grave early in the long
+afternoon. They came one by one, solitary and silent, wrapped in blankets
+and ornamented with gray plumes. The warriors came in the same solitary
+way and met in silence, and stood in a long row like an army of shadows.
+Squaws came, leading children by the hand, and seated themselves on the
+soft earth in the same stoical silence that had marked the bearing of the
+braves.
+
+A circle of lofty firs, some three hundred feet high, threw a slanting
+shadow over the open grave, the tops gleaming with sunset fire.
+
+Afar, Mount Hood, the dead volcano, lifted its roof of glaciers twelve
+thousand feet high. Silver ice and black carbon it was now, although in
+the long ages gone it had had a history written in flame and smoke and
+thunder. Tradition says that it sometimes, even now, rumbles and flashes
+forth in the darkness of night, then sinks into rest again, under its
+lonely ice palaces so splendid in the sunset, so weird under the moon.
+
+Just as the red disk of the sun sunk down behind this stupendous scenery,
+a low, guttural sound was uttered by Potlatch Hero, an old Indian brave,
+and it passed along the line of the shadowy braves. No one moved, but all
+eyes were turned toward the lodge of the old Umatilla chief.
+
+He was coming--slowly, with measured step; naked, except the decent
+covering of a blanket and a heroic ornament of eagle-plumes, and all
+alone.
+
+The whole tribe had now gathered, and a thousand dusky forms awaited him
+in the sunset.
+
+There was another guttural sound. Another remarkable life-picture came
+into view. It was the school in a silent procession, following the tall
+masks, out of the forest trail on to the glimmering plain, the advent of
+that new civilization before which the forest lords, once the poetic bands
+of the old Umatillas, were to disappear. Over all a solitary eagle beat
+the luminous air, and flocks of wild geese made their way, like V-letters,
+toward the Puget Sea.
+
+The school soon joined the dusky company, and the pupils stood with
+uncovered heads around their Yankee pedagogue. But the old chief came
+slowly. After each few steps he would stop, fold his arms, and seem lost
+in contemplation. These pauses were longer as he drew near the silent
+company.
+
+Except the honks of the pilots of the flocks of wild geese, there was a
+dead silence everywhere. Only eyes moved, and then furtively, toward the
+advancing chief.
+
+[Illustration: _The old chief stood stoical and silent._]
+
+He reached the grave at last by these slow movements, and stepped upon the
+earth that had been thrown out of it, and folded his arms in view of
+all. A golden star, like a lamp in the windows of heaven, hung over Mount
+Hood in the fading splendors of the twilight, and the great chief bent his
+eye upon it.
+
+Suddenly the air was rent by a wail, and a rattle of shells and drums. The
+body of Benjamin was being brought out of the lodge. It was borne on a
+bier made of poles, and covered with boughs of pine and fir and red
+mountain phlox. It was wrapped in a blanket, and strewn with odorous
+ferns. Four young braves bore it, besmeared with war-paint. They were
+followed by musicians, who beat their drums, and rattled shell instruments
+at irregular times, as they advanced. They came to the grave, lifted the
+body on its blanket from the bier of evergreens and flowers, and slowly
+lowered it. The old chief stood stoical and silent, his eye fixed on the
+star in the darkening shadows.
+
+The face of Benjamin was noble and beautiful in its death-sleep. Over it
+were two black eagle's plumes. The deep black hair lay loosely about the
+high, bronze forehead; there was an expression of benevolence in the
+compressed lips, and the helpless hands seemed like a picture as they lay
+crossed on each other.
+
+As soon as the body was laid in the earth, the old chief bent his face on
+the people. The mysterious dimness of death was in his features. His eyes
+gleamed, and his bronze lips were turning pale.
+
+"My nation, listen; 'tis my last voice. I am a Umatilla. In my youth the
+birds in the free lakes of the air were not more free. I spoke, and you
+obeyed. I have but one more command to give. Will you obey me?
+
+"You bow, and I am glad.
+
+"Listen!
+
+"My fathers were men of war. They rolled the battle-drums. I taught my
+warriors to play the pipes of peace, and sixty years have they played them
+under the great moons of the maize-fields. We were happy. I was happy.
+
+"I had seven sons. The white man's plague came; the shadow fell on six of
+them, and they went away with the storm-birds. They entered the new canoe,
+and sailed beyond us on the sea of life. They came back no more at the
+sunrisings and sun settings, at the leaf-gatherings of the spring, or the
+leaf-fallings of the autumn. They are beyond.
+
+"One son was left me--Benjamin. He was no common youth; the high spirits
+were with him, and he came to be like them, and he has gone to them now. I
+loved him. He was my eyes; he was my ears; he was my heart. When I saw his
+eyes in death, my eyes were dead; when he could hear me call his name no
+longer, my ears lost their hearing; when his young heart ceased to beat,
+my own heart was dead. All that I am lies in that grave, beside my dead
+boy.
+
+"My nation, you have always obeyed me. I have but one more command to
+make. Will you obey me?
+
+"You bow again. My life-blood is growing cold. I am about to go down into
+that grave.
