Chapter VII: Preface (3)

Having already spoken to you of the desert Nez-Percé and Spokane, I have nothing further to add relative to this dreary region. On advancing easterly towards the Blue Mountains, we find beautiful and fertile plains, interspersed with limpid and wholesome streams. The valleys are picturesque, covered with luxuriant prairies, and forests of pine and fir. The _Nez-Percé Kayuses_ inhabit these delightful pastures.[195] They are the most wealthy tribes in Oregon; {105} even some private families possess 1500 horses. The savages successfully cultivate potatoes, pease, corn, and several kinds of vegetables and fruits. No situation affords finer grazing for cattle; even in winter they find an abundance, nor do they need shelter from the inclemency of the weather. Snow is never seen, and the rains are neither destructive nor superabundant.

About the middle of July, I arrived safely with all my effects, at the Bay of Kalispels. In my absence the number of neophytes had considerably increased. On the feast of the Ascension, Father Hocken had the happiness of baptizing more than one hundred adults. Since my departure in the spring, our little colony has built four houses, prepared materials for constructing a small church, and enclosed a field of 300 acres. More than four hundred _Kalispels_, computing adults and children have been baptized. They are all animated with fervor and zeal; they make use of the hatchet and plough, being resolved to abandon an itinerant life for a permanent abode. The beautiful falls of the Columbia, called the Chaudières,[196] in the vicinity of Fort Colville, are distant two days’ journey from our new residence of St. Ignatius.

From eight to nine hundred savages were {106} there assembled for the salmon fishery. I repaired thither in time to spend with them the nine days preceding the feast of our holy founder. Within the last four years, considerable numbers of these Indians were visited by the “black-gowns,” who administered the sacrament of baptism. I was received by my dear Indians with filial joy and tenderness. I caused my little chapel of boughs to be placed on an eminence in the midst of the Indians’ huts, where it might not inaptly be compared to the pelican of the wilderness surrounded by her young, seeking with avidity the divine word, and sheltering themselves under the protection of their fostering mother. I gave three instructions daily; the Indians assisted at them with great assiduity and attention.

Last year, the feast of St. Ignatius proved for me a day of danger, trial, and uneasiness. I love to recall it to my mind, for it terminated joyfully, and so gloriously, that I know my companions can never forget it, and they will return lasting thanks to the Almighty, for the display of His mercy. Without a chart or any knowledge of the mouth of the Columbia, we traversed, as if borne on angels’ wings, this formidable river. This year, I passed the feast {107} of St. Ignatius amidst many occupations, but they were of such a nature as to console the missionary’s heart, and repay him a hundred-fold, for the trifling privations, pains, and fatigues he endures.

(See Letter 5th)]

More than one hundred children were presented for baptism, and eleven old men borne to me on skins, seemed only awaiting regenerating waters, to depart home and repose in the bosom of their divine Saviour. The eldest among them, apparently about one hundred, and blind, addressed me in the following pathetic words:—My life has been long on earth, and my tears have not ceased to flow; even now I daily weep, for I have beheld all my children and early associates disappear. I find myself isolated among my own nation, as if I were in a strange land, thoughts of the past alone occupy me, and they are of a mournful and bitter nature. Sometimes I find consolation in remembering that I have avoided the company of the wicked. Never have I shared in their thefts, battles or murders. This blessed day, joy has penetrated the inmost recesses of my soul; the Great Spirit has taken pity on me, I have received baptism, I return him thanks for this favor, and offer him my heart and life.

{108} A solemn mass was celebrated, during which the Indians chanted canticles in praise of God. The ceremonies of baptism followed, and all terminated in the most perfect order, to the great delight and gratification of the savages. It was indeed a most imposing spectacle, all around contributed to heighten the effect. The noble, and gigantic rock, the distant roar of the cataracts breaking in on the religious silence of that solitude, situated on an eminence overlooking the powerful Oregon River, and on the spot where the impetuous waters freeing themselves from their limits, rush in fury, and dash over a pile of rocks, casting upwards a thousand jets d’eau, whose transparent columns reflect, in varied colors, the rays of the dazzling sun.

There were besides the _Shuyelphi_ or _Chaudière_ Indians, the _Sinpoils_, the _Zingomenes_ and several _Kalispels_, accompanied me in the capacity of singers and catechists.[197]

I gave the name of St. Paul to the _Shuyelphi_ nation, and placed under the care of St. Peter the tribe inhabiting the shores of the great Columbia lakes, whither Father Hocken is about to repair, to continue instructing and baptizing their adults. My presence among the Indians did not interrupt their fine and abundant {109} fishery. An enormous basket was fastened to a projecting rock, and the finest fish of the Columbia, as if by fascination, cast themselves by dozens into the snare. Seven or eight times during the day, these baskets were examined, and each time were found to contain about 250 salmon. The Indians, meanwhile, were seen on every projecting rock, piercing the fish with the greatest dexterity.

