and hung enormous baskets from the rocks. The leaping salmon landed in the baskets in schools and shoals, and the watchful Indians hauled up tons and tons a day. It was like a great fair when the tribes of the interior came down to trade for salmon at the Dalles.
"Here," said Whitman, "is a strategic point. Here will I locate my mission."
"No," said Dr. McLoughlin, "the Dalles Indians are fishing Indians, treacherous and unreliable. Go up among the hunting Indians of the Walla Walla. Do you not know that the English troopers are recruited from the fox-hunters of England? The Indians of the chase are the troopers of this continent. They can do anything."
"But can they be tamed?" asked Dr. Whitman.
"The possibilities of those horse Indians cannot be measured," answered Dr. McLoughlin. "They are in a state of nature, uncorrupted, strong and brave and free. These canoe Indians are in the process of decay."
"But how can I locate so far from my base of supplies?" hesitated the missionary.
"I will send your goods in my boats for a trifle. Every summer our brigades go up the Columbia with supplies for the interior. Your credit shall be always good. Our stations at Fort Walla Walla and Fort Colvile are open to your orders."
While their husbands were gone, looking at the upper country, Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding remained guests at Fort Vancouver. In a day their love unlocked the hearts of Madame McLoughlin and her stately daughter Eloise and the charming Mrs. Douglas. The trader's children crowded about the delicate Mrs. Spalding like bees around a honeysuckle. She