+
+"One step! The clouds fly and darken, and you will see them return again,
+but not I.
+
+"Two steps! Farewell, sun and light of day. I shall see thee again, but
+not as now.
+
+"Three steps! Downward to the grave I descend to meet thee, my own dear
+boy. Adieu, my people. Adieu, hearts of faith. Farewell, ye birds of the
+air, ye mighty forests, ye sun of night, and ye marches of stars. I am
+dying.
+
+"Two steps more I will take. There he lies before me in the unfolded
+earth, the life of my life, the heart of my heart.
+
+"You have promised to obey me. I repeat it--you have promised to obey me.
+You have always done so. You must do so now. My hands are cold, my feet
+are cold, and my heart beats very slow. Three steps more, and I shall lay
+myself on the body of my boy. Hear, then, my last command; you have
+promised to obey it like brave men.
+
+"When I have taken my last three steps of life, and laid down beside the
+uncovered bed of earth beside my boy, fill up the grave forever; my breath
+will be gone; Umatilla will be no more. You must obey.
+
+"One step--look! There is fire on the mountain under the curtains of the
+night. Look, the peak flashes; it is on fire.--O Spirit of All, I come!
+One step more! Farewell, earth. Warriors, fill the grave! The black
+eagle's plumes will now rest forever."
+
+There was deep silence, broken only by the sobs of the little school. A
+warrior moved and passed round the grave, and uttered the word "Dead!" The
+braves followed him, and the whole tribe like shadows. "Dead!" "Dead!"
+passed from mouth to mouth. Then a warrior threw a handful of earth into
+the grave of the father and son. The braves followed his example, then all
+the tribe.
+
+As they were so doing, like phantoms in the dim light, Mount Saint
+Helens[D] blazed again--one volcanic flash, then another; then all was
+darkness, and the moon arose in a broad sea of light like a spectral sun.
+
+The grave was filled at last. Then they brought the Cayuse pony of
+Benjamin toward the grave, and a young brave raised the hatchet to kill
+it, that it might bear the dead boy into the unknown land.
+
+There was a cry! It came from Gretchen. The girl rushed forward and stood
+before the hatchet. The pony seemed to know her, and he put his head over
+her shoulder.
+
+"Spare him!" she said. "Benjamin gave him to me--the soul of Benjamin
+would wish it so."
+
+"Let the girl have her way," said the old warriors.
+
+The moon now moved free in the dark-blue sky, and sky, forest, and plain
+were a silver sea. The Indians began to move away like shadows, one by
+one, silent and slow. Gretchen was the last to go. She followed the
+school, leading the pony, her soul filled with that consciousness of a new
+life that had so wonderfully come to her. Her way in life now seemed
+clear: she must teach the Umatillas.
+
+She left the pony in a grassy clearing, on the trail that led to her home,
+and hurried toward the cabin to describe all the events of the day to her
+foster-mother.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote D: See Notes.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+A DESOLATE HOME AND A DESOLATE PEOPLE.
+
+
+As Gretchen was hurrying home on the evening after these exciting scenes,
+she met Mrs. Woods in the trail, and she saw at a glance that her
+foster-mother was in great distress.
+
+"O Gretchen," she said, "I am so glad that you have come--you are all that
+is left to me now! I am all alone in the world! Have you heard it,
+Gretchen?"
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"Husband is drowned!"
+
+Mrs. Woods seized the arm of the girl, and the two helpless women hurried
+toward their rude home, each to relate to the other a scene of distress,
+and each to wonder what the wide future had in store for them.
+
+They held each other by the hand, and talked in the open door of the
+cabin. Then they went in and ate a simple meal of milk and berries, and
+lay down and slept the sleep of sorrow.
+
+At the early light they awoke. Almost the first words that Gretchen spoke
+were: "Let us face life and be fearless. I have faith. My father had
+faith, and my mother lived by faith. It was faith that led them across the
+sea. Their faith seemed to be unfulfilled, but it will be fulfilled in me.
+I feel it. Mother, let trouble pass. We belong to the family of God."
+
+"You are a comfort to me, Gretchen. I can not see my way--it is covered."
+
+"But you can trust your Guide, mother, and the end of trust _is_ peace."
+
+"What are we to do, Gretchen?"
+
+"I will go to Walla Walla and seek the advice of Mrs. Spaulding."
+
+"Gretchen, don't you think that the schoolmaster is a good man?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure that he is."
+
+"I am. Let us go to him and follow his advice. We will go together."
+
+They agreed to make the visit on the following day in the morning, before
+school.
+
+Gretchen told her foster-mother the story of the Indian pony.
+
+"Where is he now?" asked Mrs. Woods.
+
+"I left him in the clearing. I will go and find him."
+
+"I will go with you," said Mrs. Woods.
+
+The two went out together. They came to the clearing--a place of waving
+grass, surrounded with gigantic trees, in whose tops were great nests of
+birds. The pony was not there.
+
+"He has gone to the next clearing," said Gretchen.
+
+They passed through a strip of wood to another clearing. But the pony was
+not there.
+
+As they were returning, a little black animal crossed their path.
