Whitman now decided that the auspicious moment had arrived to take the important step that had been uppermost in his mind since his return from the Rocky Mountains. He was of a sanguine temperament and optimistic by nature, with supreme confidence in his ability to overcome obstacles; in the vital matter now in hand he felt confident of success, but was anxious to know what the result would be.

With this purpose in view he mounted his horse and rode hurriedly to the Prentiss home, finding the Judge out but Narcissa there. Entering the sitting room, he took a seat and without any preliminaries remarked, "Well, Narcissa, everything is arranged and the party will start for the great undertaking in just one month from now. I said the party was complete, which is not quite correct; there is yet one vacancy and I have come, Narcissa, to ask you to fill it by becoming the wife of Marcus Whitman, leader of the party.

"I need not tell you that you hold a higher place in my estimation than any other living mortal; your womanly intuition has long ago made you aware of that. I also believe that you entertain for me a feeling of uncommon friendship, at least—if not more. Am I right or wrong? Answer me, Narcissa."

"Marcus, this is so abrupt you almost take my breath away, but I will be just as frank," she replied. "I will go with you."

Taking her hands in his and gazing into the depths of her beaming blue eyes he exclaimed, "I felt in my soul that you would." Drawing her nearer and enfolding her in his arms, he imprinted a seal of affection on her lips.

* * *

Both were naturally well fitted for the task of bringing the light of the gospel and the advantages of civilization to the Indians. Marcus Whitman was strong and rugged, with an unlimited capacity for work; and although a physician, the missionary life appealed to him much more than the practice of his profession, due probably to natural inclination and his early training. A knowledge of medicine was a valuable aid in a region without professional men.

Narcissa Prentiss was in full health and vigor, capable of enduring the privations and hardships incident to such a life, and of an intensely religious temperament. She left home, friends and every association dear to the majority of womankind, and set forth on a tremendous journey across deserts and over mountain ranges—the way beset by difficulties and dangers—in order to lend a helping hand in carrying the "tidings of great joy" to the natives of the far Northwest.

A great deal of spoken and written eulogy has been bestowed upon the devotion to duty, courage and fortitude of Marcus Whitman—unquestionably in great part well merited. So far, little has been said in praise of the noble qualities of head and heart possessed by his wife and coworker in the Lord's vineyard. But as time goes on I have no doubt that historians and poets will exalt her virtues and sing her praises.

The marriage ceremony in the Presbyterian Church at Angelica, N.Y., in February, 1836, was very quiet and simple, as both were opposed to any undue publicity. But when the members of the congregation became aware that the missionary party was about to start, it was arranged to have a farewell party and services on the eve of its departure. The little church was crowded to capacity; not only was nearly every member present, but many who were not affiliated came to bid farewell and Godspeed to this universally beloved member of the community, which had been the home of the Prentiss family since 1834.

She took her usual place as leader of the choir, while the eyes of all were riveted upon the pleasing countenance and attractive form of the one who was about to leave them—perhaps forever. After the services and singing of appropriate hymns, a time for greetings was announced; and the whole congregation surged forward, each anxious to grasp the hand and say a personal word to her whom they loved so well and were reluctant to let go. Before being dismissed, all were asked to join in a parting hymn selected for the occasion.

Narcissa led the singing, and when the last verse—beginning with the words, "Yes, my native land, I love thee"—was begun, audible sobs were heard through the audience. Before it was finished the pent-up feelings of the assemblage were unloosed, and the genuine feeling of sorrow became contagious; handkerchiefs were pulled out, and there was scarcely a dry eye in the audience. Only the voice of Narcissa carried the words all the way through; but she never faltered until it was finished, when she also gave way to the prevailing emotion.

Rev. Henry H. Spalding and his wife were selected by the American Board of Home Missions to accompany Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. For some time past the Spaldings had been engaged in missionary work in the State of Ohio from where, upon the arrival of the Whitmans from New York State, the four proceeded to Liberty, Missouri, the point at which final arrangements for the western journey were to be completed.

The Board of Commissioners probably did not take the precaution of consulting Dr. Whitman as to his choice of companions for the great task they were entering upon; could Narcissa have had any voice in the matter, the Spaldings would certainly not have gone with them. It is to be regretted, for the good of the cause, that such an appointment was made, as subsequent events will explain. W. H. Gray, a mechanic, was also designated by the Board to accompany the missionaries.

Rev. Mr. Spalding was a stockily built man of medium height, with a large head and rather high forehead; and was a voracious reader, especially of books on religious and controversial topics. Although rated, even by his admirers, as a "peculiar" man, he accomplished commendable results in the mission field for nearly 40 years. Mr. Spalding died August 3, 1874, in his 71st year, and is buried in the Nez Perces country a few miles from Lewiston, Idaho.

His wife, Eliza Hart Spalding, was rather tall and angular, and though not possessing regular features, had a kindly and intelligent expression that won many friends. She had the gift of knowing how to gain the respect and confidence of the Indians, and was conspicuously successful as a teacher among them. Gray was a self-important person, with quite a smattering of learning, but inclined to be self-willed and even insubordinate.

These men and women established the first Indian Missions in the vast region between the Rocky Mountains and the Cascade Range, nearest the tribes who had sent the delegation to St. Louis in 1831, seeking a knowledge of the Christian faith. About the time the missionaries arrived at Liberty, a number of hunters and trappers in the employ of the American Fur Company, under the leadership of two experienced frontiersmen, Milton G. Sublette and Thomas Fitzpatrick, were assembled there preparing to leave for the Rocky Mountain region on a trading and fur-hunting expedition.

