Chapter IX: Preface (5)

All the men in the camp insisted on honoring me with an escort, and accompanied me a distance of ten miles. Here we separated, each one affectionately pressed my hand—mutual good wishes were exchanged—tears flowed on both sides—and I was left with my companions in one of those wild ravines where nothing meets the eye, but ranges of gloomy mountains rising on all sides, like so many impassable barriers.

Upper Athabasca is, unquestionably, the most elevated part of North America. All its mountains are prodigious, and their rocky and snow-capt summits seem to lose themselves in the clouds. At this season, immense masses of snow often become loosened and roll down the mountains’ sides with a terrific noise, that resounds throughout these quiet solitudes like distant thunder—so irresistible is the velocity of their descent, that they frequently carry with them enormous fragments of rock, and force a {199} passage through the dense forests which cover the base of the mountain. At each hour, the noise of ten avalanches descending at once, breaks upon the ear; on every side we see them precipitated with a frightful rapidity.

From these mountains, the majestic river of the north, the upper branch of the Sascatshawin, the two great forks of the McKenzie, the Athabasca and Peace rivers, the Columbia, and Frazer at the west, derive the greater part of their waters.

In the neighborhood of the Miette river, we fell in with one of those poor families of Porteurs or “Itoaten,” of New Caledonia, of whom I spoke to you in a former letter; they saw us from the summit of the mountain that overlooks the valley through which we were passing, and perceiving we were whites, hastened down to meet us. They appeared overjoyed at seeing us, particularly when they discovered that I was a Black-gown; they crowded around me, and begged me to baptize them with an earnestness that affected me to tears, though I was able to grant this favor to only two of their smallest children, the others required instruction, but there was no interpreter. I exhorted them to return soon to their own country, where they {200} would find a Black-gown (Father Nobili) who would instruct them. They made the sign of the cross, recited some prayers in their own language, and sang several hymns with great apparent devotion. The condition of these people seemed very wretched; they had no clothes but a few rags and some pieces of skins, and yet, notwithstanding their extreme poverty, they laid at my feet the mountain sheep they had just killed.

The history of a poor young woman, one of their number, deserves to be recorded, as it affords a lively picture of the dangers and afflictions to which these unfortunate people are often exposed. When she was about fifteen years of age, her father, mother, and brothers, together with another family of her nation, were surprised in the wood by a party of Assiniboine warriors, and massacred without mercy. At the time of this horrid scene, the young girl was in another part of the forest with her two sisters, both younger than herself; they succeeded in concealing themselves, and thus escaped falling into the hands of the assassins. The hapless orphan wandered about the desert for two years, without meeting any human being, subsisting on roots, wild fruits, and porcupines. {201} In winter she sheltered herself in the abandoned den of a bear. The sisters left her at the end of the first year, since which they have never been heard of. At length, after three years, she was fortunately found by a good Canadian, who took her home, provided her with comfortable food and clothing, and six months after restored her to her tribe.

We resumed our journey the following day, and arrived about nightfall on the banks of the Athabaska, at the spot called the “Great Crossing.” Here we deviated from the course of that river, and entered the valley de la Fourche du Trou.[263]

As we approached the highlands the snow became much deeper. On the 1st of May, we reached the great Bature, which has all the appearance of a lake just drained of its waters. Here we pitched our tent to await the arrival of the people from Columbia, who always pass by this route on the way to Canada and York Factory. Not far from the place of our encampment, we found a new object of surprise and admiration. An immense mountain of pure ice, 1,500 feet high, enclosed between two enormous rocks. So great is the transparency of this beautiful ice, that we can easily distinguish {202} objects in it to the depth of more than six feet. One would say, by its appearance, that in some sudden and extraordinary swell of the river, immense icebergs had been forced between these rocks, and had there piled themselves on one another, so as to form this magnificent glacier. What gives some color of probability to this conjecture is, that on the other side of the glacier, there is a large lake of considerable elevation. From the base of this gigantic iceberg, the river Trou takes its rise.

The people of Columbia have just arrived. I must therefore take this present opportunity, the only one I shall have for a long time, of sending you my letters, and before closing this, permit me again to recommend myself and all my missions to your holy sacrifices and fervent prayers.[264]

Meantime, I have the honor to be, with the most sincere respect and esteem, Monseigneur, your very humble and obedient servant in Jesus Christ,

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

No. XVI

A. M. D. G.

Boat Encampment on the Columbia, May 10th, 1846.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL:—By my last letter to the distinguished Prelate of New-York, in which I gave my different missionary excursions during 1845-46 among several tribes of the Rocky Mountains, you have learned that I had arrived at the base of the Great Glacier, the source of the river _du Trou_, which is a tributary of the Athabaska, or Elk river. I will now give to your reverence the continuation of my arduous and difficult journey across the main chain of the Rocky Mountains, and down the Columbia, on my return to my dear brethren in Oregon.