+
+Mrs. Woods said, "Hold!" then called out in a kindly voice, "Roll over."
+The little animal rolled head over heels in a very comical way, then ran
+quickly into the thick bushes. It was the last time that Mrs. Woods ever
+saw little Roll Over, and Gretchen never saw the pony again. The latter
+probably found a herd of horses and wandered away with them. It was a time
+of such confusion and distress that the matter did not awaken the interest
+of the Indians at that time.
+
+That evening they talked of plans for the future.
+
+"Let us seek work in one of the missionary stations," said Gretchen, "or
+let us find a home among the Indians themselves. I want to become a
+teacher among them, and I know that they would treat you well."
+
+Mrs. Woods's views on these matters were changing, but something of her
+old distrust and prejudice remained despite her good resolutions.
+
+"Foxes and geese were never made to hold conference meetings together. You
+can't make one man out of another if you try."
+
+"But, mother, your English ancestors once wandered about in sheep-skins,
+and worshiped the oaks; the whole English race, and the German race, were
+made what they are by teachers--teachers who gave themselves to a cause
+almost two thousand years ago."
+
+"Yes, I suppose that is so. But, Gretchen, I want your heart; I never
+thought that you would give it to the Injuns. I ought not to be so ruled
+by my affections; but, if I do scold you, there is something in you that
+draws my heart toward you all the time. I believe in helping others;
+something good in the future always comes of it. If men would be good to
+each other, Heaven would be good to the world. It is the things done here
+in this world that are out of order, and I never was on very good terms
+with myself even, not to say much of the world. But you have helped me,
+Gretchen, and hymns have helped me. I want you to be charitable toward my
+feelins', Gretchen, when I grow old, and I pray that you will always be
+true to me."
+
+"I shall always be true to you, whatever I may be called to do. I shall
+not leave you until you give your consent. One day you will wish me to do
+as I have planned--I feel it within me; something is leading me, and our
+hearts will soon be one in my plan of life."
+
+"It may be so, Gretchen. I have had a hard time, goin' out to service when
+I was a girl. My only happy days were during the old Methody preaching of
+Jason Lee. I thought I owned the heavens then. It was then I married, and
+I said to husband: 'Here we must always be slaves, and life will be master
+of us; let us go West, and own a free farm, and be masters of life.' There
+is a great deal in being master of life. Well, we have had a hard time,
+but husband has been good to me, and you have made me happy, if I have
+scolded. Gretchen, some people kiss each other by scoldin'; I do--I scold
+to make the world better. I suppose everything is for the best, after
+all. There is no experience in life that does not teach us something, and
+there is a better world beyond that awaits all who desire a better life.
+Our desires are better than ourselves--mine are. Good desires are prayers,
+and I think that they will all be answered some day."
+
+She sat in silence, thinking of her lonely situation, of her ignorance and
+imperfection, of her often baffled struggles to do well in this world and
+to overcome her poor, weak self, and she burst into tears.
+
+"Play," she said. "Music is a kind of prayer." And Gretchen touched the
+musical glasses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE LIFTED CLOUD--THE INDIANS COME TO THE SCHOOLMASTER.
+
+
+The next day witnessed a strange scene at the log school-house on the
+Columbia. It was a red October morning. Mrs. Woods accompanied Gretchen to
+the school, as she wished to have a talk with Mr. Mann.
+
+As the two came in sight of the house, Mrs. Woods caught Gretchen by the
+arm and said:
+
+"What's _them_?"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Sittin' in the school-yard."
+
+"They are Indians."
+
+"Injuns? What are they there for?"
+
+"I don't know, mother."
+
+"Come for advice, like me, may be."
+
+"Perhaps they are come to school. The old chief told them that I would
+teach them."
+
+"You?"
+
+"They have no father now."
+
+"No father?"
+
+"No chief."
+
+Mrs. Woods had been so overwhelmed with her own grief that she had given
+little thought to the death of Benjamin and the chief of the Cascades. The
+unhappy condition of the little tribe now came to her as in a picture;
+and, as she saw before her some fifty Indians seated on the ground, her
+good heart came back to her, and she said, touched by a sense of her own
+widowhood, "Gretchen, I pity 'em."
+
+Mrs. Woods was right. These Indians had come to seek the advice of Mr.
+Mann in regard to their tribal affairs. Gretchen also was right. They had
+come to ask Mr. Mann to teach their nation.
+
+It was an unexpected assembly that Marlowe Mann faced as he came down the
+clearing, but it revealed to him, at a glance, his future work in life.
+
+The first of the distressed people to meet him was Mrs. Woods.
+
+"O Mr. Mann, I am all alone in the world, and what am I goin' to do?
+There's nothin' but hard days' work left to me now, and--hymns. Even
+Father Lee has gone, and I have no one to advise me. You will be a friend
+to me, won't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Mann. "I need you, and the way is clear."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have a letter from Boston."
+
+"What is it, Marlowe Mann?"
+
+"The Indian Educational Society have promised me a thousand dollars for my
+work another year. I must have a house. I would want you to take charge of
+it. _But_--your tongue?"
