| present story.
In the early summer of 1877, I lived in
Union county, Or., and published the Mountain Sentinel.
A courier from Wallowa valley, 80 miles away rode into
town one morning with an appeal from the citizens over
there for help in standing off Chief Joseph and his
band, who were about to slaughter them. They had
already sent to Fort Walla Walla for government
assistance. Seven of us volunteered to go. The rest
felt it their duty to protect their own homes at such a
time. When we volunteers reached Wallowa we found a
company of 30 ready and anxious to go out and offer
battle to Joseph, who was encamped with 105 men about 20
miles away. I knew a bit more about Indian fighting
than they and persuaded them to wait for the regulars,
who arrived at daylight the next morning. The combined
forces, 81 men in all, moved on Joseph at once. At noon
we halted three-fourths of a mile from the Indians’
strongly fortified position.
Squire Veasey, a very
intelligent citizen, was awaiting our arrival with an
invitation from Joseph to Lieutenant Force to come over
across Hurricane creek, which had been established by
mutual consent as the dead line between the settlers and
Indians. Lieutenant Force and Mr. Veasey at once
mounted and rode over to interview Joseph and, after
probably two hours, returned with the information that
an agreement had been reached that the Indians and their
stock would be kept on the north side of Hurricane creek
and the whites and their stock should remain on the
south side unmolested until a report of the situation
could be sent to “the Great Father in Washington.” This
let the gore hunters from Grande Renell out, and there
was gnashing of teeth, especially among the young and
reckless ones, who had never tried their shot at a red
blanket, and Lieutenant Force was denounced as a
coward. Seeing that our mission was at an end, and not
at that time knowing the arrangements that had been
made, and having heard often of the beautiful Wallowa
lake and the remarkable red fish that it contained I was
anxious to visit the lake. So I called Captain Booth to
one side and said:
“Captain, let us take
the commissary wagon and some blankets and grub and go
up to the lake and catch some fish.”
He at once consented
and we proceeded. Several young men were anxious to go,
none understanding that our going was a violation of the
treaty. We selected five to ride in the wagon and
Captain Booth and I mounted our horses and started for
the ford in the direction of Joseph’s camp, the road to
the lake crossing the creek just below Joseph’s camp and
winding around the base of the hill on which he was
fortified.
When about half way to
the ford a little corporal or lieutenant, who hailed
from the evergreen isle, and was probably born near its
greenest spot over took us at a gallop and thundered in
our sensitive ears:
“Lieutenant Force order
yez back!:
We enquired why, and he
said:
“None of yer damned
business phy: yez fellows come back; that’s phy.”
I at once told him to
present Captain Booth’s compliments to Lieutenant Force,
and tell him that we were going up to the lake, and that
he had not men enough to stop us, and just to say to the
lieutenant that he had our permission to go where over
coats are not needed in the dead of winter. The little
Irishman literally destroyed the grass on his way back,
and delivered the message probably verbatim, for
Lieutenant Force and Mr. Veasey immediately mounted and
dashed over to Joseph’s camp as fast as their horses
could carry them. Then there was a commotion. We could
hear Joseph’s voice that your correspondent says “is now
a murmur” speaking to him men in trumpet tones and from
my knowledge of the Nez Percé
language I knew that he was pleading to restrain them
from sweeping down on us; but we went on. We cautioned
our boys on the wagon to be ready for trouble, but to
say not a word, and we drove on.
Thus by Joseph’s
control over his bare and hideously painted warriors our
lives were saved. Joseph could not readily understand
why Lieutenant Force had no control over us, and at
first insisted that if the lieutenant could not stop us
he thought his men could, but he placed unlimited
confidence in the word of Mr. Veasey, who gave his
pledge that we would do no wrong. This Mr. Veasey must
have done with some misgivings, for he well knew the
feeling that existed among the citizens toward what at
that time seemed to them to be a disposition on the part
of Lieutenant Force to avoid an encounter with Joseph
and his warriors.
We went on to the lake,
camped that night, and returned during the afternoon of
the next day. Again the Nez Percé
were drawn up in line behind the wall of rock on the
hill. We instructed the boys with the team to make no
demonstrations and to say not a word, but to drive
quietly along the road and on to camp. Captain Booth
and myself rode just behind the wagon. When opposite
the camp a fool hardy idea struck me and I said:
“Captain lets us go up
and see Joseph: I want to get a buckskin thong to fix
my stirrup strap.”
The captain said:
“All right; go ahead.”
We rode up the hill in
the face of about 100 hideously painted and scowling
warriors and went directly to Joseph’s tent. In front
of his tent was a little Indian boy, probably 8 years
old. Dismounting, I handed him a piece of silver and
gave him the reins of my horse to hold, but he handed
the reins to another boy and darted into the ten to show
his father the money. As Joseph was sulking and had not
shown himself, which was ominous, we deliberated a short
time. I finally said to Captain Booth:
“Let us hang our guns
on our saddles, so as to appear unarmed and go into the
tent.”
We did so, I had a
large ivory handled six-shooter stuck in the inside
pocket of my coat, and as I stooped over to enter the
door of the tent my gun fell at my feet. Your
correspondent may tell about Joseph’s impassive face,
but I saw it change then and his eyes fairly shot fire.
He made a movement as if he were about to spring to his
feet, and had he done so your readers would not be
hearing from me now. I endeavored to appear unconcerned
at the blunder, and picking up the revolver, stuck it in
the side pocket of my coat. I saluted Joseph in
Chinook, a language commonly understood by Indians of
the section. To this he made no reply. I then
proceeded to tell him that our hearts were good, and
that I had been present and had met him when he had held
a talk with Senator Slater, and that I was engaged in
“making paper talk at Union,” and had called to get his
statement to publish it and send it to the Great Father
in Washington. While this was not strictly true, I felt
that the play was within the limits of the game; and I
made it stick.
This interested Joseph
at once, and he motioned us to be seated on a buffalo
robe at his feet. I produced some tobacco and a pipe
and we smoked. I took out my notebook and he called an
interpreter. I wrote as if my life depended on it, and
when I got home I published the interview, but not the
incidents that led to it, which have never before been
penned.
At Joseph’s suggestion
his wife cut me a string for my stirrup we bade him good
day. Soon after this he crossed Snake river and went
over to Camas Prairie. There, some of his warriors
having secured whisky and got drunk among the settlers,
blood was spilled. The subsequent campaign has gone
into history.
Chieftain, Jan.
22, 1903
Chief Joseph to Washington
(Evening Telegram Correspondence.)
Spokane, Washington,
Jan. 18.—Chief Joseph, of the Nez Percé,
is in the city on his way to Washington, D. C., where
again he will use every effort to induce the Government
to return a portion of the Wallowa Valley to his tribe.
He remained in Spokane today, only waiting her until a
suitable interpreter could be secured. R. B. Scoots of
this city, who has already acted in this capacity, will
go with Joseph.
The chief accompanied
by Red Thunder, and Olocot, two nephews. Red Thunder
who is the only one of the three that can speak English,
will not accompany them.
Chief Joseph is along
in the 60’s, and still his ambition is to see the tribe
of which he has been the most noted warrior and leader,
hold the choice lands that they have wanted for many
years. |