By this good fortune, the missionaries were able to travel in the company of a well-equipped outfit, without fear of molestation by roving bands of Indians on the way. But not everything required for the long journey had been secured in time to start with the larger party, which set out two days in advance. Whitman determined to catch up with the fur hunters before reaching the most dangerous part of the route, which he did.

Many days were consumed in traversing the bad roads of western Missouri, which in the spring in those pioneer days were full of ruts and mud-holes; and the Doctor was the only one of the party with any previous experiences in that kind of travel. Early in May they were on the west side of the Missouri River with their wagons, horses and cattle all in fairly good shape, but on the south side of the Platte near its mouth. The latter was nearly a mile wide, and the crossing of it a very formidable undertaking; but it had to be done, for the Trail continued westward on the north side.

That might be termed the real starting point on the expedition, as there every vestige of civilization was left behind, and immense plains and great mountain ranges inhabited only by Indians and wild animals, extended far out before them. It was a perilous trip in those days, even for men fond of adventure and thoroughly accustomed to hardships.

But in the company were two refined and educated women leaving friends, kindred and the comforts of civilized life to undergo the discomforts and face the hazards of the long journey. It was a noble courage, and heroism of the rarest type. Their names should be held in high veneration by the Christian people of this land for all time to come; and I believe they will be.

The crossing of the Platte was difficult and wearing; and the burden of it fell upon Dr. Whitman, as Rev. Mr. Spalding was ill and unable to help. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding were taken over in a "bull boat," a contrivance made by stretching a buffalo hide over small willow growths. In the process of making, the larger ends were stuck in the ground, and the smaller ones interlapped, after which a fresh hide was fastened over them and allowed to dry. Then the ends of the willows were pulled out of the ground, it was turned upside down—and called a "boat."

Though a very risky affair in which to cross a wide river, there was no other available conveyance; so they entered it, at least with a show of confidence, and were carried safely over. An entire day was required to get the outfit to the other side; Whitman was obliged to swim back and forth several times, and by evening was completely exhausted.

Early the next morning a start was made and the animals were urged forward at the utmost speed under the circumstances, to overtake the fur-hunters before the Pawnee villages were passed, as unfriendly Indians might be encountered beyond. I will not enter into a detailed account of the many events of interest on their way over the great plains, but cannot refrain from mentioning a few outstanding features of the journey.

When they came within sight of the Elkhorn, a tributary of the Platte, it presented a very menacing appearance at the height of the flood-water season. Arriving first at the river, the Indian boys Whitman had taken back with him the preceding winter saw a skin canoe on the farther side; completely stripping, they wound their shirts around their heads and swam over, returning with the canoe by the time the rest of the party came up to the bank. A rope was then stretched across, and the goods hauled over in the canoe without much difficulty.

Those Indian boys were very useful to the missionary party in driving the loose stock, herding, guarding at night and in many other ways. They seemed more than willing to render assistance whenever the occasion called for it; and in initiative were equal if not superior to white youth of the same age.

About a hundred miles east of the "Rendezvous," the party fell in with a large number of Indians belonging to tribes west of the Rockies who came over the mountains every year to hunt buffalo. Some of them had met the Doctor on his previous trip, and remembered his intention of bringing missionaries to instruct them in the white man's way of worshipping; now they manifested great pleasure at meeting the little party on the way to fulfill the promise made the year before.

The ladies especially aroused the curiosity and wonder of the savages, who now for the first time beheld a white woman. No sooner had Mrs. Whitman alighted from her horse than a number of the native matrons came forward to welcome her; each one of them shook hands with her, and at the same time placing the left hand affectionately upon her shoulder, gave her a hearty kiss. Mrs. Spalding was greeted in a similar manner.

Both were deeply moved by the cordiality and sincerity of their welcome by those Indian women, and greatly surprised to learn from this experience that they have about the same manner of salutation as their civilized white sisters. It goes to show that regardless of climate or color, human nature is about the same the world over.

One of the chiefs present when the ladies arrived soon took his departure, and returning in a short time with his wife, introduced her to both of them—with a wave of the right hand towards his squaw and the left towards the white women, at the same time bowing politely. When the tents were pitched and occupied by Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding after the fatigue of the horseback ride, some of the Indians, with unabated curiosity, remained in the vicinity and were occasionally bold enough to peep in and then grin with astonishment.

Arriving at the "Rendezvous," a long-to-be-remembered sight was presented to their eyes. There were assembled hundreds of trappers, hunters, traders and packers—in fact all kinds of mountain men—some of whom had not seen a white woman in more than twenty years; and there must also have been some fifteen hundred or two thousand Indians who had traveled there to trade with the American Fur Company. All of them, white men and Indians alike, were intent upon having a good look at the first two white women who had ever penetrated that far into the wilderness, and were to traverse another thousand miles or so of rough country before reaching their destination.

Mrs. Whitman thoroughly enjoyed the novelty and excitement of the strange situation. Some of the mountain men ventured to approach her and offer some kind of a compliment, which amused her exceedingly; but she always answered them with gracious and cordial bearing, and thus became very popular with these semi-wild and reckless frontiersmen.

Mrs. Spalding was more interested in the appearance of the natives among whom she had come to teach, and anxious to acquire a knowledge of the Nez Perces language. Somewhat from anxiety to see how she would act, the Indians gathered around her while she tried as best she could to converse with them.

Before the departure of the missionary company for the Columbia River, a grand reception and display was planned in its honor. On the appointed day, the Indian warriors formed a procession in gala dress at one end of the plain, each of the four tribes being represented by a company in fighting costume—which was breech-clout, with plenty of paint and feathers. All were mounted on well-shaped Indian horses, which though not large were spirited and active.

