Chapter VIII: {iii} (2)

The doctor returned near night with his timber, one elm and a number of quaking-asp sticks; and appeared gratified that he had been able to find the requisite number of sufficient size to support his floor. Tea came on, and passed away in earnest conversation about native land and friends left there--of the pleasure they derived from their present occupation--and the trials that befell them while commencing the mission and afterwards.

Among the latter, was mentioned the drowning of their child in the Wallawalla the year before, a little girl two years old. She fell into the river at the place where they took water for family use. The mother was in the house, the father a short distance away on the premises. The alarm was conveyed to them almost instantly, and they and others rushed to the stream, and sought {135} for their child with frantic eagerness. But the strong heavy current had carried it down and lodged it in a clump of bushes under the bank on which they stood. They passed the spot where it lay, but found it too late. Thus these devoted people were bereft, in the most afflicting manner, of their only child--left alone in the wilderness.[217]

The morning of the 24th opened in the loveliest hues of the sky. Still none of the beauty of the harvest field--none of the fragrance of the ripened fruits of autumn were there. The wild horses were frolicking on the plains; but the plains smoked with dust and dearth. The green woods and the streams sent up their harmonies with the breeze; but it was like a dirge over the remains of the departed glories of the year. And yet when the smoking vegetables, the hissing steak, bread white as snow, and the newly-churned golden butter graced the breakfast table, and the happy countenances of countrymen and countrywomen shone around, I could with difficulty believe myself in a country so far distant from, and so unlike my native land, in all its features. But during breakfast, this pleasant illusion was dispelled by one of the causes which induced it.

{136} Our steak was of horse-flesh! On such meat this poor family subsist most of the time. They do not complain. It enables them to exist to do the Indian good, and thus satisfies them.[218] But can it satisfy those who give money for the support of missionaries, that the allowance made by their agents for the support of those who abandon parents and freedom and home, and surrender not only themselves to the mercy of the savages, but their offspring also, should be so meagre, as to compel them to eat horse-flesh! This necessity existed in 1839, at the mission on the Wallawalla, and I doubt not exists in 1843.

The breakfast being over, the doctor invited me to a stroll over his premises. The garden was first examined; its location, on the curving bank of the Wallawalla; the apple trees, growing thriftily on its western border; the beautiful tomato and other vegetables, burdening the grounds. Next to the fields. The doctor's views of the soil, and its mode of receiving moisture from the river, were such as I have previously expressed. "For," said he, "in those places where you perceive the stratum of gravel to be raised so as to interrupt the capillary attraction of the superincumbent earth, the {137} crop failed." Then to the new house. The adobie walls had been erected a year. These were about forty feet by twenty, and one and a half stories high. The interior area consisted of two parlours of the ordinary size, separated by an adobie portion. The outer door opened into one of them; and from this a door in the partition led to the other. Above were to be sleeping apartments. To the main building was attached another of equal height designed for a kitchen, with chambers above for servants. Mr. Monger and a Sandwich Islander were laying the floors, making the doors, &c.

The lumber used was a very superior quality of yellow pine plank, which Dr. Whitman had cut with a whip saw among the blue mountains, fifteen miles distant. Next to the "caral." A fine yoke of oxen, two cows, an American bull, and the beginning of a stock of hogs were thereabout. And last to the grist-mill on the other side of the river. It consisted of a spherical wrought iron burr four or five inches in diameter, surrounded by a counter-burred surface of the same material. The spherical burr was permanently attached to the shaft of a horizontal water-wheel. The surrounding burred surface was firmly fastened to {138} timbers, in such a position that when the water-wheel was put in motion, the operation of the mill was similar to that of a coffee-mill. It was a crazy thing, but for it the doctor was grateful.

It would, with the help of himself and an Indian, grind enough in a day to feed his family a week, and that was better than to beat it with a pestle and mortar. It appeared to me quite remarkable that the doctor could have made so many improvements since the year 1834. But the industry which crowded every hour of the day, his untiring energy of character, and the very efficient aid of his wife in relieving him in a great degree from the labours of the school, are, perhaps, circumstances which will render possibility probable, that in five years one man without funds for such purposes, without other aid in that business than that of a fellow missionary at short intervals, should fence, plough, build, plant an orchard, and do all the other laborious acts of opening a plantation on the face of that distant wilderness; learn an Indian language and do the duties, meanwhile, of a physician to the associate stations on the Clear Water and Spokan.[219]

