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London. Dr. McLoughlin mounted more guns and waited for a reply.
A Catholic priest from the upper country brought word to Fort Vancouver: "The Indians say they are not mad at the King George men, only at the Bostons, because they take their lands."
"Very well, then," said the irritated doctor. "Let the Americans take care of themselves."
"The Indians of the interior are endeavoring to form a coalition for the purpose of destroying all the Boston people," wrote the missionaries from the Dalles to the Indian subagent "They construe the language you used last autumn into threats. The wicked Dorion has told them that ships are coming into the river with troops."
"I must go up there again at all hazards, and meet those Walla Walla-Cayuses," said the subagent. He engaged twelve Frenchmen to accompany the expedition, but when the day came every one sent word, "We have decided not to go."
Not to be daunted, the subagent set out with four companions from the Methodist mission. At Champoeg Dr. McLoughlin's long boat met him with a despatch, "I entreat you not to undertake such a dangerous expedition. In all probability you and your party will be cut off." But the subagent went on.
At the Falls a second runner met him with a second letter from Dr. McLoughlin. "I advised my Frenchmen to have nothing to do with this quarrel. Keep quiet, keep quiet. The excitement will soon subside."
Madame and Mrs. Douglas were at their embroidery when they heard loud voices in the fort: "Is it true that you refuse to grant supplies to the Americans who signed that memorial?"