They who know not this territory may accuse me of exaggeration, when I affirm, that it would be as easy to count the pebbles so profusely scattered on the shores, as to sum up the number of different kinds of fish, which this western river furnishes for man’s support; as the buffalo of the north, and deer from north to east of the mountains, furnish daily food for the inhabitants of those regions, so do these fish supply the wants of the western tribes. One may form some idea of the quantity of salmon and other fish, by remarking, that at the time they ascend the rivers, all the tribes inhabiting the shores, choose a favorable location, and not only do they find abundant nutriment during the season, but, if diligent, they dry, and also pulverize and mix with oil a sufficient quantity for the rest of the year. Incalculable shoals of {110} salmon ascend to the river’s source, and there die in shallow water. Great quantities of trout and carp follow them, and regale themselves on the spawn deposited by the salmon in holes and still water. The following spring the young salmon descend towards the sea, and I have been told, (I cannot vouch for the authenticity,) that they never return until the fourth year. Six different species are found in the Columbia River.[198]

I left Chaudière or Kettle Falls, August 4th, accompanied by several of the nation of the _Crees_ to examine the lands they have selected for the site of a village. The ground is rich and well suited for all agricultural purposes. Several buildings were commenced; I gave the name of St. Francis Regis to this new station, where a great number of the mixed race and beaver hunters have resolved to settle, with their families.[199] The 6th I traversed the high mountains of the _Kalispels_, and towards evening reached the establishment of St. Ignatius. The Rev. Fathers Hocken and Ravalli, with two lay brothers, superintend this interesting little settlement. These fathers likewise visit the different neighboring tribes, such as the _Zingomenes_, _Sinpoils_, _Okinaganes_, the stations of St. Francis {111} Regis, of St. Peter, and that of St. Paul, the _Flat-bows_, and the _Koetenays_.[200] I purpose visiting these two tribes, who have never yet had the consolation of beholding a “black gown” among them. All these tribes comprehend, on an average, about five hundred souls.

I am, with profound respect and esteem,

Your lordship’s most obedient servant,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. VI

A. M. D. G.

Station of the Assumption, Arcs-a-plats, August 17th, 1845.

MONSEIGNEUR,—The 9th of August I continued my route towards the country of the _Arcs-a-plats_. The roads were still inundated by the great freshet. I preferred ascending the Clark or Flathead River, in my bark canoe, and sent my horses across the forests bordering the river, to await me at the great lake of the _Kalispels_.[201] I had here a very agreeable and unexpected interview; as we approached the forests, several horsemen issued forth in tattered garments. The foremost gentleman saluted me by name, with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance. I returned the gracious salutation, desiring to know whom I had the honor of addressing. A small river separated us, and, with a smile, he said, “Wait until I reach the opposite shore, and then you will recognise me.” He is not a {113} beaver hunter, said I to myself; yet under this tattered garb and slouched hat, I could not easily descry one of the principal members of the Hon. Hudson Bay Co., the worthy and respectable Mr. Ogden. I had the honor and good fortune of making a voyage with him, and in his own barge, from Colville to Fort Vancouver, in 1842; and no one could desire more agreeable society.[202] It would be necessary for you to traverse the desert, to feel yourself insulated, remote from brethren, friends, to conceive the consolation and joy of such an rencounter.

Mr. Ogden left England in the month of April last, accompanied by two distinguished officers. It was a source of great pleasure to receive recent news from Europe. The Oregon question appeared to me somewhat alarming. It was neither curiosity nor pleasure that induced these two officers to cross so many desolate regions, and hasten their course towards the mouth of the Columbia. They were invested with orders from their government to take possession of “Cape Disappointment,” to hoist the English standard, and erect a fortress for the purpose of securing the entrance of the river, in case of war.[203] In the Oregon question, “John Bull,” without much talk, attains his {114} end, and secures the most important part of the country; whereas “Uncle Sam,” displodes a volley of words, inveighs and storms! Many years have been passed in debates and useless contention, without one single practical _effort_ to secure his real or pretended rights. The poor Indians of Oregon, who alone have a right to the country, are not consulted. Their future destiny will be, undoubtedly, like that of so many other unfortunate tribes, who, after having lived peaceably by hunting and fishing, during several generations, will finally disappear, victims of vice and malady, under the rapacious influence of modern civilization.

The route from the great _Kalispel_ lake to the _Arcs-a-plats_, or Flatbow country, is across dense forests, and much obstructed by fallen trees, morasses, frightful sloughs, from which the poor horses with much difficulty extricate themselves; but, having finally surmounted all these obstacles, we contemplate from an eminence a smiling and accessible valley, whose mellow and abundant verdure is nourished by two lovely lakes, where the graceful river of the Arcs-a-plats or McGilvray, winds in such fantastic beauty, that it serves to make the weary traveller not only forget his past dangers, but {115} amply compensates him for the fatigues of a long and tiresome journey.[204]

This section of the valley of _Arcs-a-plats_ greatly resembles the two valleys of the _Pointed Hearts_; same fertility of soil, lakes, pastures, willow and pine groves; elevated mountains covered to the very summit with dense forests of trees, low lands, in which the towering cedar displays all its majesty and splendid foliage; and, as Racine says:—

“Elevent aux cieux
Leurs fronts audacieux!”

The river is, in this place, deep and tranquil; moving along with a tardy pace until aroused from its inertness by the universal thaw; it then descends with such astounding impetuosity that it destroys the banks, and in its furious course, uproots and bears along trees, fragments of rocks, &c., which vainly oppose its passage. In a few days the entire valley is overflowed, and it presents to view immense lakes and morasses, separated by borders of trees. Thus does the kind providence of God, assist his poor creatures who inhabit these regions, by the liberality with which he ministers to their wants.