In the afternoon, Dr. Whitman and his {139} lady assembled the Indians for instruction in reading. Forty or fifty children between the ages of seven and eighteen, and several other people gathered on the shady side of the new mission-house at the ringing of a hand-bell, and seated themselves in an orderly manner on wooden benches. The doctor then wrote monosyllables, words, and instructive sentences in the Nez Percés language, on a large blackboard suspended on the wall, and proceeded first to teach the nature and power of the letters in representing the simple sounds of the language, and then the construction of words and their uses in forming sentences expressive of thought. The sentences written during these operations were at last read, syllable by syllable, and word after word, and explained until the sentiments contained in them were comprehended; and it was delightful to notice the undisguised avidity with which these people would devour a new idea. It seemed to produce a thrill of delight that kindled up the countenance and animated the whole frame. A hymn in the Nez Percés language, learned by rote from their teachers, was then sung, and the exercises closed with prayer by Dr. Whitman in the same tongue.

{140} 25th. I was awakened at early dawn by the merry sounds of clapping boards, the hammer, the axe and the plane; the sweet melodies of the parent of virtue, at this cradle of civilization. When I rose everything was in motion. Dr. Whitman's little herd was lowing in the river; the wild horses were neighing at the morning breeze; the birds were caroling in the groves. I said, every thing was alive. Nay, not so. The Skyuse village was in the deepest slumber, save a few solitary individuals who were stalking with slow and stately tread up a neighbouring bute, to descry the retreat of their animals. Their conical skin lodges dotted the valley above the mission, and imparted to the morning landscape a peculiar wildness. As the sun rose, the inmates began to emerge from them.

It was a chilly hour; and their buffalo robes were drawn over their shoulders, with the hair next the body. The snow-white flesh side was fringed with the dark fur that crept in sight around the edges, and their own long black glistening tresses fell over it far down the back. The children were out in all the buoyancy of young life, shouting to the prancing steed, or betting gravel stones that the arrows upon their little {141} bows would be the first to clip the sturdy thistle head upon which they were waging mimic war. The women were busy at their fires, weaving mats from the flag; or sewing moccasins, leggings, or hunting shirts. Crickie was giving meat to his friends, who the past winter had fed him, and taken care of him, while lying sick.

This is the imperial tribe of Oregon. They formerly claimed a prescriptive right to exercise jurisdiction over the country down the Columbia to its mouth; and up the North and South Forks to their sources. In the reign of the late high Chief, the brother of him who now holds that station, this claim was acceded to by all the tribes within those districts. But that talented and brave man left at his death but one son, who, after receiving a thorough education at the Selkirk settlement on Red River of Lake Winnipeg, also died--and with him the imperial dignity of the Skyuse tribe.[220]

The person in charge at Fort Wallawalla, indeed dressed the present incumbent in better style than his fellows; proclaimed him high chief, and by treating him with the formality usually tendered to his deceased brother, has obtained for him the {142} name, but not the respect and influence belonging to the office. He is a man of considerable mental power, but has none of the fire and energy attributed to his predecessor. The Wallawallas and Upper Chinooks are the only tribes that continue to recognise the Skyuse supremacy.

The Skyuse are also a tribe of merchants. Before the establishment of Forts Hall and Boisais, they were in the habit of rendezvousing at "La Grande Rounde," an extensive valley in the Blue Mountains, with the Shoshonies and other Indians from the Saptin, and exchanging with them their horses for furs, buffalo robes, skin tents, &c. But since the building of these posts, that portion of their trade is nearly destroyed. In the winter season, a band of them usually descends to the Dalles, barters with the Chinooks for salmon, and holds councils over that mean and miserable band to ascertain their misdemeanors, and punish them therefore by whipping. The Wallawallas, however, are their most numerous and profitable customers. They may well be termed the fishermen of the Skyuse camp. They live on both banks of the Columbia, from the Blue Mountains to the Dalles, and employ themselves principally {143} in taking salmon. For these, their betters, who consider fishing a menial business, give them horses. They own large numbers of these animals. A Skyuse is thought to be poor who has but fifteen or twenty of them. They generally have many more. One fat, hearty old fellow, owns something more than two thousand; all wild, except many as he needs for use or sale.

To these reports of the Indians, Dr. Whitman gave little credence; so at variance were some of the facts related, with what he presumed the Hudson's Bay Company would permit to be done by any one in their employment, or under their patronage--the abuse of American citizens, and the ungentlemanly interference with their characters and calling.