These fighting braves carried their weapons, and in addition many had drums, horns and other noise-making instruments. When everything was in readiness the command was given, and there burst forth from every painted warrior such a wild and terrifying yell as only aborigines can utter; then, joining in a mighty chorus of barbarous song, the cavalcade charged down the valley at frantic speed, brandishing their weapons and beating drums.

Reaching the farther end of the valley, they whirled around and dashed back with equal impetuosity, afterwards performing skilful evolutions in front of the missionary tents. The whole maneuver was conducted like a preconcerted military movement, the force of six or seven hundred Indians obeying the signals of the leaders with machine-like precision.

All members of the missionary party had assembled in front of their tents before this torrent of furious savages approached and swept by them with wild gesticulations. Their bronze bodies glistened in the summer sun and quivered with the great excitement under which they labored in this mimic attack upon an imaginary foe.

In front of the rushing columns rode a huge warrior of the Snake tribe, known as "Big Foot," more than six feet tall and well proportioned. His horse was much larger than the ponies of the other Indians (most of whom rode bareback); and he had a saddle of the Mexican pattern, probably secured during a foray into the settlements of New Mexico Territory.

He raised in his stirrups, whirling a Spanish musketoon and yelling like a demon, his voice being heard above all the din and uproar. The whole performance was so realistic that before it ended the nerves of the women were severely tried; and at its conclusion the Indians crowded around the tents to further gratify their curiosity.

The missionaries rested for a few days at the Rendezvous on Green River and then set out for Fort Hall with only one wagon, the other having been abandoned by necessity farther east. At the fort, then owned by the Hudson's Bay Company, they were very kindly received, but told that it would be virtually impossible to travel any farther with the wagon. However, on account of Mrs. Spalding's delicate health, Whitman determined not to give it up until absolutely necessary.

Owing to the deep sand and large sage-brush about twenty miles below American Falls on the Snake River, and the extremely rocky surface of the hills, he was obliged to leave the box and rear wheels there, converting the remainder into a cart which he managed to take as far as Fort Boise, where that also was abandoned. With the wagon-box was left something far more valuable to Narcissa Whitman—a little trunk which she dearly prized as a present from her sister Harriet. Here is the way she laments the loss of it:

Friday evening

Dear Harriet:

The little trunk you gave me has come with me so far, and now I must leave it alone. Poor little trunk! I am sorry to leave you. Twenty miles below the Falls on Snake River shall be thy place of rest, x x x x. Narcissa.

My good friends, before proceeding farther with my story I must tell you that about three years ago I visited the home of Judge Prentiss in New York State; and the fine old gentleman accorded me the great privilege of copying the voluminous correspondence written by his daughter on the journey across the Continent and during the years spent at the Mission station until her unhappy death. I will at times quote her exact words describing events intimately connected with her missionary labors.

She possessed the rare gift of expressing in the most lucid language the condition of her feelings regarding the many trials and afflictions it was her lot to bear during their life at Waiilatpu. I have with me copies of all these letters; and will now read her description of the crossing of Snake River, as must be done more than once in your own journey to the "Promised Land":

Preparing to cross Snake River. The river is divided by two islands into three branches, and is fordable. The packs are placed on the tallest horses, and in this way we crossed without wetting. Husband had difficulty with the cart, which was turned upside down in the river, and the mules entangled with the harness. The mules would have been drowned but for a desperate struggle to get them ashore. Then after putting two of the horses before the cart, and two men swimming behind to steady it, they succeeded in getting it over.

I once thought crossing streams would be the worst part of the journey. I now do so without fear. There is one manner of crossing—take an elk skin and stretch it over you, spreading yourself out as much as possible. Let the Indian women put you on the water, and with a cord in the mouth they swim and draw you to the other side.

In four or five days more of travel they arrived at Fort Boise, where the Snake River had to be recrossed. Again I will quote Mrs. Whitman:

22nd.

Left the Fort yesterday, came a short distance to Snake River; crossed and encamped for the night. The river has three branches divided by islands. The first and second places were deep but we had no difficulty in crossing on horseback. The third was deeper still.

This being a fishing post of the Indians, we found a canoe made of rushes and willows. Mrs. Spalding and myself placed ourselves and our saddles in it, and two Indians on horseback with a rope towed us over. The canoe is made of bunches of rushes tied together and attached to a frame made of a few sticks of small willows. It was large enough to hold us and our saddles.

The cart which had been brought from the Falls of Snake River especially for the accommodation of Mrs. Spalding was abandoned here and the remainder of the trip to Fort Walla Walla made on horseback. No serious mishaps befell the little party on this part of the journey, although it was an exceedingly rugged and difficult region to traverse. They were tendered a very kindly reception at the fort by the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a boat was secured to convey them down the magnificent river to Fort Vancouver.

At forts Hall, Walla Walla and Vancouver, where the missionaries were guests of the great fur company, all were greatly interested in the two refined and educated American women who had the pluck and hardihood to undertake such a long and hazardous journey. Upon reaching the head of the rapids above The Dalles of the Columbia, Mrs. Whitman gives an interesting account of what had to be done to pass safely that formidable obstacle to their progress. She says:

8th.

Came last night to the Chute (above The Dalles), a fall in the river not navigable. There we slept, and this morning made the portage. All were obliged to land, unload, carry our baggage and even the boat for half a mile.

I had frequently seen a picture of Indians carrying a canoe, but now saw the reality. We found plenty of Indians here to assist in making the portage. After loading several with our baggage and sending them on, the boat was turned over and placed upon the heads of about twenty of them, who easily marched off with it.