Towards the evening of the 6th of May, we discovered, at the distance of about three miles, the approach of two men in snow shoes, who soon joined us. They proved to be the forerunners {204} of the English Company which, in the spring of each year, go from Fort Vancouver to York Factory, situated at the mouth of the river Nelson, near the fifty-eighth degree north latitude.[265] In the morning my little train was early ready; we proceeded, and after a march of eight miles we fell in with the gentlemen of the Hudson Bay Company. The time of our reunion was short, but interesting and joyful. The great melting of the snow had already begun, and we were obliged to be on the alert to cross in due time, the now swelling rapids and rivers. The news between travellers, who meet in the mountains is quickly conveyed to one another. The leaders of the company were my old friends, Mr. Ermatinger, of the Honorable Hudson Bay Company,[266] and two distinguished officers of the English army, Captains Ward and Vavasseur, whom I had the honor of entertaining last year at the Great Kalispel lake. Capt. Ward is the gentleman who had the kindness to take charge of my letters for the States and for Europe.

Fifteen Indians of the Kettle-Fall tribe accompanied him. Many of them had scaled the mountains with one hundred and fifty pounds weight upon their backs. The worthy Capt. {205} Ward spoke many things in praise of them. He admired their honesty and civility, and above all, their sincere piety and great regularity in their religious duties; every morning and evening, they were seen retiring a short distance from the camp, to sing one or two hymns, and join in common prayer. “I hope,” added the Captain, “I shall never forget the example, which these poor, but good savages, have given me. During the time that they were with me, I was much struck by their becoming deportment, and I have never seen more sincere piety than they exhibited.”

The gentlemen of the English Company were now at the end of their chief difficulties and troubles. They gladly threw away their snow shoes to take horses for four days; at Fort Jasper they were to enter skiffs, to go to Fort Assiniboine, on the river Athabasca. For myself, I had to try the snow shoes for the first time in my life; by means of them, I had to ascend those frightful ramparts, the barriers of snow, which separate the Atlantic world from the Pacific Ocean. I have, in my previous letters, already told you, that this is probably the most elevated point of the Rocky Mountains, where five great rivers derive their sources, {206} viz.: the north-branch of the Sascatshawin, flowing into Lake Winnepeg, the Athabasca and Peace rivers, uniting and flowing into Great Slave Lake, which is discharged into the Northern Ocean, by the Mackenzie, the most solitary of rivers. From the bosom of these mountains the Columbia and Frazer rivers derive water from a thousand fountains and streams.

We had now seventy miles to travel in snow shoes, in order to reach the boat encampment on the banks of the Columbia. We proposed to accomplish this in two days and a half. The most worthy and excellent Messrs. Rowan and Harriot, whose kindness at the Rocky Mountain House and Fort Augustus I shall ever acknowledge, were of opinion, that it was absolutely impossible for me to accomplish the journey, on account of my heavy mould, and they wished to dissuade me from attempting it. However, I thought I could remedy the inconvenience of my surplus stock, by a vigorous fast of thirty days, which I cheerfully underwent. I found myself much lighter indeed, and started off somewhat encouraged, over snow sixteen feet deep. We went in single file—alternately ascending and descending—sometimes across plains piled up with avalanches—sometimes {207} over lakes and rapids buried deeply under the snow—now, on the side of a deep mountain—then across a forest of cypress trees, of which we could only see the tops. I cannot tell you the number of my summersets. I continually found myself embarrassed by my snow shoes, or entangled in some branch of a tree. When falling, I spread my arms before me, as one naturally would do, to break the violence of the fall; and upon deep snow the danger is not great,—though I was often half buried, when I required the assistance of my companions, which was always tendered with great kindness and good humor.

We made thirty miles the first day, and then made preparations to encamp. Some pine trees were cut down and stripped of their branches, and these being laid on the snow, furnished us with a bed, whilst a fire was lighted on a floor of green logs. To sleep thus—under the beautiful canopy of the starry heavens—in the midst of lofty and steep mountains—among sweet murmuring rills and roaring torrents—may appear strange to you, and to all lovers of rooms, rendered comfortable by stoves and feathers; but you may think differently after having come and breathed the pure air of the {208} mountains, where in return, coughs and colds are unknown. Come and make the trial, and you will say that it is easy to forget the fatigues of a long march, and find contentment and joy even upon the spread branches of pines, on which, after the Indian fashion, we extended ourselves and slept, wrapped up in buffalo robes.

The next morning we commenced the descent of what is called the Great Western Slope. This took us five hours. The whole slope is covered with gigantic cedars, and with pine trees of different species. Wo to the man, who happens to have a heavy body, or to make a false step. I say this from experience; for many times I found myself twenty or thirty feet from the point of my departure—happy indeed if, in the fall, I did not violently strike my head against the trunk of some great tree.

At the foot of the mountain an obstacle of a new kind presented itself. All the barriers of snow, the innumerable banks, which had stopped the water of the streams, lakes, and torrents, were broken up during the night, and swelled considerably the Great Portage river.[267] It meanders so remarkably in this straight valley, down which we travelled for a day and a half, {209} that we were compelled to cross the said river not less than forty times, with the water frequently up to our shoulders. So great is its impetuosity, that we were obliged mutually to support ourselves, to prevent being carried away by the current. We marched in our wet clothes during the rest of our sad route. The long soaking, joined to my great fatigue, swelled my limbs. All the nails of my feet came off, and the blood stained my moccasins or Indian shoes. Four times I found my strength gone, and I should certainly have perished in that frightful region, if the courage and strength of my companions had not roused and aided me in my distress.