On the morning of the 27th, the arrival of Mr. Ermetinger, the senior clerk at Fort Hall from Fort Wallawalla, created quite a sensation. His uniform kindness to the Missionaries has endeared him to them.[221] My companion, Blair, accompanied him. The poor old man had become lonely and discouraged, and as I had encouraged him to expect any assistance from me which his circumstances might demand, it afforded me the greatest pleasure to make his merits {144} known to the Missionaries, who needed an artisan to construct a mill at the station on the Clear Water. Dr. Whitman contracted with him for his services and Blair was happy. I sincerely hope he may for ever be so.

I attended the Indian school to-day. Mrs. Whitman is an indefatigable instructress. The children read in monosyllables from a primer lately published at the Clear Water station. After reading, they repeated a number of hymns in the Nez Percés, composed by Mr. Smith, of the Spokan station.[222] These were afterwards sung. They learn music readily. At nightfall, I visited the Indian lodges in company with Dr. Whitman. In one of them we saw a young woman who imagined that the spirit of a Medicine man, or conjuror, had entered into her system, and was wasting her life. She was resorting to the native remedy for such evils--singing wild incantations, and weeping loudly. This tribe, like all others west of the mountains, believe in witchcraft under various forms--practice sleight-of-hand, fire-eating, &c. They insert rough sticks into their throats, and draw them up and down till the blood flows freely, to make them long-winded on march. They {145} flatten the head, and perforate the septum, or partition of the nose. In this orifice they wear various ornaments. The more common one that I noticed was a wolf's tooth.

The Skyuse have two distinct languages: the one used in ordinary intercourse, the other on extraordinary occasions; as in war-councils, &c. Both are said to be copious and expressive. They also speak the Nez Percés and Wallawalla.

On the 28th, Mr. Ermetinger started for Fort Hall, and Blair for the Clear Water. Early in the day, the Indians brought in large numbers of their horses to try their speed. These are a fine race of animals; as large, and of better form, and more activity than most of the horses in the States. Every variety of colour is found among them, from the shining coal-black to the milk-white. Some of them are pied very singularly; for instance, a roan body with bay ears, and white mane and tail. Some are spotted with white on a roan, or bay, or sorrel ground, with tail and ears tipped with black. They are better trained to the saddle than those of civilized countries.

When an Indian wishes an increase of his serving animals, he mounts a fleet horse, {146} and, lasso in hand, rushes into his band of wild animals, throws it upon the neck of the chosen one, and chokes him down; and while in a state of insensibility, ties the hind and fore feet firmly together. When consciousness returns, the animal struggles violently, but in vain, to get loose. His fear is then attacked by throwing bear-skins, wolf-skins, and blankets at his head till he becomes quiet. He is then loosened from the cord, and rears and plunges furiously at the end of a long rope, and receives another introduction to bear-skins, &c. After this, he is approached and handled; or, if still too timid, he is again beset with blankets and bear-skins, as before, until he is docile. Then come the saddling and riding. During this training, they uniformly treat him tenderly when near, and rudely when he pulls at the end of the halter. Thus they make their wild steed the most fearless and pleasant riding animals I ever mounted.

The course pursued by Mr. Whitman, and other Presbyterian Missionaries, to improve the Indians, is to teach them the Nez Percés language, according to fixed grammatical rules, for the purpose of opening to them the arts and religion of civilized {147} nations through the medium of books. They also teach them practical agriculture and the useful arts, for the purpose of civilizing their physical condition. By these means, they hope to make them a better and a happier people. Perhaps it would be an easier way to the same result, if they would teach them the English language, and thus open to them at once the treasures which centuries of toil, by a superior race, have dug from the mines of intelligence and truth.

This was the evening before the sabbath, and Dr. Whitman, as his custom was, invited one of the most intelligent Indians to his study, translated to him the text of scripture from which he intended to teach the tribe on the morrow, explained to him its doctrines, and required of him to explain in turn. This was repeated again and again, until the Indian obtained a clear understanding of its doctrines.