{116} These lakes and morasses, formed in the spring, are filled with fish; they remain there inclosed as in natural reservoirs, for the use of the inhabitants. The fish swarm in such abundance that the Indians have no other labor than to take them from the water and prepare them for the boiler. Such an existence is, however, precarious; the savages, who are not of a provident nature, are obliged to go afterwards in quest of roots, grain, berries and fruits; such as the thorny bush which bears a sweet, pleasant, blackberry; the rose-buds, mountain cherry, cormier or service berry, various sorts of gooseberries and currants of excellent flavor; raspberries, the hawthorn berry, the wappato, (sagitta-folia,) a very nourishing, bulbous root; the bitter root, whose appellation sufficiently denotes its peculiar quality, is, however, very healthy; it grows in light, dry, sandy soil, as also the caious or biscuit root.[205] The former is of a thin and cylindrical form; the latter, though farinaceous and insipid, is a substitute for bread; it resembles a small white radish; the watery potatoe, oval and greenish, is prepared like our ordinary potatoe, but greatly inferior to it; the small onion; the sweet onion, which bears a lovely flower resembling the {117} tulip. Strawberries are common and delicious. To this catalogue I could add a number of detestible fruits and roots which serve as nutriment for the Indians, but at which a _civilized_ stomach would revolt and nauseate. I cannot pass over in silence the camash root, and the peculiar manner in which it is prepared. It is abundant, and, I may say, is the queen root of this clime. It is a small, white, vapid onion, when removed from the earth, but becomes black and sweet when prepared for food. The women arm themselves with long, crooked sticks, to go in search of the camash. After having procured a certain quantity of these roots, by dint of long and painful labor, they make an excavation in the earth from twelve to fifteen inches deep, and of proportional diameter, to contain the roots. They cover the bottom with closely-cemented pavement, which they make red hot by means of a fire. After having carefully withdrawn all the coals, they cover the stones with grass and wet hay; then place a layer of camash, another of wet hay, a third of bark overlaid with mould, whereon is kept a glowing fire for fifty, sixty, and sometimes seventy hours. The camash thus acquires a consistency equal to that of the jujube. {118} It is sometimes made into loaves of various dimensions. It is excellent, especially when boiled with meat; if kept dry, it can be preserved a long time.[206]

As soon as their provisions are exhausted the Indians scour the plains, forests, and mountains, in quest of game. If they are unsuccessful in the chase, their hunger becomes so extreme, that they are reduced to subsist on moss, which is more abundant than the camash. It is a parasite of the pine, a tree common in these latitudes, and hangs from its boughs in great quantities; it appears more suitable for mattresses, than for the sustenance of human life. When they have procured a great quantity, they pick out all heterogeneous substance, and prepare it as they do the camash; it becomes compact, and is, in my opinion, a most miserable food, which, in a brief space, reduces those who live on it to a pitiable state of emaciation.[207]

Such are the _Arcs-a-plats_. They know neither industry, art, nor science; the words _mine_ and _thine_ are scarcely known among them. They enjoy, in common, the means of existence spontaneously granted them by Nature; and as they are strangely improvident, they often pass from the greatest abundance to extreme scarcity. {119} They feast well one day, and the following is passed in total abstinence. The two extremes are equally pernicious. Their cadaverous figure sufficiently demonstrates what I here advance. I arrived among the _Arcs-a-plats_ in time to witness the grand _fish festival_, which is yearly celebrated; the men only have the privilege of assisting thereat. Around a fire fifty feet long, partially overlaid with stones of the size of a turkey’s egg, eighty men range themselves; each man is provided with an osier vessel, cemented with gum and filled with water and fish. The _hall_ where this extraordinary feast is celebrated is constructed of rush mats, and has three apertures, one at either extremity for the entrance of guests; the middle one serves for transporting the fish. All preparations being completed, and each man at his post, the chief, after a short harangue of encouragement to his people, finishes by a prayer of supplication to the “Great Spirit,” of whom he demands an abundant draught. He gives the signal to commence, and each one armed with two sticks flattened at the extremity, makes use of them instead of tongs, to draw the stones from the embers, and put them in his kettle. This process is twice renewed, and in {120} the space of five minutes the fish are cooked. Finally, they squat around the fire in the most profound silence to enjoy the repast, each trembling lest a bone be disjointed or broken,—an indispensable condition (a _sine quâ non_) of a plentiful fishery. A single bone broken would be regarded as ominous, and the unlucky culprit banished the society of his comrades, lest his presence should entail on them some dread evil.

A species of sturgeon which measures from six to ten, and sometimes twelve feet in length, is taken by the dart in the great lake of _Arcs-a-plats_.[208]

Since my arrival among the Indians, the feast of the glorious Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary has ever been to me a day of great consolation. I had time to prepare for the celebration of this solemn festival. Thanks be to the instructions and counsels of a brave Canadian, Mr. Berland,[209] who for a long time has resided among them in the quality of trader, I found the little tribe of _Arcs-a-plats_ docile, and in the best disposition to embrace the faith. They had already been instructed in the principal mysteries of religion. They sang canticles in the French and Indian tongues. They number about ninety families. I celebrated the first Mass ever offered in their {121} land; after which ten adults already advanced in age and ninety children received baptism. The former were very attentive to all my instructions. In the afternoon, the erection of the cross was as solemn as circumstances would admit. There was a grand salute of ninety guns, and at the foot of the lowly standard of the God-Saviour, the entire tribe made a tender of their hearts to Him, with the promise of inviolable attachment to all the duties of true children of prayer, availing themselves of this occasion to renounce the remains of their ancient juggling and superstition. The cross was elevated on the border of a lake, and the station received the beautiful name of the Assumption. Under the auspices of this good Mother, in whose honor they have for many years sung canticles, we hope that religion will take deep root and flourish amidst this tribe, where union, innocence, and simplicity, reign in full vigor. They ardently desire to be taught agriculture, the advantages of which I have explained, and promised to procure the necessary seed and implements of husbandry.