We saw May-poles all along the old encampments of the Portage. Each traveller who passes there for the first time, selects his own. A young Canadian, with much kindness, dedicated one to me, which was at least one hundred and twenty feet in height, and which reared its lofty head above all the neighboring trees. Did I deserve it? He stripped it of all its branches, only leaving at the top a little crown; at the bottom my name and the date of the transit were written. Moose, reindeer, and mountain goats are frequently found in this region.

{210} We next passed through a thick and mountainous forest, where hoary pines lay prostrate by thousands—and where many a giant tree, in its full vigor, had been levelled to the ground by the raging tempest. On issuing from the forest, an extensive marsh presented itself, through which we had to plod, up to the knees in mud and water; this trouble was trifling compared to the past, and we were still more encouraged at the sight of a beautiful and verdant plain, where four reindeer were seen carousing, bouncing, and jumping in the midst of plenty. No doubt they, as well as ourselves, had issued forth from the snowy and icy cliffs, and felt light-hearted and joyful at the delightful prospect of mountain and plain at this season of the year. On approaching, a dozen guns were at once levelled against the innocent and timid creatures. I was pleased to observe, by the wonderful rapidity with which they used their legs, that no one had injured their noble and beautiful frames.

Towards the middle of the day we arrived at the Boat Encampment, on the bank of the Columbia, at the mouth of the Portage river.[268] Those who have passed the Rocky Mountains at fifty three degrees of north latitude, during {211} the great melting of the snows, know whether or not we merit the title of good travellers. It required all my strength to accomplish it, and I confess that I would not dare undertake it again.

After so many labors and dangers, we deserved a repast. Happily, we found at the encampment all the ingredients that were necessary for a feast—a bag of flour, a large ham, part of a reindeer, cheese, sugar, and tea in abundance, which the gentlemen of the English Company had charitably left behind. While some were employed refitting the barge, others prepared the dinner; and in about an hour we found ourselves snugly seated and stretched out around the kettles and roasts, laughing and joking about the summersets on the mountains, and the accidents on the Portage. I need not tell you, that they described me as the most clumsy and awkward traveller in the band.

Three beautiful rivers unite at this place: the Columbia, coming from the south-east—the Portage river, from the north-east, and the Canoe river from the north-west. We were surrounded by a great number of magnificent mountains, covered with perpetual snow, and rising from twelve to sixteen thousand feet {212} above the level of the ocean. The Hooker and the Brown are the highest, the latter measuring sixteen thousand feet.[269]

Very Rev. and dear Father Provincial, your humble brother in Jesus Christ,

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

No. XVII

A. M. D. G.

St. Paul’s Station, near Colville, May 29th, 1846.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL—The Columbia at the Boat Encampment is 3,600 feet above the level of the sea. Having finished our meal, we launched the barge and rapidly descended the river, which was now swollen many feet above its usual level. Did not more serious avocations call him away, an admirer of Nature would willingly linger in a region like this. The volcanic and basaltic islands—the range of picturesque mountains, whose bases came to bathe in the river, whilst their summits seemed to be struggling, in the giant efforts of the avalanche, to throw off the winding-sheet of winter, in order to give place to the new and beautiful verdure of the month of May, with its smiling and varied flowers—the thousand fountains which we could at one view behold, {214} leaping out with soothing music from the shelves of perpendicular rocks bordering the river—all lent their aid to increase the beauty of the scenery of Nature, which, in this region of the Columbia, seems to have put forth all her energy to display her grandeur and magnificence.

After some hours of descent we came to Martin’s rapid, where a Canadian, so called, together with his son, found a watery grave. Its roar is deafening, and the agitation of the water resembles that of a raging sea-storm. The whole bed of the river is here strewed with immense fragments of rocks. Guided by an expert Iroquois pilot, and aided with ten oars, the boat darted over its boisterous surface, dancing-like and leaping from wave to wave, with the rapidity of lightning.

At sunset we were at the Dalle of the Dead. (_Dalle_ is an old French word, meaning a trough, and the name is given by the Canadian voyageurs to all contracted running waters, hemmed in by walls of rocks.) Here, in 1838, twelve unfortunate travellers were buried in the river.[270] The waters are compressed between a range of perpendicular rocks, presenting innumerable crags, fissures and cliffs, through which the Columbia leaps with irresistible impetuosity, {215} forming, as it dashes along, frightful whirlpools, where every passing object is swallowed and disappears. By means of two long ropes we dropped down our boat through the Dalle, and encamped for the night at its outlet.

On the 11th we continued our route at early dawn—the mountain scenery was hidden from our view wrapped up in dense mist and fog, which were seen ascending in dense pillars, adding to the forming clouds above, till the whole sky was overcast. Occasionally, as if to break upon the unusual monotony, would a fallow or reindeer be observed on the margin of the stream, or peeping with uplifted ears from a thicket, as the strange sound of oars, or the Canadian song, came stealing louder and louder upon them in their quiet abode:—off they bounded, affrighted at the sight of men, so hateful, it appears, to the wild and timid creatures of the forest. In the evening we encamped at the entrance of the Upper Lake.

