In due time we arrived in the Willamette Valley. Over three months elapsed before I received a copy of The Free Press containing my letter. By a strange perversion the printer had changed the word "cayuse" into "hans." This explained a mystery. Quite a number of letters directed to the chief of the "Hans" Indians, care of the superintendent of Indian affairs for Oregon, had been received by him. No one knowing anything about the Hans Indians. These letters were afterwards published in the Oregon papers. I will give from memory a synopsis of two of them. The first was written by a Michigan man, and he was endorsed by Lewis Cass, Henry Ward Beecher and many other noted persons. It was a plain, straight-forward letter and unconditionally accepted the chieftain's offer. He desired to be speedily notified, in order that he might come on to accept his patrimony and open his agricultural school. The other letter was written by a Virginian. He was endorsed by the Senators of that State and by most of its Representatives in Congress. A daguerreotype accompanied the letter. This gallant gentleman stated to the Chief that he would scorn to accept the hand of the daughter unless he could first win her heart. He flattered himself, however, that he would have no difficulty in that matter. The whole tone of the letter was that of a regular masher. I do not know whether these letters ever reached the chief and his fair dusky daughter or not, nor do I know whether he was blessed or cursed with a white son-in-law. My belief is that the perverseness of that Detroit printer obstructed the civilization of a tribe. In conclusion, the jolly Indian agent was gathered to his fathers years ago. The bow has fallen from the nerveless grasp of the generous chieftain. The princess may still be alive; if so, and if her eyes by chance should fall upon these lines, she will, no doubt, remember the bashful and ungallant young man who met her in front of her royal father's mansion in the beautiful Umatilla Valley in 1852.