The 29th was the sabbath, and I had an opportunity of noticing its observance by the Skyuse. I rose before the sun. The stars were waxing dim on the morning sky, the most charming dawn I ever witnessed. Every possible circumstance of sublimity conspired to make it so. There was the {148} pure atmosphere; not a wisp of cloud on all its transparent depths. The light poured over the Blue Mountains like a cataract of gold; first on the upper sky, then deepening its course through the lower air, it gilded the plain with a flood of brightness, mellow, beautiful brightness; the charms of morning light, on the brown, boundless solitudes of Oregon. The breeze scarcely rustled the leaves of the dying flowers; the drumming of the woodpecker on the distant tree, sounded a painful discord; so grand, so awful, and yet so sweet, were the unuttered symphonies of the sublime quiet of the wilderness.

At ten o'clock the Skyuse assembled for worship in the open air. The exercises were according to the Presbyterian form; the invocation, the hymn, the prayer, the hymn, the sermon, a prayer, a hymn, and the blessing; all in the Nez Percés tongue. The principal peculiarity about the services was the mode of delivering the discourse. When Dr. Whitman arose and announced the text, the Indian who had been instructed on the previous night, rose and repeated it; and as the address proceeded, repeated it also by sentence or paragraph, till it was finished. This is the custom of {149} the Skyuse in all their public speaking. The benefit resulting from it in this case, apparently, was the giving the doctrines which the Doctor desired to inculcate, a clearer expression in the proper idiom of the language.

During the recess, the children were assembled in sabbath school. In the afternoon, the service was similar to that of the morning. Every thing was conducted with much solemnity. After worship, the Indians gathered in their lodges, and conversed together concerning what they had heard. If doubt arose as to any point, it was solved by the instructed Indian. Thus passed the sabbath among the Skyuse.

On the 29th, I hired Crickie to take me to the Dalles; and, Mrs. Whitman having filled my sacks with bread, corn-meal, and other edibles, I lashed my packs once more for the lower Columbia.

FOOTNOTES:

[183] The river was named by Captain William Clark in honor of his fellow explorer, Captain Meriwether Lewis, the latter being the first white man to visit its banks. Later, the term Snake was more frequently applied, because that tribe of Indians ranged within the basin of this river. The word Saptin (Shahaptin) is derived from a stock of Indians, of whom the Nez Percés are the most prominent branch.--ED.

[184] By Long's range, Farnham intends what is now known as Front range, with Long's Peak, James's (now Pike's) Peak, and Pike's (now the Spanish Peaks) as its outposts. For his use of these terms see _ante_, pp. 111, 184, 283, notes 50, 111, 166. The Great Gap is South Pass, for which see our volume xxi, p. 58, note 37.--ED.

[185] These spurs are the boundaries of South and Middle Parks, for which see _ante_, pp. 199, 221, notes 123, 132.--ED.

[186] The range described by Farnham as the Snowy Mountains, refers to the Sierra Nevada; but is an incorrect description. The mountains he saw north-east and north-west of Fort Hall, covered with perpetual snow, were part of the main Rocky Mountains trending westward from Yellowstone Park. The President's range is that now known as Cascade Mountains, in which Mounts Jefferson and Adams perpetuate the memory of those early executives.--ED.

[187] For a brief description of this range see Townsend's _Narrative_ in our volume xxi, p. 184, note 35.--ED.

[188] For these three streams, which rise farther west than here indicated, see De Smet's _Letters_ in our volume xxvii, p. 224, note 92.--ED.

[189] For Grand River see _ante_, p. 223, note 135.--ED.

[190] The South Platte rises in South Park (Bayou Salade), flows east and then north-east, and breaking through Front Range at Platte Cañon, above Denver, continues in a nearly northward course to old Fort St. Vrain; it then turns abruptly east across the great plains, and unites with the North Platte in western Nebraska.--ED.

[191] For Wyeth and the founding of Fort Hall see our volume xxi, especially pp. 210, 211. The fort was built in 1833 (not 1832). The nearest Hudson's Bay post was Fort Walla Walla, for which see volume xxi, p. 278, note 73.--ED.

[192] For the Wallawalla Indians see Ross's _Oregon Settlers_, in our volume vii, p. 137, note 37.--ED.

[193] For the Three Buttes see our volume xxi, p. 209, note 49.--ED.

[194] By western, Farnham intends the southern bank of the Lewis, where passed the usual trail from Fort Hall. Rough as it was, the southern bank was less cut with gulleys and rapid torrent beds than the northern.--ED.