+
+"O Master Mann, I'll give up my tongue! I'll just work, and be still. If
+an Injun will give up his revenge, an' it's his natur', ought not I to
+give up my tongue? When I can't help scoldin' I'll just sing hymns."
+
+Mr. Mann gazed into the faces of the Indians. The warm sunlight fell upon
+them. There was a long silence, broken only by the scream of the eagles in
+the sky and the passing of flocks of wild geese. Then one of the Indians
+rose and said:
+
+"Umatilla has gone to his fathers.
+
+"Benjamin has gone to his fathers. We shall never see Young Eagle's plume
+again!
+
+"Boston tilicum, be our chief. We have come to school."
+
+Mr. Mann turned to Gretchen. Her young face was lovely that morning with
+sympathy. He said in a low voice:
+
+"You see _our_ work in life. Do you understand? Will you accept it?"
+
+She understood his heart.
+
+"I will do whatever you say."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In 1859 a great Indian Reservation was established in what is known in
+Oregon as the Inland Empire of the Northwest. It contained about two
+hundred and seventy thousand acres, agricultural land and timber-land. The
+beautiful Umatilla River flows through it. The agency now is near
+Pendleton, Oregon. Thither the Umatillas were removed.
+
+Marlowe Mann went there, and Gretchen as his young wife, and in their home
+Mrs. Woods for many years could have been heard singing hymns.
+
+Their home stood for the Indian race, and the schoolmaster and his wife
+devoted themselves to the cause of Indian education. Through the silent
+influence of Mr. Mann's correspondence with the East, Indian civilization
+was promoted, and the way prepared for the peaceful settlement of the
+great Northwest.
+
+Gretchen taught the Indians as long as she lived. Often at evening, when
+the day's work had been hard, she would take her violin, and a dream of
+music would float upon the air. She played but one tune at last as she
+grew serenely old. That tune recalled her early German home, the Rhine,
+her good father and mother, and the scenes of the great Indian Potlatch on
+the Columbia. It was the _Traumerei_.
+
+Her poetic imagination, which had been suppressed by her foster-mother in
+her girlhood, came back to her in her new home, and it was her delight to
+express in verse the inspirations of her life amid these new scenes, and
+to publish these poems in the papers of the East that most sympathized
+with the cause of Indian education.
+
+The memory of Benjamin and the old chief of the Cascades never left her.
+It was a never-to-be-forgotten lesson of the nobility of all men whose
+souls have the birthright of heaven. Often, when the wild geese were
+flying overhead in the evening, she would recall Benjamin, and say, "He
+who guides led me here from the Rhine, and schooled me for my work in the
+log school-house on the Columbia."
+
+Such is not an overdrawn picture of the early pioneers of the Columbia and
+the great Northwest.
+
+Jason Lee was censured for leaving his mission for the sake of Oregon--for
+turning his face from the stars to the sun. Whitman, when he appeared
+ragged at Washington, was blamed for having left his post. The early
+pioneers of the great Northwest civilization lie in neglected graves. We
+are now beginning to see the hand of Providence, and to realize how great
+was the work that these people did for their own country and for the
+world.
+
+And Marlowe Mann--whose name stands for the Christian schoolmaster--no one
+knows where he sleeps now; perhaps no one, surely but a few. He saw his
+college-mates rise to honor and fame. They offered him positions, but he
+knew his place in the world.
+
+When his hair was turning gray, there came to him an offer of an
+opportunity for wealth, from his remaining relatives. At the same time the
+agency offered him the use of a farm. He accepted the latter for his
+work's sake, and returned to his old friends a loving letter and an old
+poem, and with the latter we will leave this picture of old times on the
+Oregon:
+
+    "Happy the man whose wish and care
+      A few paternal acres bound;
+     Content to breathe his native air
+      On his own ground.
+
+    "Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
+      Whose flocks supply him with attire;
+     Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
+      In winter, fire.
+
+    "Sound sleep by night, study and ease,
+      Together mixed sweet recreation;
+     And innocence, which most doth please,
+      With meditation.
+
+    "Blessed who can unconcernedly find
+      Hours, days, and years glide soft away,
+     In health of body, peace of mind;
+      Quiet by day.
+
+    "Thus let me live unseen, unknown;
+      Thus unlamented let me die;
+     Steal from the world, and not a stone
+      Tell where I lie."
+
+
+
+
+HISTORICAL NOTES.
+
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+VANCOUVER.
+
+
+The remarkable progress of the Pacific port cities of Seattle and Tacoma
+make Washington an especially bright, new star on the national flag.
+Surrounded as these cities are with some of the grandest and most poetic
+scenery in the United States, with gigantic forests and rich farm-lands,
+with mountains of ores, with coal-mines, iron-mines, copper-mines, and
+mines of the more precious treasures; washed as they are by the water of
+noble harbors, and smiled upon by skies of almost continuous April
+weather--there must be a great future before the cities of Puget Sound.
+
+The State of Washington is one of the youngest in the Union, and yet she
+is not too young to celebrate soon the one-hundredth anniversary of
+several interesting events.