September 9th.

We came to The Dalles just before noon. Here our boat was stopped by two rocks of immense size and height, all the water of the river passing with great rapidity between them in a very narrow channel. We were obliged to land and make a portage of two and a half miles, carrying the boat again.

The Dalles is a great fishing resort for Indians of several tribes; we did not see many, however, for they had just left.

DR. JOHN McLOUGHLIN, CHIEF FACTOR OF THE HUDSON'S BAY COMPANY, WELCOMING MRS. MARCUS WHITMAN AND MRS. HENRY H. SPALDING AT FORT VANCOUVER ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER, IN THE FALL OF 1836: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE
DR. JOHN McLOUGHLIN, CHIEF FACTOR OF THE HUDSON'S BAY COMPANY, WELCOMING
MRS. MARCUS WHITMAN AND MRS. HENRY H. SPALDING AT FORT VANCOUVER
ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER, IN THE FALL OF 1836: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE

At Vancouver they were also cordially received and hospitably entertained by that grand old man, Dr. John McLoughlin. It was a never to be forgotten sight for me to observe this representative of the all-powerful English fur company, of towering stature and knightly dignity, standing with hat in hand at the portal of the fort graciously bending to salute and welcome the two first white women to set foot upon the immense territory over which he then held undisputed sway. It was not a mere formal greeting, but a genuine expression of satisfaction to see devoted men and women coming into the territory to improve both the spiritual and temporal condition of his Indian wards, in whose welfare he was deeply interested—for McLoughlin was by nature benevolent.

In consultation with Whitman, he advised the latter to establish his Mission somewhere east of the Cascade Mountains, for the reason that the Indians of the interior were mentally and physically superior to those near the coast, as well as more likely to adopt the rudiments of civilization and accept Christianity from the missionaries. Thereupon Whitman, Spalding and Gray returned up the Columbia to the vicinity of Fort Walla Walla for the purpose of selecting a site, while the women remained at Fort Vancouver as Dr. McLoughlin's guests until a Mission House could be erected.

After looking over the country for several days they decided that a point called Waiilatpu, on the Walla Walla River about thirty miles from its mouth, would be a desirable location for a Mission, as it was convenient to the habitat of the Cayuse and Walla Walla tribes and reasonably near the headquarters of the Hudson's Bay Company for that vicinity, in case trouble should arise. Work was immediately begun upon the construction of a comfortable log dwelling roofed with poles covered with straw and dirt thrown upon the top, which very well suited the purpose for which it was intended.

A site for another Mission to be in charge of Rev. Mr. Spalding was located among the Nez Perces on the Clearwater River about 100 miles northeast of Waiilatpu. Mr. Spalding then returned to Fort Vancouver for the ladies, while Dr. Whitman continued work on the dwelling. In about three weeks Mrs. Whitman arrived at Waiilatpu, and the Spaldings went on to the Clearwater.

At this isolated and unattractive Mission in the midst of uncivilized and unappreciative aborigines, practically shut off from people of her own race and tongue, Narcissa Whitman spent eleven long weary years in the prime of her young womanhood, endeavoring to enlighten the minds and improve and elevate the morals of the savages, with no hope or prospect of being rewarded in this life, except by the consciousness of doing the utmost for her fellow mortals, and that her work might be pleasing in the eyes of God. The sacrifice of her own life was her only visible reward.

In 1839 a great sorrow fell upon the Whitman household. They had a beautiful little girl, an only child who was suddenly snatched away from her loving parents, without the slightest inkling of approaching danger or cause for apprehension. The poignancy of Mrs. Whitman's grief was intensified by the peculiar circumstances surrounding them at the time.

She was in a wilderness inhabited by cruel and treacherous Indians, cut off by nearly three thousand miles from the old home and her own family, with only Dr. Whitman to lend a helping hand or console her with a loving voice; and he was overwhelmed with pressing duties. Her anguish was beyond description, but with true Christian courage and exalted faith she bowed to the Divine will. What sublime resignation!

I have a copy of the characteristic letter she wrote to her father on that sorrowful occasion, from which I will now read:

Waiilatpu, Sept. 30, 1839.

MY DEAREST FATHER:

Doubtless before this you have heard through the Board of the melancholy death of our most precious and only child, Alice Clarissa. That we loved her most ardently is true, and we feel keenly the severe pangs of a separation from her. Yet it is the Lord that hath done it, and He has dealt with us as a tender parent deals with the children He loves. O, how often have I felt and thought what a privilege it would be, if I could see and unburden to my dear parents the sorrows of my broken and bleeding heart since we have been bereft of our dear, sweet babe.

Although deprived of this inestimable consolation yet, dearest father, I desire to ask you to unite with us in praise and gratitude to God who has so mercifully sustained me, and that when crushed to the earth because His hand lay heavily upon me, His grace was manifest to preserve and sustain my soul from murmuring or repining at His dealings with us.

This unspeakable consolation is ours, that our daughter is at rest in the bosom of Him who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, for of such in the kingdom of heaven." Young as she was, we could plainly see a manifest relish and enjoyment in singing and worship; the last month of her life she commenced learning to read, and improved rapidly.

I would describe to you if I could her bright, lively appearance on Sabbath morning, the day of her death. She had always slept with me until just a week before then, and that night she proposed, of her own accord, to sleep on the mat on the floor. This gave me a very strange and singular feeling, for I never before could persuade her to lie away from me, not even in her father's arms * * *. It being very warm, and because she preferred it, I let her sleep on the floor all night—but did not sleep much myself. Ever after this I made a bed for her by the side of mine, where I could lay my hand upon her.