This beautiful sheet of crystalline water, whilst the rising sun was tinting the tops of a thousand hills around, came most refreshing to the eye. It is about thirty miles long, by four or five wide. Its borders are embellished by overhanging precipices and majestic peaks, {216} which, rearing their white heads above the clouds, look down like venerable monarchs of the desert upon the great forests of pines and cedar surrounding the lake. The two highest peaks are called St. Peter and St. Paul.

Twenty Indian families, belonging to the station of St. Peter, were found encamped on the borders of the lake. I gladly accepted their invitation to visit them. It was the meeting of a father with his children, after ten months of absence and dangers. I dare say the joy was mutually sincere. The greater part of the tribe had been converted during the past year, at Kettle Falls. These families were absent at that time. I passed, therefore, several days among them, to instruct them in the duties and practices of religion. They then received baptism, with all the marks of sincere piety and gratitude. Gregory, the name of their chief, who had not ceased to exhort his people by word and example, had the happiness to receive baptism in 1838, from the hands of the Rev. Mr., now Archbishop, Blanchet. The worthy and respectable chief was now at the height of his joy, in seeing at last all his children brought under the standard of Jesus Christ. The tribe of these lake Indians are a part of the Kettle {217} Fall nation. They are very poor, and subsist principally on fish and wild roots. As soon as we shall have more means at our disposal, we will supply them with implements of husbandry and with various seeds and roots, which I have no doubt, will thrive well in their country; this will be a great assistance to these destitute people. The second lake is about six miles distant from the first. It is of about the same length, but less wide. We passed under a perpendicular rock, where we beheld an innumerable number of arrows sticking out of the fissures. The Indians, when they ascend the lake, have a custom of lodging each an arrow into these crevices. The origin and cause of the custom is unknown to me.[271]

The mouth of the river McGilvray or Flat-Bow, is near the outlet of the Lower Lakes. It presents a beautiful situation for the establishment of a future Reduction or Mission, and I have already marked out a site for the construction of a church. About twenty miles lower, we passed the Flat-Head or Clark’s river, which contributes largely to the Columbia. These two beautiful rivers derive a great portion of their waters from the same chain of the Rocky Mountains, from which a great number of the {218} forks of the south branch of the Sascatshawin and of the Missouri are supplied. For a distance of about thirty miles from their junction with the Columbia, are they obstructed by insurmountable falls and rapids. Among the many lakes connected with the Flat-Head river, three are very conspicuous, and measure from thirty to forty miles in length, and from four to six in width. The Flat-Head lake receives a broad and beautiful stream, extending upwards of a hundred miles in a north-western direction, through a most delightful valley, and is supplied by considerable torrents, coming from a great cluster of mountains, connected immediately with the main chain, in which a great number of lakes lie imbedded. Clark’s fork passed through Lake Kalispel.[272] Lake Roothaan is situated in the Pend-d’oreille and Flat-Bow mountains, and discharges itself by the Black-gown river into the Clark, twenty miles below Kalispel Lake.[273] The St. Mary’s, or Bitter-root river, from the south-east, is the greatest tributary of Clark’s fork, and the chief residence of the Flat-Heads. All these waters contain an abundance of fish, especially trout. The geography of the head of Clark’s Fork, is little known, as appears from the maps, the south-east {219} branch or the Saint Mary’s river being only a small tributary compared to the main stream, coming from the north-west, and passing through the great Flat-Head lake.

Our barge was in great danger in the Dalle, some miles above Colville.[274] I had left it, to go on foot, to avoid the dangerous passage. The young boatman, notwithstanding my remonstrances, thought they could pass in safety. A whirlpool suddenly arrested their course, and threatened to bury them beneath its angry waters. Their redoubled efforts proved ineffectual—I saw them borne on with an irresistible force to the engulfing centre—the bow of the boat descended already into the abyss and filled! I was on my knees upon the rock which overhung this frightful spectacle, surrounded by several Indians—we implored the aid of Heaven in favor of our poor comrades—they seemed to be evidently lost—when the whirlpool filled, and threw them from its bosom, as it reluctantly yielded up the prey which it had so tenaciously held. We all gave heartfelt thanks to Almighty God for having delivered them from a danger so imminent.

From the outlet of the Lower Lake of the Columbia to Fort Colville, the aspect of the {220} country is highly picturesque and interesting. The whole section, on both sides of the river, is well supplied with rivulets and streams. The soil is rather light, but it affords fine grazing; the mountains are not high—the forests are open—the bottom lands present here and there beautiful groves—the surface of the soil yields an abundant and luxuriant grass.

Towards the end of the month of May I arrived at Fort Colville. I found the nation of Shuyelphi or Kettle Fall already baptized by the Rev. Father Hoecken, who had continued to instruct them after my departure in the month of August of last year. They had built, to my great surprise, a small frame church, so much the more beautiful and agreeable to my eyes, as being their first attempt at architecture, and the exclusive work of the Indians. With a laudable pride they conducted me, as in triumph, to the humble and new temple of the Lord, and in favor of that good people, and for their perseverance in the faith, I there offered the august Sacrifice of the Altar.

The arrival of the good Father Nobili at Colville filled us with great joy and consolation. He had made missionary excursions over the greatest portion of New Caledonia. Everywhere {221} the Indian tribes received him with open arms, and took great care to bring their little children to be baptized. I add to this an extract from his letter, which will give you an outline of his journey and the number of baptisms he performed. Having made a retreat of eight days in the Reduction of St. Ignatius, and after a month of repose and preparation for a second expedition, he returned with renewed zeal and fervor to his dear Caledonians, accompanied by several laborers, and supplied with a dozen horses, loaded with implements of agriculture and carpentry.