+
+It was on the 15th of December, 1790, that Captain George Vancouver
+received his commission as commander of his Majesty's sloop of war the
+Discovery. Three of his officers were Peter Puget, Joseph Baker, and
+Joseph Whidby, whose names now live in Puget Sound--Mount Baker, and
+Whidby Island.
+
+The great island of British Columbia, and its energetic port city,
+received the name of Vancouver himself, and Vancouver named most of the
+places on Puget Sound in honor of his personal friends. He must have had a
+heart formed for friendship, thus to have immortalized those whom he
+esteemed and loved. It is the discovery and the naming of mountains,
+islands, and ports of the Puget Sound that suggest poetic and patriotic
+celebrations.
+
+The old journals of Vancouver lie before us. In these we read:
+
+"From this direction, round by the north and northwest, the high, distant
+land formed, like detached islands, among which the lofty mountains
+discovered in the afternoon by the third lieutenant, and in compliment to
+him called by me Mount Baker, rose to a very conspicuous object."
+
+It was on Monday, April 30, 1792, that Mount Baker was thus discovered
+and named. In May, 1792, Vancouver states that he came to a "very safe"
+and "capatious" harbor, and that "to this port I gave the name of Port
+Townshend, in honor of the noble marquis of that name."
+
+Again, on Thursday, May 29, 1792, Vancouver discovered another excellent
+port, and says:
+
+"This harbor, after the gentleman who discovered it, obtained the name of
+Port Orchard."
+
+In May, 1792, he makes the following very important historical note:
+
+"Thus by our joint efforts we had completely explored every turning of
+this extensive inlet; and, to commemorate Mr. Puget's exertions, the
+fourth extremity of it I named Puget Sound."
+
+A very interesting officer seems to have been this lieutenant, Peter
+Puget, whose soundings gave the name to the American Mediterranean. Once,
+after the firing of muskets to overawe hostile Indians, who merely pouted
+out their lips, and uttered, "Poo hoo! poo hoo!" he ordered the discharge
+of a heavy gun, and was amused to note the silence that followed. It was
+in April and May, 1792, that Puget explored the violet waters of the great
+inland sea, a work which he seems to have done with the enthusiasm of a
+romancer as well as of a naval officer.
+
+Mount Hood was named for Lord Hood, and Mount Saint Helens was named in
+1792, in the month of October, "in honor of his Britannic Majesty's
+ambassador at the court of Madrid." But one of the most interesting of all
+of Vancouver's notes is the following:
+
+"The weather was serene and pleasant, and the country continued to exhibit
+the same luxuriant appearance. At its northern extremity Mount Baker bore
+compass; the round, snowy mountain, now forming its southern extremity,
+after my friend Rear-Admiral Ranier, I distinguished by the name of Mount
+Ranier, May, 1792." This mountain is now Mount Tacoma.
+
+The spring of 1892 ought to be historically very interesting to the State
+of Washington, and it is likely to be so.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+THE OREGON TRAIL.
+
+
+"There is the East. There lies the road to India."
+
+Such was Senator Thomas H. Benton's view of the coast and harbors of
+Oregon. He saw the advantage of securing to the United States the
+Columbia River and its great basin, and the Puget Sea; and he made himself
+the champion of Oregon and Washington.
+
+In Thomas Jefferson's administration far-seeing people began to talk of a
+road across the continent, and a port on the Pacific. The St. Louis
+fur-traders had been making a way to the Rockies for years, and in 1810
+John Jacob Astor sent a ship around Cape Horn, to establish a post for the
+fur-trade on the Pacific Coast, and also sent an expedition of some sixty
+persons from St. Louis, overland, by the way of the Missouri and
+Yellowstone, to the Columbia River. The pioneer ship was called the
+Tonquin. She arrived at the mouth of the Columbia before the overland
+expedition. These traders came together at last, and founded Astoria, on
+the Columbia.
+
+Ships now began to sail for Astoria, and the trading-post flourished in
+the beautiful climate and amid the majestic scenery. But the English
+claimed the country. In June, 1812, war broke out with England, and
+Astoria became threatened with capture by the English. It was decided by
+Astor's agent to abandon the post; but Astoria had taught the United
+States the value of Oregon.
+
+The Oregon trail from St. Louis, by the way of the great rivers, the
+Missouri, the Yellowstone, and the Columbia, followed the fall of Astoria,
+and began the highway of emigration to the Pacific coast and to Asia. Over
+it the trapper and the missionary began to go. The Methodist missionaries,
+under the leadership of Revs. Jason and Daniel Lee, were among the first
+in the field, and laid the foundations of the early cities of Oregon. One
+of their stations was at the Dalles of the Columbia. In 1835 the great
+missionary, Marcus Whitman, of the Congregationalist Board, established
+the mission at Walla Walla. Yet up to the year 1841, just fifty years ago,
+only about one hundred and fifty Americans, in all, had permanently
+settled in Oregon and Washington.
+
+Senator Benton desired the survey of a route to Oregon, to aid emigration
+to the Columbia basin. He engaged for this service a young, handsome,
+gallant, and chivalrous officer, Lieutenant John C. Fremont, who, with
+Nicollet, a French naturalist, had been surveying the upper Mississippi,
+and opening emigration to Minnesota.