Her appearance at worship in the family was deeply interesting. For some time she had been in the habit of selecting the hymn she wished us to sing, and that morning her choice was "Rock of Ages Cleft for Me." Oh, if dear father and mother could have seen with what animation she sang, and how her sweet voice soared above ours!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Dear father, when you sing this hymn think of me, for my thoughts do not recur to it without almost overcoming me and bringing fresh to my mind how she appeared when she last sang it.

NARCISSA.

That letter bears the impress of having been written by a superior woman suffering the keenest pangs of a mother's grief, yet bearing it with all the fortitude and resignation of the early Christian martyrs.

The tragedy happened on a Sabbath morning, while Dr. and Mrs. Whitman were reading the scriptures. Alice Clarissa went to bring some water from the river which flowed near-by the Mission House, as she had done many times before. She went from the house with a cup in each hand, bounding down to the river bank to fulfill her errand, and returned no more.

How it happened is simply conjecture, as there was no witness when the cold waters of the Walla Walla River fanned out the precious life of this first white American child born west of the Rocky Mountains. The little mound that marked her grave not far from the house was kept green and bedecked with flowers until the day of the massacre and destruction of the Mission.

The missionaries—particularly Rev. Mr. Spalding and Dr. Whitman—never worked in harmony after their arrival in the Indian country. It is said that the bitterness of Mr. Spalding against Mrs. Whitman continued from the time he was a suitor for her hand; and that the rankling of it led at least to a lack of co-operation on his part with his successful rival, the Doctor, in carrying on the Mission work. I will read a letter of Mrs. Whitman to her father, which throws a flood of light upon the subject:

Waiilatpu, Walla Walla River,
        Oregon Territory, Oct. 10, 1810.

MY DEAR FATHER:

The missionaries' greatest trials are but little known to the churches. I have never ventured to write about them for fear it might hurt. The man who came with us ought never to have come. My dear husband has suffered more in consequence of his wicked jealousy and great pique towards me than can be known in this world. Not he alone but the whole Mission suffers, which is most to be deplored. It has nearly broken up the Mission.

The pretended settlement with father before we started was only an excuse; and from all we have seen and heard, both during the journey and since we have been here, the same bitter feeling exists. * * *. I never did anything before I left home to injure him, and nothing since; and my husband is cautious in speaking and thinking evil of him or treating him unkindly; yet he does not, nor has he received the same kindness from him since we have been missionaries together.

Every mind in the Mission that he has had access to he has tried to prejudice against us, and did succeed for awhile, which was the cause of our being voted to remove and form a new station. This was too much for my husband's feelings to bear, and so many arrayed against him for no good reason. He felt as if he must leave the Mission, and no doubt would have done it had not the Lord removed from us our beloved child. This affliction softened his feelings and made him willing to submit to the will of the Lord, although we felt that we were suffering wrongfully.

The death of our babe had a great effect upon all in the Mission; it softened their hearts towards us, even Mr. S's for a season. * * * The Lord in His providence has brought things around in such a way that all see and feel where the evil lies. Some of them are writing to the Board; and it may require his removal or return to effect it, not so much for his treatment towards us as some others also.

* * *. I have long desired to have some few judicious friends know our trials, so that they may understand better how to pray for us. If this Mission fails, it will be because peace and harmony does not dwell among its members. Our ardent desire and prayer is that it may not fail. It is this state of things among us that discourage us. When we look at the people and the providence of God, we are more and more encouraged every year.

As ever, I remain, your affectionate daughter,

NARCISSA WHITMAN.

During the early days of the Mission the Whitmans devoted themselves almost exclusively to the difficult task of inducing the Indians to receive instruction in both spiritual and temporal matters. The Doctor was rough and ready in his manner, outspoken in his opinions and, particularly, vigorous in his actions; when the Indians did not do exactly as he thought they should, he openly showed his disapproval and scolded them.

This helps to explain why the Mission was not as successful as it might have been; but Whitman was nevertheless a thoroughly sincere and honest man, always prompted by high motives. Due somewhat to the lack of harmony in the establishment there, the Board finally concluded that Waiilatpu should be abandoned.

Very different indeed was the disposition of the lovable and sweet-tempered woman, Narcissa Whitman, his helpmate in the work. By kindly manner and tactful methods she endeared herself to those in her special charge, and was eminently successful in the care and management of children.

WHITMAN'S RIDE AND THE MASSACRE

Having learned that the Board had ordered the abandonment of two stations, including the one at Waiilatpu, Whitman asked the missionaries to convene at that place for consideration of what steps should be taken to have the order rescinded. Upon arrival of some of them, he called the meeting without awaiting the arrival of those coming from a greater distance, as he deemed the matter too urgent to be postponed even a day. It was decided to have the Doctor proceed immediately to the East to lay the whole matter before the Board.

Accordingly Whitman, accompanied by A. L. Lovejoy, left Waiilatpu October 3, 1842, on the long and afterward famous horseback ride over the Rocky Mountains and through the vast prairie country during the winter. He was the kind of man no dangers or difficulties could deter; and although he underwent great privations, successfully completed the trip.

His reception by the Board was by no means cordial; but in a forceful way he showed the serious consequences that would follow the abandonment of the Missions. Finally convinced by his logic, the Board rescinded the order, which action was the object for which the ride was undertaken. After that he visited his old home in New York State.

Westbound during May of the following year, Whitman overtook the 1843 emigrants somewhere along the Platte River and traveled with them as far as Fort Boise on the Snake River. Worried about affairs at Waiilatpu after so long absence, he then went on ahead.