I have the honor to be, monseigneur, your most humble and obedient servant in Jesus Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. VII

A. M. D. G.

Ford of Flat-Bow River,[210] Sept. 2d, 1845.

MONSEIGNEUR,—The _Flat-bows_ and _Koetenays_ now form one tribe, divided into two branches. They are known throughout the country by the appellation of the _Skalzi_.—Advancing towards the territory of the Koetenays we were enchanted by the beautiful and diversified scenery. We sometimes traversed undulatory woods of pine and cedar, from which the light of day is partially excluded. We next entered sombre forests, where, axe in hand, we were forced to cut our way and wind about to avoid hosts of trees that had been levelled by the autumnal blasts and storms. Some of these forests are so dense that, at the distance of twelve feet, I could not distinguish my guide. The most certain way of extricating one’s-self from these labyrinths, is to trust to the horse’s sagacity, which, if left unguided, will follow the track of other animals. This expedient has saved me a hundred times.

{123} I cannot refrain from communicating to your lordship the gloomy and harrowing thoughts which imagination conjures up in these dismal regions. The most fearful apprehensions dismay the bravest heart and cause an involuntary shudder, as some dire apparition of a bear or panther stalks in fancy before the mind, whilst groping our way amidst these dark and frightful haunts, from which there is no egress. We caught a transitory glimpse of many charming spots covered with vegetation as we pursued our winding path near the river, wherever it deviated from its natural course. At a place called the Portage, the river crosses a defile of mountains, or rather of precipitous and frightful rocks; and the traveller is compelled, for the distance of eight miles, to risk his life at every step, and brave obstacles that appear, at first sight, insuperable.[211]

Whatever can be imagined appalling seems here combined to terrify the heart—livid gashes of ravines and precipices, giant peaks and ridges of varied hue, inaccessible pinnacles, fearful and unfathomable chasms filled with the sound of ever-precipitating waters, long, sloping and narrow banks, which must be alternately ascended, and many times have I been obliged {124} to take the attitude of a quadruped and walk upon my hands; often during this perilous passage did I return fervent thanks to the Almighty for his protection from impending danger. Amid these stern, heaven-built walls of rocks, the water has forced its way in varied forms, and we find cataracts and whirlpools engulfing crags and trees, beneath their angry sway. Whilst the eye rests with pleasure on the rich and russet hues of distant slopes, upland turf and rock-hung flower—the ear is stunned by the confused sounds of murmuring rills, rushing streams, impetuous falls, and roaring torrents.

An extensive plain at the base of the Portage mountain presents every advantage for the foundation of a city. The mountains surrounding this agreeable site are majestic and picturesque. They forcibly recalled to my memory the noble Mapocho Mountains that encompass the beautiful capital of Chili (Santiago). Innumerable little rills, oozing from the mountain’s stony bosom, diffuse a transparent haze over the valleys and lower slopes. The fine river Des Chutes comes roaring down and crosses the plain before it joins its waters to the McGilvray, which tranquilly pursues its course.[212] The quarries and forests appear inexhaustible; and having remarked {125} large pieces of coal along the river, I am convinced that this fossil could be abundantly procured. What would this now solitary and desolate land become, under the fostering hand of civilization? Indeed, the entire tract of the _Skalzi_ seems awaiting the benign influence of a civilized people. Great quantities of lead are found on the surface of the earth; and from the appearance of its superior quality, we are led to believe there may be some mixture of silver.[213]

Poor, unfortunate Indians! they trample on treasures, unconscious of their worth, and content themselves with the fishery and chase. When these resources fail, they subsist upon roots and herbs; whilst they eye, with tranquil surprise, the white man examining the shining pebbles of their territory. Ah! they would tremble, indeed, could they learn the history of those numerous and ill-fated tribes that have been swept from their land, to make place for Christians who have made the poor Indians the victims of their rapacity. After a few days’ journey we arrived at the Prairie du Tabac, the usual abode of the _Koetenays_.[214] Their camp is situated in an immense and delightful valley, bounded by two eminences, which, from their gentle and regular declivity, covered with {126} smooth pebbles, appear to have originally bounded an extensive lake.

On my arrival, I found about thirty lodges of _Koetenays_; hunger had forced many families to cross the great mountain. They came in quest of the buffalo, elk, antelope, and stag. I was received with every demonstration of joy and filial affection by those who remained in the lodges. They hailed me with a long and boisterous discharge of musketry. Several showed me their journal, consisting of a square stick on which they had notched the number of days and weeks elapsed since I abode with them in the neighborhood of the great lake Teteplatte.[215] They had computed forty-one months and some days.

Mr. Berland had exerted his zeal to maintain the _Koetenays_ and their brethren in the good dispositions in which I had the consolation of finding them. Since my last visit they have followed, to the very letter, all they remembered of my recommendations. I was obliged to decide some controversial points, which they had misinterpreted or misapprehended. They habitually assembled for morning and evening prayer, continued the practice of singing canticles, and faithfully observed the Sabbath precept.

{127} On the feast of the Holy Heart of Mary I sang High Mass, thus taking spiritual possession of this land, which was now for the first time trodden by a minister of the Most High. I administered the Sacrament of Baptism to one hundred and five persons, among whom were twenty adults. An imposing ceremony terminated the exercises of the day. Amidst a general salute from the camp, a large cross was elevated. The chiefs, at the head of their tribe, advanced and prostrated themselves before that sacred ensign, which speaks so eloquently of the love of a Man-God, who came to redeem a fallen race. At the foot of that sacred emblem, they loudly offered their hearts to him who has declared himself our Master, and the Divine Pastor of souls. This station bears the name of the Holy Heart of Mary. One of our Fathers will soon visit the two branches of this tribe.