+
+Fremont espoused not only the cause of Oregon, but also Senator Benton's
+young daughter Jessie, who later rendered great personal services to her
+husband's expedition in the Northwest.
+
+Kit Carson was the guide of this famous expedition. The South Pass was
+explored, and the flag planted on what is now known as Fremont's Peak, and
+the country was found to be not the Great American Desert of the maps, but
+a land of wonderful beauty and fertility. In 1843 Fremont made a second
+expedition; this time from the South Pass to the Columbia country. After
+he was well on his way, the War Department recalled him; but Mrs. Fremont
+suppressed the order, in the interest of the expedition, until it was too
+late to reach him.
+
+Fremont went by the way of Salt Lake, struck the Oregon trail, and finally
+came to the mission that Dr. Whitman had founded among the Nez-Perces
+(pierced noses) at Walla Walla. This mission then consisted of a single
+adobe house.
+
+The British claimants of the territory, finding that American immigration
+was increasing, began to bring settlers from the Red River of the North. A
+struggle now began to determine which country should possess this vast and
+most important territory. When Dr. Whitman learned of the new efforts of
+the English to settle the country, and the danger of losing Oregon by
+treaties pending at Washington, he started for St. Louis, by the way of
+Santa Fe. This ride, often called "Whitman's Ride for Oregon," is one of
+the poetical events of American history. He went to Washington, was
+treated cavalierly by the State Department, but secured a delay of the
+treaties, which proved the means of saving Oregon and Washington to the
+United States.
+
+So his missionary efforts gave to our country an empire that seems
+destined to become ultimate America, and a power in the Asian world.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+GOVERNOR STEVENS.
+
+
+In the long line of brave American soldiers, General Isaac Ingalls Stevens
+deserves a noble rank in the march of history. He was born at Andover,
+Mass., and was educated at West Point, where he was graduated from the
+Military Academy in 1839 with the highest honors. He was on the military
+staff of General Scott in Mexico, and held other honorable positions in
+the Government service in his early life.
+
+But the great period of his life was his survey of the Northern route to
+the Pacific, since largely followed by the Northern Pacific Railroad, and
+his development of Washington Territory as a pioneer Governor. He saw the
+road to China by the way of the Puget Sea, and realized that Washington
+stood for the East of the Eastern Continent and the Western. He seems to
+have felt that here the flag would achieve her greatest destiny, and he
+entered upon his work like a knight who faced the future and not the past.
+His survey of the Northern Pacific route led the march of steam to the
+Puget Sea, and the great steamers have carried it forward to Japan, China,
+and India.
+
+His first message to the Legislature at Olympia (1854) was a map of the
+future and a prophecy. It was a call for roads, schools, a university, and
+immigration. The seal of Washington was made to bear the Indian word
+_Alke_--"by and by"--or "in the future." It also was a prophecy.
+
+He created the counties of Sawanish, Whatcom, Clallam, Chehalis, Cowlitz,
+Wahkiakum, Skamania, and Walla Walla. Olympia was fixed upon as the seat
+of government, and measures were taken by the Government for the
+regulation of the Indian tribes.
+
+Stevens was the military leader of the Indian war. He reduced the tribes
+to submission, and secured a permanent peace. He was elected to Congress
+as a Territorial delegate in 1857, and sought at Washington as earnestly
+as on the Puget Sea the interests of the rising State.
+
+He was a man of great intellect, of a forceful and magnetic presence--a
+man born to lead in great emergencies. He carried New England ideas and
+traditions to the Pacific, and established them there for all time to
+come, creating there a greater New England which should gather to its
+harbors the commerce of the world.
+
+Governor Stevens was a conservative in politics, but when the news of the
+fall of Sumter thrilled the country, he said to the people of Olympia, "I
+conceive it my duty to stop disunion." He went to Washington and entered
+the Union service.
+
+He fell like a hero at Chantilly, and under the flag which he had taken
+from his color-bearer, who had received a mortal wound. His was a splendid
+career that the nation should honor. We recently saw his sword and
+historic pictures at the home of his widow and son at Dorchester, Mass.,
+and were impressed with these relics of a spirit that had done so much for
+the progress of the country and mankind.
+
+The State of Washington is his monument, and progressive thought his
+eulogy. His great mind and energy brought order out of chaos, and set the
+flag in whose folds he died forever under the gleaming dome of the
+Colossus of American mountains and over the celestial blue of the Pacific
+harbors of the Puget Sea.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+SEATTLE THE CHIEF.
+
+
+Seattle was a Dwamish chief, and a true friend of the white race, whom he
+seemed to follow on account of their superior intelligence. He gave the
+name to an early settlement, which is now a great city, and which seems
+destined to become one of the important port cities of the world; for when
+in 1852, some forty years ago, the pioneers of Alke Point left the town
+which they had laid out and called New York, and removed to the other side
+of the bay, they named the place Seattle, from the friendly chief, instead
+of New York. Alke means _by and by_ and Seattle is likely to become the
+New York of the Pacific, and one of the great ports for Asiatic trade.