From that time on the affairs of the Mission were still more unsatisfactory; and the Indians gradually became alarmed at the number of immigrants arriving in the country, bringing the measles and other diseases generally fatal to the natives. Whitman was very successful in treating his own people, but the great majority of affected Indians succumbed to the diseases contracted from the whites.

The more superstitious ones began to imagine that the Doctor was using "bad medicine" to kill them off so that his white brothers could have their lands, an idea which became an obsession with them. It did not bear fruit for awhile; but as time went on and conditions showed no signs of change, the foolish natives determined to destroy the station and kill the missionaries. The latter had been forewarned more than once by friendly Indians to be on their guard, as something desperate might happen; but they did not take it seriously.

On Monday, November 29th, the first of the fatal blows fell. Whitman was in the sitting room talking with Mrs. Osborne who lived in an adjoining room. An Indian came to the door, knocked and asked to see the Doctor about some medicine; he stepped into the outer room where several were assembled, and talked with them about their sick. While thus engaged one of them suddenly drew a tomahawk from beneath his blanket and delivered a crushing blow upon Whitman's head.

Then pandemonium broke loose, and with frightful yells the savages began the slaughter of the defenseless inmates. In only one instance was any resistance offered; when attacked by an Indian with a knife, the school-teacher grappled with his assailant and struggled for his life until dispatched by another of the natives.

Mrs. Whitman was shot through the breast by a renegade half-breed, Joe Lewis, and afterwards beaten over the head and face with clubs until life was extinct. She was the only woman slain, the others being made captive and confined in one of the Mission houses. The reign of terror continued through Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, with several other murders of the white people. Two seriously ill men were dragged out of their beds and clubbed in a most barbarous manner until they expired.

It is surprising that, wrought up to such a high state of frenzy against the Mission and its inmates, the Indians did not also massacre the fifty or more women and children who fell into their hands. Through the untiring efforts of Peter Skene Ogden, Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company, the latter were ransomed after a few weeks' captivity.

The Whitman Massacre was one of the saddest and most revolting episodes in the annals of missionary effort in North America. It cast a shadow over the land, and caused those who were active in the movement for the regeneration of the red men to almost abandon it in despair.

No doubt you think it strange that in telling you about the Oregon Country, its exploration and early settlement, I should have devoted so much time to the expeditions, labors and sufferings of the missionaries. But it was owing primarily to the initiative from those sources that the Pacific Northwest, with all of its wonderful resources and possibilities, became known to the people of "the States"; large numbers were thus encouraged to emigrate to it, aiding materially in bringing all of that vast region under the flag and within the dominion of our beloved country.

Otherwise the choicest portion of that territory would in all probability have passed into the possession of a foreign power. Is not that a good reason for occupying so much time in recounting their efforts and exploits? I will now give briefly a few of the outstanding incidents since the migration to the Oregon Country began in the wake of the missionaries.

THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT

In the spring of 1843, a kind of Provisional Government for the Oregon Country was organized at a meeting of settlers held at Champoeg in the Willamette Valley. Previous attempts had been made for that purpose, but owing to divergent views, they had ended in failure.

Now, however, at a gathering in March, 1843, called ostensibly for the purpose of taking steps to protect the settlement from predatory animals and known as the "Wolf Organization," a resolution was introduced and carried to appoint a committee of twelve to formulate a plan. At the meeting held on May 2nd attended by both British and American partisans, the vote was very close, the advocates of a Provisional Government winning by a slight margin.

It was so close that there was difficulty in determining which side had the majority; so after one or two unsuccessful attempts to decide by a viva voce vote, an agreement was reached to have a division and count—those in favor of the proposal going to the right, while those opposed went to the left. Joseph L. Meek, a man of splendid physique and the hero of many adventures in the Rockies, clad in the garb of the mountaineers, with sparkling eyes, a voice of command and the air of a Major General, stepped to a niche in history as he strode to his position crying out, "Who's for a divide! All in favor of the report and organization follow me."

The hunters and trappers who were present followed his lead, and so carried the day for the proponents of the measure. More than half the Americans present voted against it, because they (wrongfully) believed it a scheme of the Mission party to secure control of the organization. Were it not that quite a number of French-Canadians favorable to self-government voted in the affirmative, it would have lost.

On the following day, May 3rd, the Provisional Government was duly organized—a date and event long to be remembered. That government was ably and wisely carried on for a term of six years, until the United States assumed jurisdiction in 1849.

Dr. John McLoughlin recognized it, as he never would have done were it not worthy of respect. It demonstrated that the Oregon pioneers were capable, resourceful and not mere imitators of other men. Their deeds should be admired and their names venerated.

I might add that the entire white population of the Oregon Country at that time was only a little more than two hundred. But the tide had set in, and nearly five times that number were already assembled at different points on the Missouri River preparing to start overland.

THE 1843 MIGRATION

This was in many respects the most remarkable and important migration that ever left the Missouri River for the far Northwest. Although numerically far below those of the following years, it was the first company regularly organized to go out to that territory with the sole object of making permanent settlements, and growing up with it.

The people composing it were not influenced to any considerable extent by the evangelical movement, but mostly farmers, tradesmen and mechanics determined to find and make the best of opportunities for improving their material condition. It was the first migration to succeed in taking wagons beyond Fort Hall to the banks of the Columbia and down along the south side of that river to The Dalles, thence by batteaux or rafts to Fort Vancouver and the Willamette Valley, thus blazing a trail for future thousands to follow.