Though these poor people were much in want of food, they pressed me to remain some days amongst them, whilst they listened with avidity to my instructions relative to their future conduct. After my departure they divided into small bands to go in search of provisions among the defiles of the mountains.

The 30th August I bade adieu to the _Koetenays_. {128} Two young men of their tribe offered to conduct me to the country of the _Black-feet_, and a third Indian, an expert hunter and good interpreter, completed the number of my little escort. I then journeyed on towards the sources of the Columbia.—The country we traversed was highly picturesque and agreeably diversified by beautiful prairies, from which poured forth spicy odors of flower, and shrub, and fresh spirit-elating breezes, smiling valleys and lakes, surrounded by hoary and solemn pines, gracefully waving their flexible branches. We also crossed magnificent dark Alpine forests, where the sound of the axe has never resounded; they are watered by streams which impetuously rush over savage crags and precipices from the range of mountains on the right.[216] This stupendous chain appears like some impregnable barrier of colossal firmness.

I am, with every sentiment of the most profound respect, your lordship’s humble and obedient servant in Jesus Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. VIII

A. M. D. G.

Head of the Columbia, September 9th, 1845.

All hail! Majestic Rock—the home,
Where many a wand’rer yet shall come,
Where God himself from his own heart,
Shall health, and peace, and joy impart.[217]

MONSEIGNEUR,—The 4th September, towards noon, I found myself at the source of the Columbia. I contemplated with admiration those rugged and gigantic mountains where the Great River escapes—majestic, but impetuous even at its source; and in its vagrant course it is undoubtedly the most dangerous river on the western side of the American hemisphere. Two small lakes from four to six miles in length, formed by a number of springs and streams, are the reservoirs of its first waters.[218]

I pitched my tent on the banks of the first fork that brings in its feeble tribute, and which we behold rushing with impetuosity over the inaccessible rocks that present themselves on {130} the right. What sublime rocks! How varied in shape and figure! The fantastic in every form, the attractive, the ludicrous, and the sublime, present themselves simultaneously to the view; and by borrowing ever so little the aid of the imagination, we behold rising before our astonished eyes, castles of by-gone chivalry, with their many-embattled towers—fortresses, surrounded by their walls and bulwarks—palaces with their domes—and, in fine, cathedrals with their lofty spires.

On arriving at the two lakes, I saw them covered with swarms of aquatic birds—coots, ducks, water-fowl, cormorants, bustards, cranes, and swans; whilst beneath the tranquil water lay shoals of salmon in a state of exhaustion. At the entrance of the second lake, in a rather shallow and narrow place, I saw them pass in great numbers, cut and mutilated, after their long watery pilgrimage among the rapids, cataracts, valleys, and falls; they continue this uninterrupted procession during weeks and months.[219]

Perhaps I shall scarcely be believed when I affirm that the salmon fish are quarrelsome. I witnessed with surprise the sharp and vengeful bites they mutually inflicted. These two lakes {131} form an immense tomb, for they there die in such numbers as frequently to infect the whole surrounding atmosphere.

In the absence of man, the grey and black bear, the wolf, the eagle, and vulture assemble in crowds, at this season of the year. They fish their prey on the banks of the river, and at the entrance of the lakes;—claws, teeth and bills serving them instead of hooks and darts. From thence, when the snow begins to fall, the bears, plump and fat, resume the road back to their dens in the thick of the forests, and hollows of rocks, there to pass the four sad wintry months in complete indolence, with no other pastime or occupation, than that of sucking their four paws.

If we may credit the Indians, each paw occupies the bear for one moon,(a _month_,) and the task accomplished, he turns on the other side, and begins to suck the second, and so on with the rest.

I will here mention, _en passant_, all the hunters and Indians remark that it is a very uncommon incident for a female bear to be killed when with young, and, notwithstanding, they are killed in all seasons of the year. Where they go—what becomes of them during the period {132} they carry their young—is a problem yet to be solved by our mountain hunters.

When emigration, accompanied by industry, the arts and sciences, shall have penetrated into the numberless valleys of the Rocky Mountains, the source of the Columbia will prove a very important point. The climate is delightful; the extremes of heat and cold are seldom known. The snow disappears as fast as it falls; the laborious hand that would till these valleys, would be repaid a hundred fold. Innumerable herds could graze throughout the year in these meadows, where the sources and streams nurture a perpetual freshness and abundance. The hillocks and declivities of the mountains are generally studded with inexhaustible forests, in which the larch tree, pine of different species, cedar and cypress abound.

In the plain between the two lakes, are beautiful springs, whose waters have re-united and formed a massive rock of soft sandy stone, which has the appearance of an immense congealed or petrified cascade. Their waters are soft and pellucid; and of the same temperature as the milk just drawn from the cow.[220] The description given by Chandler of the famous fountain of Pambouk Kalesi, on the ancient Hieropolis of {133} Asia Minor, in the valley of Meander, and of which Malte Brun makes mention, might be literally applied to the warm springs at the source of the Columbia.[221] The prospect unfolded to our view was so wonderful, that an attempt to give even a faint idea of it, would savor of romance, without going beyond the limits of fact.