[195] The term Digger Indians has no ethnological significance, but was applied to degraded bands of the Shoshonean stock who ranged chiefly west and south of Great Salt Lake; without horses or much clothing, they lived in a furtive way upon roots and insects. The name is sometimes equivalent to Paiute, who have proved to be of a more vigorous character than was formerly supposed. The French appellation was Digne de pitié (worthy of pity); see De Smet's _Letters_ in our volume xxvii, p. 167, note 38.--ED.

[196] Farnham must have been in the neighborhood of the great Shoshone Falls of Lewis River. His description would better apply to Twin Falls, two and a half miles higher up which are about two hundred feet in height; but they are caused by the flow of the river, not by springs.--ED.

[197] This ford is about thirty-five miles below the falls, not far from Glenn's Ferry. It consists of two islands, with the water between sufficiently shallow to be fordable.--ED.

[198] The entire region is volcanic, and hot springs are frequent. Hot Spring Creek is an affluent of the Lewis, some distance below the Malade. See Frémont's analysis of these springs in _Senate Docs._, 28 Cong., 2 sess., 174, p. 171.--ED.

[199] This must be a misprint for twenty miles "east of the Saptin" or Lewis. The guide evidently bore off from the main river in order to strike the Boise, which afforded wood for fuel and pasture for horses as well as furnished a short cut to the fort at its mouth.--ED.

[200] For the Boise River, see Townsend's _Narrative_ in our volume xxi, p. 249, note 63. The Snake Indians are noted in volume v, p. 227, note 123.--ED.

[201] For the Bannock Indians see our volume xxi, p. 192, note 41. The Boise was frequently called Reed's River, because of the murder thereupon (1814) of a trapping party under the leadership of a bourgeois of that name. See Ross's _Oregon Settlers_ in our volume vii, pp. 265-270.--ED.

[202] Lewis and Clark passed the main ridge of the Rockies at the source of the west fork of Jefferson's River, coming out upon the Lemhi. By the "Great Gap," Farnham undoubtedly intends South Pass. The Bannock crossed at the headsprings of Henry's Fork of the Snake (see De Smet's _Letters_, our volume xxvii, p. 252), coming down into Madison Valley, whence they made their way by Bozeman's Pass to the Yellowstone, or country of the Crows; or possibly to the country of the Blackfeet, on Maria's River, by continuing down the Missouri.--ED.

[203] Fort Boise was built in the spring of 1834 (not 1832) by Thomas McKay, stepson of Dr McLoughlin, the Hudson's Bay factor at Fort Vancouver. It was at first but a miserable pen of crooked saplings, a few miles up Boise River; but later was, as Farnham mentions, removed below the mouth of the river, and constructed of adobe. It was an important station on the Oregon Trail--the resting place after the difficult travel of the Snake River plains, and before attempting the rough route to the Columbia. With the decline of the fur-trade, the importance of Fort Boise was much diminished, and when it was destroyed (1853) by a remarkable rise of Snake River, it was but partially repaired. A neighboring Indian massacre (1854) caused the post to be entirely abandoned the succeeding year. In 1863 the government built a military post known as Fort Boise, or Boise Barracks, fifty miles above the old Hudson's Bay post, at the site of the modern city of Boise.--ED.

[204] Payette commanded this post for a number of years. Whitman found him there in 1836, and he was still in charge as late as 1843.--ED.

[205] The history of this wagon is interesting. It was brought out by Dr. Whitman in 1836, and the following passages in Mrs. Whitman's letters (Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1891, pp. 40-68) relate thereto: "July 25. Husband had a tedious time with the wagon to-day. It got stuck in the creek this morning when crossing and he was obliged to wade considerably in getting it out. After that, in going between the mountains, on the side of one, so steep that it was difficult for horses to pass, the wagon was upset twice.... 28th. One of the axle-trees of the wagon broke to-day; was a little rejoiced, for we were in hopes they would leave it, and have no more trouble with it. Our rejoicing was in vain for they are making a cart of the back wheels, this afternoon, and lashing the fore wheels to it--intending to take it through in some shape or other". On Snake River the box was abandoned, and finally what remained of the vehicle was left at Fort Boise. When Joseph L. Meek came through in 1840, he secured the remains of this historic wagon and transported his family therein to Dr. Whitman's station at Waiilatpu.--ED.

[206] These springs are just below the entrance of Malheur River, for which see our volume xxi, p. 264, note 64. Frémont tested them, and found the temperature 193° Fahrenheit; he mentions the incrustation of salt.--ED.