Among those emigrants were several men of unusual ability and forceful character, who were subsequently very successful and attracted wide attention. Peter H. Burnett—keen, alert and ambitious, the possessor of an almost inexhaustible fund of information and anecdote—became the first Governor of California, 1849-51.

Another one was J. W. Nesmith, witty and brilliant, later United States Senator from Oregon. Jesse Applegate, one of the men who came over the Oregon Trail in 1843, was a versatile writer, forceful speaker and a leading worker in the ranks of every progressive movement in the Pacific Northwest during his long and useful life there.

These men had the hardihood to attempt a feat considered utterly impracticable by those who had passed and repassed over that route on horseback for many years. When asked for his opinion as to the feasibility of taking the wagons to the Columbia, Richard Grant, the Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company at Fort Hall, made this characteristic and undoubtedly honest reply, "I will not say that Americans cannot do it, but for myself I cannot see how it would be possible."

The news that a large company of home seekers had succeeded in driving their teams and four-wheeled vehicles all the way through by that route caused widespread rejoicing throughout "the States," and virtually settled the question as to which nation the region should belong.

THE UNFORTUNATE SAGER FAMILY

Of the many tragic and pathetic incidents along the Trail during the early migration to Oregon, none surpasses that of this most bereaved and sorely afflicted family. Mr. Sager, a blacksmith, went in 1838 from Ohio to Missouri; in the fall of 1843 he moved to St. Joseph in that State, and in the spring of 1844 joined the Gillman party bound for the Oregon Country. He was accompanied by his wife and six children, the eldest a boy of fourteen (a seventh was born on the road), making five girls and two boys.

While crossing the Platte River one of his wagons in which Mrs. Sager was riding, overturned and so seriously injured her that she never entirely recovered from it. Near Fort Laramie the oldest girl fell under the wheels of the wagon and was rendered helpless during the remainder of the journey. At Green River, Mr. Sager died leaving an invalid wife, a crippled daughter and six children, the youngest a baby only a few weeks old.

In the party was an unmarried German doctor of a benevolent disposition who, seeing the straits to which the family was reduced, volunteered to drive and care for the oxen and assist the unfortunates to their destination. Mrs. Shaw, a kind hearted woman of the train, took the infant in charge. At Fort Bridger the greater part of the property brought that far by the emigrants, among them the Sagers, had to be abandoned, making their lot still harder, for henceforth they must travel in a cart.

Notwithstanding all that could be done to alleviate the sufferings of the ill and weak mother, she could no longer endure the hardships of the journey; and gave up her spirit in the wild and forbidding region of the Snake River. Delirious at the time, she called upon her dead husband to take good care of their little ones.

Mr. Shaw went to the Whitman Mission to see if Dr. and Mrs. Whitman could be prevailed upon to assume the care and custody of the orphans. Though prompted by their natural inclinations to do so, the Whitmans hesitated to assume the additional responsibility.

While in this uncertain frame of mind, the two-wheeled vehicle with its cargo of six ragged and travel-stained children appeared upon the scene. It was utterly impossible for those kind-hearted people to resist that appeal. When the question of the infant came up, the Doctor could not see how it could be managed; but Mrs. Whitman turned to him and said, "I would like to have the baby most of all."

ARRIVAL OF THE SAGER ORPHANS AT WAIILATPU, THE WHITMAN MISSION IN THE OREGON COUNTRY, FALL OF 1844: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE
ARRIVAL OF THE SAGER ORPHANS AT WAIILATPU, THE WHITMAN MISSION
IN THE OREGON COUNTRY, FALL OF 1844: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE

The baby member of the family was in the care and custody of Mrs. Shaw, whose husband somewhat thoughtlessly asked Mrs. Whitman if she had any children of her own. Stopping at the threshold, the good woman pointed to the little grave on the side of a small mound easily seen from that point, and replied, "The only child I ever had sleeps yonder." In the tone of her voice and the expression of her face there was unspeakable sadness. Only a few years later John and Francis were brutally murdered at the same Mission House by infuriated Indians, and all the girls taken into captivity. That family certainly was tried in the crucible; and never in my experience have I found a parallel to it.

* * *

Up to the present time fully nine-tenths of the emigrants going to the Oregon Country have settled in the Willamette Valley—a very large and fertile valley, probably seventy or eighty miles long by some ten or twelve in width. It is flanked on either side by ranges of heavily timbered hills, and traversed by the large Willamette River, which is fed by numerous streams issuing from the adjacent mountains on its course northward to join the mighty Columbia. The climate is remarkably mild and entirely free from extremes of temperature; and its very fertile soil produces small grains such as wheat, oats and barley, in great abundance. Vegetables of every kind grown in the temperate zone do remarkably well, while fruits such as apples, pears, plums and cherries are not only raised in great quantities, but are generally superior to the same varieties in the Atlantic States. Fish and game are also quite plentiful. Since the discovery of gold in California, that region has been an excellent market for everything raised at fancy prices; if this condition continues, the Oregon farmers will soon be more prosperous than the California gold miners.

There is also a vast region north of the Columbia, heavily timbered but interspersed here and there with numerous fertile valleys, which in recent years have been receiving many immigrants who claim to see a great future ahead. Even in the eastern portion of the territory, which is still occupied almost exclusively by Indians, shrewd men see possibilities of large settlements springing up within the next few years.

It is a wonderful country to which you are going, and you will probably never have cause to regret the decision.

[1] As this narrative was told in the early 1850s, "half a century ago" refers to the period shortly after 1800.—E.M.