We contemplated with an admiring gaze, this vast slope, which, from a distance, had the appearance of chalk, and when nearer, extends like an immense concreted cascade, its undulating surface resembling a body of water suddenly checked or indurated in its rapid course.

The first lake of the Columbia is two miles and a half distant from the River des Arcs-a-plats, and receives a portion of its waters during the great spring freshet. They are separated by a bottom land.[222] The advantages Nature seems to have bestowed on the source of the Columbia, will render its geographical position very important at some future day. The magic hand of civilized man would transform it into a terrestrial paradise.

The Canadian! Into what part of the desert has he not penetrated? The monarch who rules at the source of the Columbia is an honest emigrant {134} from St. Martin, in the district of Montreal, who has resided for twenty-six years in this desert. The skins of the rein and moose deer are the materials of which his portable palace is composed; and to use his own expressions, he EMBARKS on horseback with his wife and seven children, and LANDS wherever he pleases. Here, no one disputes his right, and Polk and Peel, who are now contending for the possession of his dominions, are as unknown to our carbineer, as the two greatest powers of the moon. His _sceptre_ is a beaver trap—his _law_ a carbine—the one on his back, the other on his arm, he reviews his numerous furry subjects the beaver, otter, muskrat, marten, fox, bear, wolf, sheep, and white goat of the mountains, the black-tailed roe-buck, as well as its red-tailed relative, the stag, the rein and moose deer; some of which _respect his sceptre_—others _submit to his law_. He exacts and receives from them the tribute of _flesh_ and _skins_. Encircled by so much grandeur, undisturbed proprietor of all the sky-ward palaces, the strong holds, the very last refuge which Nature has reared to preserve alive liberty in the earth—solitary lord of these majestic mountains, that elevate their icy summits even to the clouds,—Morigeau (our Canadian) {135} does not forget his duty as a Christian. Each day, morning and evening, he may be seen devoutly reciting his prayers, midst his little family.

Many years had Morigeau ardently desired to see a priest; and when he learned that I was about to visit the source of the Columbia, he repaired thither in all haste to procure for his wife and children the signal grace of baptism. The feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, this favor was conferred on them, and also on the children of three Indian families, who accompany him in his migrations. This was a solemn day for the desert! The august sacrifice of Mass was offered; Morigeau devoutly approached the Holy Table;—at the foot of the humble altar he received the nuptial benediction; and the mother, surrounded by her children and six little Indians, was regenerated in the holy waters of baptism. In memory of so many benefits, a large cross was erected in the plain, which, from that time, is called the _Plain of the Nativity_.

I cannot leave my good Canadian without making an honorable mention of his royal CUISINE A LA SAUVAGE. The first dish he presented me contained two paws of a bear. In Africa, {136} this ragout might have given some alarm; in effect, it bears a striking resemblance to the feet of a certain race. A roast porcupine next made its appearance, accompanied by a moose’s muzzle; the latter I found delicious. Finally, the great kettle containing a sort of hotch-potch, or salmagundi, was placed in the midst of the guests, and each one helped himself according to his taste.

Some remains of beef, buffalo, venison, beavers’ tails, hare, partridges, &c., made an agreeable, substantial, famous soup.

I am, monseigneur, your most humble and obedient servant in Jesus Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. IX

A. M. D. G.

Foot of the Cross of Peace, September 15th, 1845.

“——Here
Poplars and birch trees ever quivering played,
And nodding cedars formed a vagrant shade;
On whose high branches, waving with the storm,
The birds of broadest wings their mansion form;
The jay, the magpie, the loquacious crow,
And soar aloft and skim the deeps below.
Here limpid fountains from the clefts distil,
And every fountain forms a noisy rill,
In mazy windings wand’ring down the hill.”

MONSEIGNEUR,—We bade adieu to the Morigeau family on the 9th, and to their companions of the chase, the _Sioushwaps_.[223] We quitted the upper valley of the Columbia by a small footpath, which soon conducted us to a narrow mountain defile, where the light of day vanished from view, amidst the huge, bold barriers of colossal rocks. The grand, the sublime, the beautiful, here form the most singular and fantastic {138} combinations. Though gray is the prevailing color, we find an immense rock of porphyry, or white-veined granite. Here and there, from the fissures of the rock, or wherever there is a handful of dust, the heavy and immortal pine enroots itself, adding its gloomy verdure to the variegated hues of the torpid rocks. These circuitous paths often present the most ravishing and picturesque vistas; surrounded by colossal walls, the greatest diversity and most beautiful scenery in nature is spread out before the eye, where the plush and cedar rise majestically in these venerable woods, the graceful poplar waves on high its emerald plumes, and fights its battles with the howling storm, whilst over the precipitous and jagged rocks, the scarcely-waving pine fills the brown shade with religious awe. The birch springs from an earth carpetted with moss, and shines like magnificent silver columns, supporting diadems of golden autumnal leaves, amidst the redolent purple-berried juniper and azure turpentines, of these humid dells and forests.

After a day’s journey through these primeval scenes, we reached the banks of the river Arcs-a-plats, where innumerable torrents rush headlong, with a thousand mazes from the mountain’s {139} brow, and in their union form this noble river. From afar is heard the deafening and continuous sound of its own dashes, as it traverses a rocky bed with extraordinary rapidity. We crossed the river in order to attempt the passage of another defile, still more wonderful, where the waters of the Vermillion have forced an opening.[224] Here, everything strikes the eye; all is wild sublimity, in this profound but turbulent solitude. Projecting mountains rise like holy towers where man might commune with the sky;—terrible precipices hang in fragments overhead—the astounding noise of the deep-tongued waves, in their unconfined flow, resembles that of the angry tempest, sweeping wild and free, like the spirit of liberty. Now the breaking waves play low upon the rock-ribbed beach, and madly plunge into an abyss—anon it returns foaming to its sedgy bed, apparently sporting with the sedges for diversion—falling from slope to slope, from cascade to cascade, passing in its course a long train of rapids—now concealing itself under the tufted foliage of cedar and pine—again pouring its brilliant and crystalline waters into a capacious basin, as if to take breath before quitting the ravine, and {140} finally precipitating its wandering course with renovated vigor.

