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leaped anew. "Yes, it is as Dorion said; they have come to take the country." But no hand was lifted against the new-comers surprise absorbed all other emotions.
Dr. Whitman, the Nestor of them all, had already despatched from Lapwai a train of Nez Perces, with grain and potatoes, that the immigrants might purchase needed supplies before advancing down the Columbia.
"I said I would bring an immigration over the mountains, and I have done it," said Dr. Whitman, bringing his hand down on the pommel of his saddle.
"Yes, but mind, now, Doctor," said Spalding, as the pack-ponies set out, "I furnish those provisions only on condition that you accept pay for them. Of course let nobody suffer, but remember, we are not in a condition to give out of hand to every immigrant as you did last year. I know your generous nature; you would give your last ounce of flour and live yourself on the bran. The missions are compelled to be self-supporting. The very toil we expend in raising these supplies is that much taken out of our time for preaching and teaching."
"Not so, brother Spalding," cheerfully answered the doctor. "With the plough, the spade, the hoe, we teach. When the Indians see us work, they are more willing."
"I know, I know," said Spalding, "my Nez Perces often laugh and tell me, ' Before you came we never worked. Now we are become a nation of squaws.' "
The worn-out oxen dragged the worn-out wagons down to the Dalles. The herders drove the cattle by the trail around Mt. Hood. Some cut timber and fashioned log rafts to navigate the perilous river. Driving on their wagons and piling on their goods and families, down they glided, Indians assisting, and