[2] Companion of Capt. Meriwether Lewis on the Lewis & Clark Expedition of 1804-6; 1st Lieut. U.S.A., Jan. 31, 1806 (resigned Feb. 27, 1807); appointed Brig.-Gen. of Militia by Thomas Jefferson, March 13, 1807; Governor of Missouri Territory 1813-21, and afterward, including the time of the visit of these Indians, Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis until his death in 1838. Brother of Gen. George Rogers Clark.

THE WORK BEGUN AND CARRIED ON FOR TWO DECADES BY EZRA MEEKER TO BE CONTINUED ON A LARGER SCALE BY THE OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION, INC. OBJECTS: PLAN: MEMBERSHIPS:

More than twenty years have elapsed since the author started, January 29, 1906, on a return trip over the Oregon Trail, which he had traversed with an ox-team when just past 21 years of age, accompanied by a brave young wife and a babe, nearly fifty-four years before. The first journey was in search of a home in the Oregon Country, of which he has now been a resident for over seventy-three years; and the second one to rescue from impending oblivion the memories of the Pioneers by rediscovering the Trail they followed, and erecting permanent monuments to honor their heroic achievements.

A third trip was made with the ox-team in 1910 to continue and enlarge the effort; a fourth one with an automobile in 1915 to enlist the co-operation of the motoring public in the great work, and finally a fifth by aeroplane in October, 1924, when he looked down from the air at a speed of 100 miles per hour upon the route previously followed at an average of about two miles an hour by a migration of at least three hundred thousand, of whom not less than twenty thousand gave up their lives on the way. Although a total of nearly two hundred monuments and markers have been placed along or nearby the old tracks, the plan as a whole is still incomplete; and the desirability of carrying it forward beyond the limitations of a single life, unquestionable.

On January 9, 1926, the OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION, INC. was organized under the laws of the State of New York, for the following specific purposes:

1. To search out, identify, suitably and permanently mark the line of the Oregon Trail, in so far as possible at this time, with or without visible marks of the old tracks.

2. To erect suitable monuments or memorials on or nearby the sites of historical forts, trading posts or other important landmarks along the Trail, such as Fort Kearney, Fort Laramie, Fort Hall, Fort Bridger and others of distinct historical interest.

3. To restore the Whitman Mission in the County of Walla Walla, State of Washington, as the same existed at the date of the Massacre, November 29, 1847; to establish, or promote the establishment of, a park or other memorial to appropriately commemorate the sacrifice of Marcus and Narcissa Whitman, and the other victims of that historic tragedy; also to identify other localities where massacres are known to have taken place, and to suitably mark them.

4. To promote, encourage or portray in moving pictures, vividly recording the historic scenes on the great emigration over the Oregon Trail, with a reproduction of the characteristic scenery along the route, for use in the schools of the Nation, teaching exact and truthful history by such methods.

5. To collect and preserve written accounts, objects of interest and other things pertaining to the history of the winning of the Pacific Northwest; to deposit same with the historical societies, preferably in the States where found, or to designate a Museum or museums to preserve such records, relics or objects of interest as may be donated or otherwise acquired; and erect a suitable memorial to the Pioneers, most appropriately in the City of Washington.

Membership consists of two classes—Annual and Life. Any citizen of the United States, of adult age, shall be eligible for membership by the payment, annually, of two dollars ($2); or for a Life Membership by one payment of fifty dollars ($50). No assessment of members shall be made; nor shall membership involve any financial obligations beyond the stated fees or dues to the Corporation.

The considerable number of men and women who have already become identified with the organization are devoting their time and money to perpetuate the memory of the Pioneers, all but a few of whom have gone to their reward, and to preserve the history of the great overland migration which was the principal factor in advancing the northwestern boundary of the United States to the Pacific Coast. Work will be started in the field as soon as sufficient funds are secured to enable it to be carried forward on the high standard outlined. Success in accomplishing these objects depends upon public confidence and support; and the reader of this volume is invited to become a member.

OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION, INC.
Ezra Meeker,      Rev. David G. Wylie, D.D., LL.D.
President       Secretary
18 Old Slip, New York City

WORKS BY EZRA MEEKER

LOVED BEFORE SEEN (1874), a Story of Pioneer Life.

WASHINGTON TERRITORY WEST OF THE CASCADE MOUNTAINS (1870), a descriptive pamphlet, out of print and rare; as high as $100 has been paid for single copies.

FARM AND HOME, an editorial series of 52 numbers, 1884-6; newspaper publication only.

HOP CULTURE IN THE UNITED STATES (1883); rare and out of print.

PIONEER REMINISCENCES OF PUGET SOUND, AND THE TRAGEDY OF LESCHI (1905); 550 pages in two volumes under one cover, silk cloth binding, $15.00.

SHORT STORIES FOR CHILDREN, each with a moral.

THE LOST TRAIL (1911-12-15), a booklet of 32 pages, of which several editions totaling a hundred thousand copies, have been issued.

THE OREGON TRAIL, VENTURES AND ADVENTURES, revised and republished under title of THE BUSY LIFE OF EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS (1916); 400 pages, $1.65, postpaid.

FIFTY YEARS OF PROGRESS IN WASHINGTON (1915); 400 pages, $5.00 postpaid.

KATE MULHALL, a Romance of the Oregon Trail (1926); this volume, $2 postpaid, with the usual discounts to the trade.

In active preparation (1926): A CENTURY OF BUSY LIFE—the biography, varied experiences as pioneer, farmer, author and traveler, including four years in Europe, and the "homespun" philosophy of Ezra Meeker, 1830-1930 (borrowing a few years from the future, through which the author confidently expects to live, and thus justify the title chosen for this work), amplifying and carrying forward THE BUSY LIFE OF EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS in more definite historical retrospect.