As a token of my sincere gratitude, and to let you know that we have friends and benefactors in Oregon, I must here state to your Reverence, that Father Nobili and myself were most hospitably entertained during our stay at Fort Colville. The kindness of the Honorable Mr. Lewes and family I shall never forget.[275] The attention shown Father Nobili, in the trading posts of New Caledonia is beyond all praise. Truly and deservedly has Commodore Wilkes stated,[276] “That the liberality and hospitality of all the gentlemen of the Honorable Hudson Bay Company are proverbial.” Indeed, we experience this and participate of it on all occasions.

{222} I remain, with profound respect and esteem, Very Rev. and dear Father, your humble and obedient servant,

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

No. XVIII

A. M. D. G.

EXTRACT FROM FATHER NOBILI’S LETTER

Fort Colville, June 1st, 1846.

REV. FATHER,—While I remained at Fort Vancouver, I baptized upwards of sixty persons, during a dangerous sickness which raged in the country. The majority of those who received baptism, died with all the marks of sincere conversion. On the 27th of July, I baptized nine children at Fort Okinagane[277]—the children of the chief of the Sioushwaps were of the number. He appeared full of joy at seeing a _Black-gown_ direct his course towards their country. On the 29th I left Okinagane, and followed the company. Every night I prayed with the whites and Indians. On the road three old men came to me, and earnestly begged me to “_take pity on them, and prepare them for heaven_!” Having instructed them in the duties and principles of religion, and the necessity of baptism, I administered to them, and to forty-six {224} children of the same tribe, what seemed to be the height of their desires, the holy Sacrament of regeneration.

On the 11th of August, a tribe of Indians, residing about the Upper Lake on Thompson’s River, came to meet me.[278] They exhibited towards me all the marks of sincere and filial attachment. They followed me several days to hear my instructions, and _only departed_ after having exacted a promise that I would return in the course of the following autumn or winter, and make known to them the glad tidings of salvation.

At the Fort of the Sioushwaps, I received a visit from all the chiefs, who congratulated me on my happy arrival amongst them.[279] They raised a great cabin to serve as a church, and as a place to teach them during my stay. I baptized twelve of their children. I was obliged, when the Salmon fishing commenced, to separate for some months from these dear Indians, and continue my route to New Caledonia.

I arrived at Fort Alexandria on the 25th.[280] All the tribes I met manifested towards me the same emotions of joy and friendship. To my surprise I found at the Fort a frame church. I returned in the fall and remained there a month, {225} engaged in all the exercises of our holy ministry. The Canadians performed their religious duties—I joined several in marriage, and administered to many the Holy Communion. Twenty-four children and forty-seven adults received baptism.

On the 2d of September, I ascended the river Frazer, and after a dangerous trip, arrived, on the 12th, at Fort George;[281] where the same joy and affection on the part of the Indians attended me. Fifty Indians had come down from the Rocky Mountains, and patiently awaited my arrival for nineteen days, in order to have the consolation of witnessing the ceremony of baptism. I baptized twelve of their children, and twenty-seven others, of whom six were adults advanced in age. I performed there the ceremonies of the planting of the Cross.

On the 14th, the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, I ascended the river Nesqually, and on the 24th, arrived at the Fort of Lake Stuart.[282] I spent eleven days in giving instructions to the Indians, and had the happiness of abolishing the custom of burning the dead, and that of inflicting torments upon the bodies of the surviving wives or husbands. They solemnly renounced all their juggling and idolatries. {226} Their great medicine-hall, where they used to practise their superstitious rites, was changed into a church. It was blessed and dedicated to God under the patronage of St. Francis Xavier.[283] The planting of the Cross was solemnly performed with all the ceremonies proper to such occasions. Sixteen children and five old men received baptism.

The 24th Oct., I visited the village of the Chilcotins.[284] This mission lasted twelve days, during which time I baptized eighteen children and twenty-four adults, and performed eight marriages. I blessed here the first cemetery, and buried, with all the ceremonies of the ritual, an Indian woman, the first converted to Christianity. I next visited two other villages of the same tribe—in the first I baptized twenty persons, of whom three were adults. In the second, two chiefs with thirty of their nation received baptism, and two were united in matrimony. Polygamy prevailed everywhere, and everywhere I succeeded in abolishing it. In a neighboring tribe I baptized fifty-seven persons, of whom thirty-one were adults. I also celebrated nine marriages.

After my return to the Sioushwaps, I baptized forty-one persons, of whom eleven were adults. I visited five more villages among the {227} neighboring tribes, amongst whom I baptized about two hundred persons. I performed the ceremony of the planting of the Cross, in eight different places, and founded four frame churches which were constructed by the savages.

On an average, each village or tribe consists of about two hundred souls.