[207] Probably Burnt (or Brulé) River, for which see our volume xxi, p. 267, note 67.--ED.

[208] L'Arbre Seul was a well-known landmark in Powder River valley, just at the ford of the river. When Frémont passed in 1843 he found that some inconsiderate emigrant had felled the big tree with his axe. The place was thereafter known as Lone Pine Stump. For Powder River see our volume xxi, p. 268, note 68.--ED.

[209] Grande Ronde valley, for which see our volume xxi, p. 271, note 69.--ED.

[210] The passage of the Blue Mountains was one of the difficult portions of the Oregon Trail. Compare our volume xxi, pp. 272-276; also Mrs. Whitman's "Journal," in Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1891, pp. 55-57.--ED.

[211] For the Walla Walla River see our volume vi, p. 338, note 142.--ED.

[212] For the Cayuse (Skyuse) Indians see Ross's _Oregon Settlers_ in our volume vii, p. 137, note 37.--ED.

[213] For a brief description of Fort Walla Walla see our volume xxi, p. 278, note 73.--ED.

[214] The Whitman mission station was on the north bank of the Walla Walla, six miles west of the present city of that name. The place was called by its Indian name Waiilatpu. See Mrs. Whitman's description of the site in Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1891, pp. 88-90; she gives a plan of the new house on pp. 136, 137. For a brief sketch of Dr. Marcus Whitman, see our volume xxi p. 352, note 125.--ED.

[215] The mission of the American Board at the Sandwich Islands decided (1839) to present to the Oregon mission their printing press and its appurtenances, they having recently received a new outfit from the United States. This press, which had then seen twenty years' service in Hawaii, was placed on board of the annual vessel to the Columbia, and in process of time reached Dr. Whitman's station; thence it was transferred to Lapwai, where it continued in use, printing native texts, etc., during the existence of the mission. The press was advertised for sale in 1860, but there being no customer, Mrs. Spaulding presented it to the state as an historical relic. It has found a home in the state house at Salem. See Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1889, p. 94. With the press came Edwin O. Hall, an American printer, who had been employed some time in the Sandwich Islands, and desired to leave because of the impaired condition of his wife's health. He remained at the Oregon mission until the next year, when he returned to the Islands, subsequently returning to the Eastern states where he died about 1887. (See Mrs. Whitman's "Journal," in Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1891, p. 137.)

For Asahel Munger see _ante_, p. 275, note 161.--ED.

[216] For Narcissa Prentice Whitman see our volume xxi, p. 355, note 128.--ED.

[217] See Mrs. Whitman's own account of the loss of this daughter, Alice Clarissa, in Oregon Pioneer Association _Transactions_, 1891, pp. 120-126.--ED.

[218] Mrs. Whitman writes in 1838: "The Indians have furnished us a little venison--barely enough for our own eating--but to supply our men and visitors we have killed and eaten ten wild horses bought of the Indians. This will make you pity us, but you had better save your pity for more worthy subjects. I do not prefer it to other meat, but can eat it very well when we have nothing else." (See "Journal," as in preceding note, p. 96.)--ED.

[219] For the location of the Spokan mission see De Smet's _Letters_ in our volume xxvii, p. 367, note 187.

The Clearwater station was called Lapwai, being situated at the mouth of a creek of that name in Nez Percé County, western Idaho. It was founded in 1836 by Henry H. Spaulding, for whom see our volume xxi, p. 352, note 125. Abandoned after the Whitman massacre (1847), a military post succeeded, being maintained until 1886. A portion of Spaulding's house was recently standing.--ED.

[220] In Ross's time, Quahat was the great Cayuse war-chief. He also speaks of the importance of the Cayuse, and their ruling propensities--see Chittenden, _Fur-Trade_, i, p. 181.

For the Red River settlement, see Franchère's _Narrative_ in our volume vi, pp. 379, 381, notes 195, 199.--ED.

[221] For Francis Ermatinger see De Smet's _Letters_, in our volume xxvii, p. 235, note 108.--ED.

[222] Asa B. Smith came out in 1838 with Elkanah Walker and Cushing Eells to re-inforce the mission to the Nez Percés. Smith had considerable linguistic ability, and with the aid of the noted Indian chief Lawyer compiled a grammar and vocabulary of the Nez Percé language. Becoming discouraged, however, he left the mission at Kamai in 1841, and resigning the following year retired to the Sandwich Islands.--ED.