From this almost impenetrable forest issues a harmonious sound. ’Tis the whistling or lowing of the noble stag, calling its companion. The moose, the most vigilant of animals, gives the signal of alarm. He has heard the crackling branch—he has inhaled the hunter’s deadly breath; a confused noise is heard from the mountain; the sportsman raises his eager eye to its summit, and scans a flock of rein-deer perched upon the snow; they are startled at the approach of man; in an instant they are lost among the inaccessible pinnacles, the

“Palaces where Nature thrones
Sublimity in icy halls.”

We often catch a glimpse of the graceful forms and nimble feats of the roe-bucks, as they caper and gallop, or tarry an instant to look around, with their lancet ears distended to catch every sound; these wild, forest stragglers resume their course, and finally penetrate into the sombre forest. Flocks of wild goats gambol carelessly and tranquilly beside herds of mountain sheep above overhanging precipices and peaked rocks, chequered by patches of snow, far beyond the reach of human footsteps.

{141} A monstrous animal, the grey bear, which replaces on our mountains, the African lion, is not content with growling and menacing the intrepid venturer, who dares infringe on his cavernous dominions, but grinds his teeth, expressive of his rage. Suddenly, a well-aimed gun-shot forces him to make a lowly reference; the formidable beast rolls in the dust, biting the sand saturated with his blood, and expires.

The ordinary music of the desert is, the shrill cry of the panther, and the howling of the wolf. The diminutive mountain hare, six inches high, and whose biography has not yet found a place in natural history, amuses itself amidst the stony rubbish, and exhibits wonderful activity; whilst his neighbor, the lubberly porcupine, clambers up, seats himself upon a branching cypress and gnaws the bark. He views the eager huntsman with a careless and indifferent air, unconscious that his tender flesh is regarded as a most delicious morsel. The industrious beaver, like a wary sentinel, warns his family of man’s approach by striking the water with his tail. The muskrat, or musquash, plunges immediately into the water. The otter quits his sports and slides upon his belly among the reeds—the timid squirrel leaps from bough to {142} bough, until it reaches the topmost shade of the cypress; the marten jumps from tree to tree, and buries itself in the foliage—the whistler and weasel repair to their respective domicils:—a precipitous flight alone saves the fox his rich silvery pelisse—the badger, or the groundhog, too remote from his dwelling, digs the sandy soil, and buries himself alive, to avoid pursuit—his magnificent skin is destined to adorn the loins of an Indian—it requires the joint efforts of two men to force him from his hiding place, and to kill him.

The evening previous to our egression from the blind mazes of this tangled wood, our eyes were recreated by a ravishing scene. When it presents itself after a disastrous combat, the spectacle consoles the afflicted heart of the savage warrior. From the mountain’s top we contemplated the “dance of the manitous or spirits, and the glorious entrance of departed champions into the country of souls.” Vast columns of light varying in splendor, appeared to divert and balance themselves in the heavens:—some of perpendicular form; others resembling undulatory waves; now concealing, now exhibiting themselves under diversified aspects until the entire hemisphere seemed brilliantly {143} illuminated. All these masses united at the zenith, and then separated under a variety of forms.

Mysterious, solemn, cold and clear,
Their steps majestic rise,
Like barriers round this earthly sphere,
Like gates of Paradise.
Well may imagination faint
Before your sacred blaze,
And baffled science fail to paint
The source of heaven-lit rays.

The aurora borealis, is a phenomenon which I always contemplate with mingled admiration and pleasure. All that is seen, all that is heard in this unfathomable solitude, is both agreeable and instructive. It strikes, captivates, and elevates the mind towards the Author of nature. _Mirabilia opera Domini!_

After much fatigue, labor, and admiration, on the 15th we traversed the high lands separating the waters of Oregon from those of the south branch of the Sascatshawin, or the ancient Bourbon river, so called before the Canadian conquest by the British.[225] It is the largest tributary of the Winnepeg, which flows into Hudson’s Bay by the River Nelson, 58 deg. north latitude.[226]

{144} The Christian’s standard, _the cross_, has been reared at the source of these two rivers: may it be a sign of salvation and peace to all the scattered and itinerant tribes east and west of these gigantic and lurid mountains.

On the cypress which serves for constructing the cross, the eagle, emblem of the Indian warrior, perches himself. The huntsman aims—the noble bird lies prostrate, and even in his fall, seems to retain his kingly pride. It so forcibly recalls to memory the beautiful lines of the illustrious Campbell, that I quote them in full:—

Fallen as he is, the king of birds still seems
Like royalty in ruins. Though his eyes
Are shut, that looked undazzled on the sun,
He was the sultan of the sky, and earth
Paid tribute to his eyrie. It was perched
Higher than human conqueror ever built
His bannered fort....

... He cloved the adverse storm
And cuffed it with his wings. He stopped his flight
As easily as the Arab reins his steed,
And stood at pleasure ’neath heaven’s zenith, like
A lamp suspended from its azure dome;
Whilst underneath him the world’s mountains lay
Like mole-hills, and her streams like lucid threads.