In the neighborhood of Fort Alexandria the number
of souls amounts to 1255
About Fort George, 343
In the neighborhood of Frazer’s Lake, 258
” ” Stuart’s Lake, 211
” ” McLeod’s Lake, 80
” ” Fort Babine, 1190
” ” Bear Lake,[285] 801
----
Total number of souls, 4138

Population on Thompson’s river, or on the land of the Sioushwaps or Atnass.[286]

The number of Sioushwaps, so called, is 583
” of Okinaganes, 685
Population on the North Branch, 525
” on Lake Superior, 322
” at the Fountain of Frazer Lake, 1127
Number of Knife Indians, 1530
----
Total number of souls, 4772

I remain, reverend Father, yours, &c.,

_J. Nobili, S. J._

No. XIX

A. M. D. G.

Fort Walla-Walla, July 18th, 1846.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL,—I accepted the kind offer of Mr. Lewes, and took my seat in one of the barges of the Hudson Bay Company, on its way to Fort Vancouver. We stopped at Fort Okinagane, where I administered baptism to forty-three persons, chiefly children. Our passage was very pleasant and agreeable. I have little to add to what I have already stated in my preceding letters of last year, respecting our residence at Saint Francis Xavier’s, and the other Catholic establishments in the Willamette Valley and vicinity. St. James’ Church at Vancouver, St. John’s in Oregon City, St. Mary’s at the Convent, and St. Francis Xavier’s chapel have all been opened for divine service. The new church among the Canadians, and Cathedral, were fast progressing. The number of children in the Sisters’ school {229} had greatly increased, and a change for the better already taken place among the little metis girls confided to their care. Sister Loyola, the Superior, appeared delighted with their present conduct. Two Protestant families, among the most respectable in Oregon, Dr. Long and lady and Judge Burnet and family, were received into the bosom of the Catholic Church, in Oregon City.[287] Archbishop Blanchet and companions were anxiously expected; may the Lord speed them, and grant them a happy passage on the boisterous ocean—a route which, it appears, they have selected in order to reach their destined new homes. O, how large is the vineyard!—the Island of Vancouver alone contains upwards of twenty thousand Indians, ready to receive our missionaries—and an extensive field awaits the laborers, among the numerous nations of the north-west coast. The visits paid to these various tribes, by the _Black-gowns_, and the affection and kindness with which they are received by the Indians, leave little doubt of the ultimate success of their holy enterprise.

In order to return to the upper Missions, I started in the beginning of July, from Fort Vancouver, two days after the brigade of the Hudson Bay Company had left it. An accident {230} by the way, fortunately not attended with more serious consequences, here occurred to me. A powder-horn exploded near me accidentally, scorching me severely, and completely stripping the skin from my nose, cheeks and lips—leaving me to all appearance, after all my travels, a raw-faced mountaineer. I procured an Indian canoe, well-mounted, and soon found myself during a thunder storm, in the great gap of the Cascade Mountains, through which the mighty Columbia winds its way. The sublime and the romantic appear to have made a grand effort for a magnificent display in this spot. On both sides of the stream perpendicular walls of rock rise in majestic boldness—small rills and rivulets, innumerable crystalline streams pursue their way; murmuring down on the steep declivities, they rush and leap from cascade to cascade, after a thousand gambols, adding, at last, their foaming tribute to the turbulent and powerful stream. The imposing mass of waters has here forced its way between a chain of volcanic, towering mountains, advancing headlong with an irresistible impetuosity, over rocky reefs, and prostrate ruins, for a distance of about four miles; forming the dangerous, and indeed the last remarkable obstruction—the {231} great cascades of the Columbia. There is an interesting, and very plausible Indian account of the formation of these far-famed cascades, on which so much has been said and written, so many conjectures regarding earth-slides, sinks, or swells, caused by subterraneous volcanic agents. “Our grandfathers,” said an Indian to me, “remember the time when the waters passed here quietly, and without obstruction, under a long range of towering and projecting rocks, which, unable to bear their weight any longer, crumbled down, thus stopping up and raising the bed of the river; here it overflowed the great forests of cedar and pine, which are still to be seen above the cascades.” Indeed, the traveller beholds with astonishment, a great number of huge trunks of trees, still standing upright in water about twenty feet deep. No person, in my opinion, can form a just idea of the cause that produced these remarkable changes, without admitting the Indian narrative.

My baggage was soon conveyed to the upper end of the portage. The distance from the cascades to the dalles is about forty-five miles, and is without any obstacle. The mountain scenery on both sides of the river, with its {232} clusters of shrubs, cedars and pines, is truly delightful, heightened occasionally by the sight of the snow-capped Mounts Hood and St. Helena. A favorable breeze made us unfurl two blankets for the want of sails, and as we were gliding rapidly up the stream, we observed several islands of volcanic formation, where the Indians deposit their dead on scaffolds, or in little huts made of pieces of split cedar, frequently covered with mats and boards; great care is taken to hinder birds of prey, or the rapacious wolves, with their hyena stomachs and plundering propensities, from breaking in upon the abode of the dead.

