The Columbia River: Its History, Its Myths, Its Scenery, Its CommerceLyman, William Denison
History
The Columbia River: Its History, Its Myths, Its Scenery, Its Commerce
Lyman, William Denison
Columbia River; Columbia River -- Description and travel; Columbia River -- History
every moment my wife would breathe her last. Tuesday night, felt our
way to the trail and staggered along to Sutucksnina (Dog Creek), which
we waded as we did the other creek, and kept on about two miles when
my wife fainted and could go no farther. Crawled into the brush and
frozen mud to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold, and without
sleep. The children, too, wet and cold, called incessantly for food,
but the shock of groans and yells at first so frightened them that
they did not speak loud. Wednesday night my wife was too weak to
stand. I took our second child and started for Walla Walla; had to
wade the Touchet; stopped frequently in the brush from weakness; had
not recovered from measles. Heard a horseman pass and repass as I lay
concealed in the willows. Have since learned that it was Mr. Spalding.
Reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight; begged Mr. McBean for horses
to get my family, for food, for blankets, and clothing to take to
them, and to take care of my child till I could bring my family in,
should I live to find them alive. Mr. McBean told me I could not bring
my family to his fort.
Mr. Hall came in on Monday night, but he could not have an American in
his fort, and he had put him over the Columbia River; that he could
not let me have horses or anything for my wife and children, and I
must go to Umatilla. I insisted on bringing my family to the fort, but
he refused; said he would not let us in. I next begged the priests to
show pity, as my wife and children must perish and the Indians
undoubtedly would kill me, with no success. I then begged to leave my
child who was not safe in the fort, but they refused.
There were many priests in the fort. Mr. McBean gave me breakfast, but
I saved most of it for my family. Providentially Mr. Stanley, an
artist, came in from Colville, narrowly escaped the Cayuse Indians by
telling them he was "Alain" H. B. He let me have his two horses, some
food he had left from Rev. Eells and Walker's mission; also a cap, a
pair of socks, a shirt, and handkerchief, and Mr. McBean furnished an
Indian who proved most faithful, and Thursday night we started back,
taking my child, but with a sad heart that I could not find mercy at
the hands of the priests of God. The Indian guided me in the thick
darkness to where I supposed I had left my dear wife and children. We
could see nothing and dared not call aloud. Daylight came and I was
exposed to Indians, but we continued to search till I was about to
give up in despair when the Indian discovered one of the twigs I had
broken as a guide in coming out to the trail. Following these he soon
found my wife and children still alive. I distributed what little food
and clothing I had, and we started for the Umatilla, the guide leading
the way to a ford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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