+With the immense agricultural and mineral resources with which it is
+surrounded, with its inexhaustible stores of timber, its sublime scenery
+and delightful climate, with its direct and natural water-road to Japan
+and China, and its opportunity of manufacturing for the Asiatic market the
+kind of goods that England has to carry to the same markets over an
+adventurous course of three times the distance, with the great demand for
+grain among the rice-eating countries of the East--the mind can not map
+the possibilities of this port city for the next hundred years or more.
+The prophecy of its enterprising citizens, that it will one day be one of
+the great cities in the world, is not unlikely to be realized; and it is
+interesting to ask what was the history of the chief who gave the name to
+this new Troy of the Puget Sea.
+
+He was at this time somewhat advanced in life, a portly man, of benevolent
+face, recalling the picture of Senator Benton, of Missouri, whom he was
+said to resemble. He was the chief of the Dwamishes, a small tribe
+inhabiting the territory around what is now Elliott Bay. He became a
+friend of Dr. Maynard, one of the pioneers of the new town, and of General
+Stevens, the great Territorial Governor. He was well known to Foster,
+Denny, Bell, and Borden, who took claims where the city now stands. His
+last years were passed at Port Madison, where he died in 1866, at a great
+age.
+
+Governor Stevens confirmed his sachemship, and Seattle became the
+protector and the good genius of the town. A curious legend, which seems
+to be well founded, is related of a tax which Seattle levied upon the new
+town, for the sake of the trouble that the name would give him in the
+spiritual world. When a Dwamish Indian lost a near relative of the same
+name by death, he changed his own name, because the name might attract the
+ghost of the deceased, and so cause him to be haunted. The tribe believed
+that departed spirits loved their old habitations, and the associations of
+their names and deeds, and so they changed their names and places on the
+death of relatives, that they might not be disturbed by ghostly
+apparitions.
+
+"Why do you ask for a tax?" asked a pioneer of Seattle.
+
+"The name of the town will call me back after I am dead, and make me
+unhappy. I want my pay for what I shall suffer then, now."
+
+I hope that the rapid growth of the great city of the North does not
+disquiet the gentle and benevolent soul of Seattle. The city should raise
+a monument to him, that he may see that he is kindly remembered when he
+comes back to visit the associations of his name and life. Or, better for
+his shade, the city should kindly care for his daughter, poor old Angeline
+Seattle, who at the time of this writing (1890) is a beggar in the streets
+of uplifting commercial palaces and lovely homes!
+
+We visited her in her hut outside of the city some months ago, to ask her
+if she saved Seattle in 1855, by giving information to the pioneers that
+the woods around it were full of lurking Indians, bent on a plot to
+destroy it; for there is a legend that on that shadowy December night,
+when Seattle was in peril, and the council of Indian warriors met and
+resolved to destroy the town before morning, Jim, a friendly Indian, was
+present at the conference as a spy. He found means to warn the pioneers of
+their immediate danger.
+
+The ship of war Decatur, under Captain Gansevoort, lay in the harbor. Jim,
+who had acted in the Indian council, secretly, in the interest of the
+town, had advised the chiefs to defer the attack until early in the
+morning, when the officers of the Decatur would be off their guard.
+
+[Illustration: _Middle block-house at the Cascades._]
+
+Night fell on the Puget Sea. The people went into the block-house to
+sleep, and the men of the Decatur guarded the town, taking their stations
+on shore. As the night deepened, a thousand hostile Indians crept up to
+the place and awaited the morning, when the guard should go on board the
+ship for breakfast, and the people should come out of the block-house and
+go to their houses, and "set the gun behind the door."
+
+It was on this night, according to the legend, that "Old Angeline," as she
+is now called, became the messenger that saved the inhabitants from
+destruction.
+
+The legend has been doubted; and when we asked the short, flat-faced old
+woman, as she answered our knock, if she was the daughter of the chief who
+saved Seattle, she simply said, "Chief," grinned, and made a bow. She was
+ready to accept the traditional honors of the wild legend worthy of the
+pen of a Cooper.
+
+On returning from our visit to old Angeline, we asked Hon. Henry Yesler,
+the now rich pioneer, why the princess was not better cared for by the
+people of the city. He himself had been generous to her. "Why," he said,
+"if you were to give her fifty dollars, she would give it all away before
+night!" Benevolent old Angeline! She ought to live in a palace instead of
+a hovel! Mr. Yesler doubted the local legend, but I still wished to
+believe it to be true.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+The story of "Whitman's Ride for Oregon" has been told in verse by the
+writer of this volume, as follows:
+
+WHITMAN'S RIDE FOR OREGON.
+
+I.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won!"
+      And who four thousand miles will ride
+      And climb to heaven the Great Divide,
+    And find the way to Washington,
+      Through mountain canons, winter snows,
+      O'er streams where free the north wind blows?
+    Who, who will ride from Walla-Walla,
+      Four thousand miles, for Oregon?
+
+II.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won?