The third day we arrived at the great dalles. Indians flock thither from different quarters of the interior, to attend, at this season of the year, to the salmon fisheries. This is their glorious time for rejoicing, gambling, and feasting; the long lent is passed; they have at last assembled in the midst of abundance—all that the eye can see, or the nose smell, is fish, and nothing but fish. Piles of them are lying everywhere on the rocks, the Indian huts abound with them, and the dogs are dragging and fighting over the offal in all directions. Not less than eight hundred Indians were present on this occasion. {233} One who has seen them five years ago, poor and almost naked, and who beholds them now, discovers with a peculiar feeling of humor and delight, the entire change in their external appearance, a complete metamorphosis, as Ovid would say. Their dresses are of the most grotesque character, regardless alike of their appropriateness to sex or condition of life. A masquerade character, as we understand it, will at least exhibit unity of design; but this Indian masquerade sets all unities at defiance. A stout, swarthy Indian, steps proudly by you, apparently conscious of the dignity conferred on him by his new acquisitions—a roundabout much too small for him, a pair of tights with straps, with an intervening space showing the absence of linen, form his body dress, while an old fashioned lady’s night-cap with large frills, and if he be rich enough, a sailor’s glazed cap carefully balanced above it, constitute his head dress; a pair, and sometimes half a pair of brogans, complete the ludicrous appearance of this Indian dandy. Some appear parading thro’ the camp in the full dress of a wagoner, others in a mixture composed of the sailor’s, the wagoner’s, and the lawyer’s, arranged according to fancy; but the favorite article of ornamental {234} dress appears to be the night-cap with its large frills; some again with only one article of dress. I have seen an old Indian showing off a pair of boots to the best advantage, as they formed the only article of his wardrobe then on his person. Indian squaws are seen attired in long calico gowns, little improved by the copious addition of fish oil, with which the taste or negligence of the present owners besmeared them; occasionally, if they can afford it, to this is superadded a vest, a flannel or great-coat. The dalles at present, form a kind of masquerading thoroughfare, where emigrants and Indians meet, it appears, for the purpose of affording mutual aid. When the Oregon emigrants arrive here, they are generally in want of provisions, horses, canoes, and guides—these wants the Indians supply, receiving in exchange the old travelling clothes of the doctors, lawyers, farmers, Germans, Frenchmen, Spaniards, &c., that pass through the dalles on their westward route. Hence the motley collection of pants, coats, boots, of every form and size, comforters, caps and hats of every fashion.

Here I overtook Messrs. Lewes and Manson,[288] who kindly offered me a place in one of the barges of the Company, which I gladly accepted—the transportation of their boats and goods {235} had taken up a whole day. From the great dalles to the upper sources of the Columbia, great care and attention are to be had in its navigation, for it presents a constant succession of rapids, falls, cascades, and dalles. Men of great experience, are here employed as pilots, and notwithstanding their skill and precaution, no river probably on the globe, frequented as much, could tell of more disastrous accidents.

At the dalles you enter a barren region, where drift wood is brought into every encampment by the Indians, for which they gladly receive a piece of tobacco in return. In the absence of the savages, the tombs of the dead are sometimes shamefully pillaged by civilized _Christian_ travellers, taking away the very boards that cover the dead bodies, and thus leave them the prey of vultures and crows.

Indians linger on the Columbia as long as a salmon can be caught. Unconscious of the approaching winter, they do not lay in sufficient stock of provisions, and till late in the fall they may be seen picking up the dead and dying fishes which float in great numbers on the surface. In the immediate neighborhood of a camp the air is infected with the scent of {236} salmon in a state of putrefaction; they are suspended on trees, or on scaffolds, and to this unwholesome and detestable food has the improvident Indian recourse, when the days of his long lent commence.

You can scarcely form an idea of the deplorable condition of the poor petty tribes, scattered along the banks of the Columbia, of which the numbers visibly diminish from year to year. Imagine their dwellings, a few poor huts, constructed of rush, bark, bushes, or of pine branches, sometimes covered with skins or rags—around these miserable habitations lie scattered in profusion the bones of animals, and the offal of fishes of every tribe, amidst accumulated filth of every description. In the interior, you find roots piled up in a corner, skins hanging from cross poles, and fish boiling over the fire, a few dying embers; an axe to cut wood being seldom found among them. The whole stock of kitchen utensils, drinking vessels, dishes, etc., are comprised in something like a fish-kettle, made of osier, and besmeared with gum—to boil this kettle stones are heated red hot and thrown into it. But the mess cooked in this way, can you guess what it is? No, not in twenty trials—it is impossible to divine what {237} the ingredients are that compose this outlandish soup!

But to pass from the _material_ to the _personal_; what strange figures! faces thickly covered with grease and dirt—heads that have never felt a comb—hands! but such hands! a veritable pair of “jack of all trades,” fulfilling in rapid succession, the varied functions of the comb, the pocket-handkerchief, the knife, fork, and spoon—while eating, the process is loudly indicated by the crackling and discordant sounds that issue from the nose, mouth, throat, etc., a sight, the bare recollection of which is enough to sicken any person. Thus you can form some idea of their personal miseries—miseries, alas! that faintly image another species infinitely more saddening; for what shall I say in attempting to describe their moral condition? There prevails among the greater part of them, a kind of superstitious idolatry, (called medicine or juggling), that pays homage to the vilest animals; a degeneracy of morals which knows no stronger tie in conjugal obligations, than the caprice of the moment—a vehement, inordinate passion for gambling, that is prolonged to the time of repose—a laziness which nothing can induce them to shake off but the love of play, {238} or the pressing claim of hunger—they are in fine, addicted to the vilest habits of gluttony, dissimulation, etc. Such is the wretched condition of the poor savage tribes, along the Columbia. But amidst all this misery, there is fortunately one redeeming feature, a constant desire to discover some power superior to man; this disposition renders them attentive to the least word that seems to convey the slightest knowledge of a Supreme Being, and hence the facility with which they believe anything that at all resembles the Word of God.