We breakfasted on the bank of a limpid lake at the base of the “Cross of Peace,” from whence {145} I have the honor of dating my letter, and of giving you the renewed assurance of my profound respect and veneration; recommending to your fervent prayers, in a special manner, this vast desert, which contains so many precious souls still buried in the shades of death.

Monseigneur, your very humble and devoted servant in Jesus Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. X

A. M. D. G.

Camp of the Assiniboins, Sept. 26th, 1845.

“Here bloomy meads with vivid greens are crown’d,
And glowing violets throw sweet odors round.”

MONSEIGNEUR,—By a steep declivity we entered a rich valley, agreeably diversified by enamelled meads, magnificent forests, and lakes—in which the salmon-trout so abound, that in a few minutes we procured sufficient for an excellent repast. The valley is bounded on either side by a succession of picturesque rocks, whose lofty summits, rising in the form of pyramids, lose themselves in the clouds. The far-famed Egyptian monuments of Cheops and Cephren dwindle into nought, before this gigantic architectural cliff of nature. The natural pyramids of the Rocky mountains seem to deride the artificial skill of man; they serve as a resting place for the clouds that come hither to seek repose, and to encircle their giant brows. The Lord’s omnipotent {147} hand has laid the foundations—_he_ has permitted the elements to form them, and in every age they proclaim His power and glory!

We emerged from this delightful valley, on the 18th of September, after a three days’ excursion, and recommenced our mountainous peregrination, which presented nothing but obstacles and contusions, both to men and horses. For the space of six hours we were compelled to trace our route across fragments of broken rocks, through an extensive and parched forest, and where millions of half-consumed trees lay extended in every direction. Not a trace of vegetation remained, and never had I contemplated so dismal and destructive a conflagration!

We reached the River des Arcs or Askow, in the evening, and pitched our solitary tent upon the shore.[227] Here we discovered some vestiges of a savage party. Five days previous, nine lodges of Indians had encamped upon the very spot. We made a careful search, and my guides imagined they were the formidable Black-feet![228] We, the same day, saw two smokes at the extremity of the plain over which these barbarians had travelled. My companions seemed to hesitate, as we drew near the vicinity {148} of these fearful Black-feet. They recounted to me their inauspicious dreams, and wished to deter me from proceeding. One said: “_I_ saw myself devoured by a wild bear;” another, “_I_ saw ravens and vultures, (ill-omened birds), hovering over the head of our father;” a third saw a bloody spectacle. I gave them, in my turn, the history of one of _my_ sentries, the archetype of vigilance, courage and simplicity.

“Midst the dark horrors of the sable night
(No idle dream I tell nor fancy’s strain)
Thrice rose the red man’s shade upon my sight,
Thrice vanished into dusky air again.
With courage high my panting bosom swells,
Onward I rushed upon the threatening foe,
When, hark! Horrific rise the spectre’s yells
He points the steel and aims the fatal blow;
Guard, sentinel! to arms! to arms! to arms!
Indians! Indians! my voice swelled loud and deep:
The camp is roused at dread of my alarms,
They wake and find—_that I am sound asleep_!”

They were greatly amused at the recital of _his_ imaginary fancies, and seemed to understand how little import I attached to such visions. “Happen what may,” said they, “we shall never quit our father until we see him in a place of safety.” This was precisely what I desired. I could not, however, deceive myself. {149} I had finally entered a land, the theatre of so many sanguinary scenes. I was now on the very confines of these barbarous people, from which, possibly, I should never return! It not unfrequently happens, that, in their unbridled fury when they hear some relative has been killed, the Black-feet despatch the first stranger they meet, scalp him—and then abandon to the wolves and dogs, the palpitating limbs of the unfortunate victim of their vengeance, hatred, and superstition. I declare to you, I was beset by a thousand disquietudes concerning the fate that awaited me. Poor nature! this timid and fragile _meus homo_ is sometimes terrified. He would wish to look back and listen to dreams. My longing desires repeated incessantly—_Advance_! I placed my whole confidence in God—the prayers of so many fervent souls encouraged and re-animated me; I resolved not to be deterred by an uncertain danger. The Lord can, when he pleases, mollify these pitiless and ferocious hearts. The salvation of souls is at stake, and the preservation of the mission of St. Mary’s depends on my proceeding; for there, the incursions of the Black-feet are very frequent. What consideration could deter me from a project {150} which my heart had cherished, since my first visit among the mountains?

The 19th and 20th, we followed the tracks of our unknown predecessors, and they appeared more and more recent. I despatched my two guides to reconnoitre, and ascertain whom we were so closely pursuing.—One of them returned the same evening, with the news that he had found a small camp of Assiniboins of the forest; that they had been well received; that a disease reigned in the camp, of which two had lately died, and that they expressed great desire to see the _Black-gown_. The following morning we joined them, and journeyed several days in company.

The Assiniboins of the forest do not amount to more than fifty lodges or families, divided into several bands.[229] They are seldom seen in the plains; the forest is their element, and they are renowned huntsmen and warriors. They travel over the mountains and through the woods, over the different forks and branches of the sources of the Sascatshawin and Athabaska. Agriculture is unknown to this tribe; they subsist exclusively on small animals, such as big-horns, goats, bucks; but especially on the porcupine, which swarms in this region. When pressed by {151} hunger, they have recourse to roots, seeds, and the inner bark of the cypress tree. They own few horses, and perform all their journeys on foot.