+      In youth to man I gave my all,
+      And naught is yonder mountain wall;
+    If but the will of Heaven be done,
+    It is not mine to live or die,
+      Or count the mountains low or high,
+      Or count the miles from Walla-Walla.
+    I, I will ride for Oregon!"
+      'Twas thus that Whitman made reply.
+
+III.
+
+    "An empire to be lost or won?
+      Bring me my Cayuse pony, then,
+      And I will thread old ways again,
+     Beneath the gray skies' crystal sun.
+     'Twas on those altars of the air
+      I raised the flag, and saw below
+      The measureless Columbia flow;
+     The Bible oped, and bowed in prayer,
+      And gave myself to God anew,
+     And felt my spirit newly born;
+      And to my mission I'll be true,
+     And from the vale of Walla-Walla
+      I'll ride again for Oregon.
+
+IV.
+
+    "I'm not my own; myself I've given,
+      To bear to savage hordes the Word;
+     If on the altars of the heaven
+      I'm called to die, it is the Lord.
+     The herald may not wait or choose,
+      'Tis his the summons to obey;
+     To do his best, or gain or lose,
+      To seek the Guide and not the way.
+     He must not miss the cross, and I
+      Have ceased to think of life or death;
+    My ark I've builded--heaven is nigh,
+      And earth is but a morning's breath!
+     Go, then, my Cayuse pony bring;
+      The hopes that seek myself are gone,
+     And from the vale of Walla-Walla
+      I'll ride again for Oregon."
+
+V.
+
+    He disappeared, as not his own,
+      He heard the warning ice winds sigh;
+    The smoky sun-flames o'er him shone,
+      On whitened altars of the sky,
+    As up the mountain-sides he rose;
+      The wandering eagle round him wheeled,
+    The partridge fled, the gentle roes,
+      And oft his Cayuse pony reeled
+    Upon some dizzy crag, and gazed
+      Down cloudy chasms, falling storms,
+    While higher yet the peaks upraised
+      Against the winds their giant forms.
+    On, on and on, past Idaho,
+      On past the mighty Saline sea,
+    His covering at night the snow,
+      His only sentinel a tree.
+    On, past Portneuf's basaltic heights,
+      On where the San Juan Mountains lay,
+    Through sunless days and starless nights,
+      Toward Taos and far Sante Fe.
+    O'er table-lands of sleet and hail,
+      Through pine-roofed gorges, canons cold,
+    Now fording streams incased in mail
+      Of ice, like Alpine knights of old,
+    Still on, and on, forgetful on,
+      Till far behind lay Walla-Walla,
+    And far the fields of Oregon.
+
+VI.
+
+     The winter deepened, sharper grew
+      The hail and sleet, the frost and snow;
+     Not e'en the eagle o'er him new,
+      And scarce the partridge's wing below.
+     The land became a long white sea,
+      And then a deep with scarce a coast;
+     The stars refused their light, till he
+      Was in the wildering mazes lost.
+     He dropped rein, his stiffened hand
+      Was like a statue's hand of clay!
+    "My trusty beast, 'tis the command;
+      Go on, I leave to thee the way.
+     I must go on, I must go on,
+      Whatever lot may fall to me,
+     On, 'tis for others' sake I ride--
+      For others I may never see,
+     And dare thy clouds, O Great Divide,
+      Not for myself, O Walla-Walla,
+     Not for myself, O Washington,
+     But for thy future, Oregon."
+
+VII.
+
+    And on and on the dumb beast pressed
+      Uncertain, and without a guide,
+    And found the mountain's curves of rest
+      And sheltered ways of the Divide.
+    His feet grew firm, he found the way
+      With storm-beat limbs and frozen breath,
+    As keen his instincts to obey
+      As was his master's eye of faith--
+    Still on and on, still on and on,
+      And far and far grew Walla-Walla,
+    And far the fields of Oregon.
+
+VIII.
+
+     That spring, a man with frozen feet
+      Came to the marble halls of state,
+     And told his mission but to meet
+      The chill of scorn, the scoff of hate.
+    "Is Oregon worth saving?" asked
+      The treaty-makers from the coast;
+     And him the Church with questions tasked,
+      And said, "Why did you leave your post?"
+    Was it for this that he had braved
+      The warring storms of mount and sky?
+    Yes!--yet that empire he had saved,
+      And to his post went back to die--
+    Went back to die for others' sake,
+      Went back to die from Washington,
+    Went back to die for Walla-Walla,
+      For Idaho and Oregon.
+
+IX.
+
+    At fair Walla-Walla one may see
+     The city of the Western North,
+    And near it graves unmarked there be
+      That cover souls of royal worth;
+    The flag waves o'er them in the sky
+      Beneath whose stars are cities born,
+    And round them mountain-castled lie
+      The hundred states of Oregon.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+MOUNT SAINT HELENS.
+
+
+We refer to the snowy range to the west, which terminates in the great
+dome that now bears that name. There was once a great lava-flood in the
+Northwest, and Mount Hood, Mount Adams, Mount Saint Helens, and Mount
+Tacoma (Rainier) are but great ash-heaps that were left by the stupendous
+event.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE
+COLUMBIA***
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