Very reverend and dear Father, your humble and obedient servant,

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

No. XX

A. M. D. G.

St. Ignatius, near the Kalispel Bay, July 26th, 1846.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL,—The eighth day after my departure from Fort Vancouver, I landed safely at Walla Walla, with the goods destined for the different missions. In a few days all was ready, and having thanked the good and kind-hearted Mr. McBride,[289] the Superintendent of the Fort, who had rendered me every assistance in his power, we soon found ourselves on the way to the mountains leading a band of pack mules and horses over a sandy dry plain, covered with bunch grass and wormwood. We made about sixteen miles and encamped for the night, in a beautiful little meadow, watered by the Walla Walla river, where we found abundance of grass for our animals—these were soon unloaded and left free to graze {240} at leisure; we next made a fire, put on the camp-kettle, stretched the bed, consisting of a buffalo-robe, and smoked together the friendly Indian pipe, whilst supper was preparing. We found ourselves at home and perfectly at ease in less than a quarter of an hour. The evening was clear and beautiful—not a cloud—our sleep, sound and refreshing, prepared us for an early start at dawn of day. We had a day’s march, with pack animals, over an undulating plain, before we could reach the crossing of the Nez-percé or Lewis fork,[290] whose source is in the angle of the Rocky and Snowy Mountains, between the 42d and 44th degrees, near the sources of the western Rio Colorado, the Platte, the Yellow Stone, and the Missouri rivers: its western course till it reaches the Blue Mountains, and hence its northern direction till it joins the Columbia, together with its principal tributaries, are sufficiently known to you, and have been amply described already.

We found about a dozen Indian lodges called the Palooses, a portion of the Sapetan or Nez-percé tribe.[291] We procured from the Indians here some fresh salmon, for which we made them ample return in powder and lead. But as the grass was withered and scanty, and the {241} pilfering dispositions of these Indians rather doubtful, we resolved on proceeding eight or ten miles farther, and encamped late in the evening on the Pavilion river.[292] The Nez-percé and Spokane plain is at least a thousand feet elevated above the bed of the river. It is dry, stony, undulating, covered with bunch and nutritious grass, with prickly pear and wormwood. The basaltic and volcanic formations which extend through the whole of this region, are really wonderful. We frequently passed ponds and small lakes embedded between walls of basaltic rocks—immense ranges of dark shining pillars, as if forced from the bosom of the plain, extend for some miles, resembling, not unfrequently, forts and ancient ruined cities and castles. We encamped several times near small but beautiful lakes, where ducks and geese, with their young broods, were swimming in great numbers. The Indians frequent these regions in search of the bitter and camash roots, very abundant here. In every one of their old encampments we observed great quantities of prairie-turtle shells, a proof of their being numerous and serving as food for the savages. Pheasants or quails were very abundant—we daily killed what we wanted for our meals.

{242} On the fifth day of our departure from Walla Walla, we reached the Spokane river,[293] and found a good fording for our animals. You will see with pleasure the chart I have made of the head waters of this river, which, though beautiful and interesting, is yet, like all the other rivers in Oregon, almost an unbroken succession of rapids, falls, and cascades, and of course ill-adapted in its present condition to the purposes of navigation. The two upper valleys of the Cœur d’Alene are beautiful, and of a rich mould; they are watered by two deep forks, running into the Cœur d’Alene lake, a fine sheet of water, of about thirty miles in length by four or five broad, from which the river Spokane derives its source. I called the two upper forks the St. Joseph’s and the St. Ignatius. They are formed by innumerable torrents, descending from the Pointed-Heart mountains, a chain of the Rocky Mountains.[294] The two upper valleys are about sixty or eighty miles long, and four or eight miles broad. I counted upwards of forty little lakes in them. The whole neighborhood of the Spokane river affords very abundant grazing, and in many sections is tolerably well timbered with pines of different species.

{243} On leaving the river we ascended by a steep Indian path. A few miles’ ride across a pine forest brings you to a beautiful valley, leading to Colville, agreeably diversified by plains and forests, hemmed in by high wooded mountains, and by huge picturesque rocks towering their lofty heads over all the rest. Fountains and rivulets are here very numerous. After about thirty miles, we arrived at the foot of the Kalispel Mountain, in the neighborhood of St. Francis Regis, where already about seventy metis or half-breeds have collected to settle permanently. Several of them accompanied me across the mountain, the height of which is about five thousand feet above the level of the plain. Its access is very easy on the western side; on the eastern, the narrow path winds its snake-like course through a steep and dense forest.—After a march of about eight hours we arrived at the beautiful Kalispel Bay, on the margin of lake De Boey, almost in sight of the _Reduction_ of St. Ignatius.—My letter to Mrs. P.,[295] which I insert here will make you acquainted with the whole history of that mission.

I remain, with the profoundest respect and {244} esteem, Very Rev. Father Provincial, your humble and obedient servant,

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

A. M. D. G.

St. Ignatius, July 25th, 1846.