interference with their life and habits. Their spring brigade from Red River worked its way across the mountains, to come sailing down the Columbia in fleets of bateaux manned by Canadian voyageurs, whose advent was accompanied by semi-barbaric features, and constituted the grand event of the year. Once or twice a year, some trading vessel belonging to the Company came around the world by way of the Sandwich Islands, entered the Columbia, and battled its way against the currents to Vancouver.
About this time some Indians of the Flathead tribe, whose home was on the headwaters of the Columbia (in north-western Montana, whence it makes a grand circuit northward and west ward to avoid the Bitter Root Mountains, bending southward in a wide detour to reach the confluence with Snake River), heard from some wandering trapper and hunter a story of the Christian's belief in God, and, impelled by their desire for information, four of the tribe made their way, in 1832, eastward to St. Louis. There they met Catlin, the celebrated naturalist and artist, and through him the religious world was made aware of the spiritual famine of the far western tribes, and it resulted in sending missions to Oregon by both the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches.
The American Board organized an expedition in 1835 to prospect Oregon, and locate a mission, if desirable. Of this expedition was Dr. Marcus Whitman, a physician, described as a person of easy-going ways, somewhat uncertain in forming opinions, but steadfast in them when formed—bold in carrying out his plans when matured, either in business of the mission or in his medical practice, and in the latter generally successful. He and Rev. Mr. Parker made their way, on this errand, to the great American rendezvous, on Green River, this side of the Rocky Mountains. There they met with a party of Nez Perces, who offered to pilot them to the Columbia River. They then manifested the friendliness that has always characterized the majority of the tribe, and offered inducements for the establishment of a mission among them. This resulted in Mr. Parker going on to survey the land and look for a suitable location, while Dr. Whitman retraced his steps to make favor able report to the Home Board.
In 1836, Dr. Marcus Whitman and Rev. H. H. Spaulding, and their wives, made an adventurous journey across the continent with wagons as far as Boise, reaching the Columbia, and receiving assistance from the Indians to build a station on the Walla Walla River, where Dr. Whitman settled as missionary to the Cayuses and Umatillas, while Mr. Spaulding went eastward to make his home with the Nez Perces.
The missionaries and their wives went at first down the Columbia, and were handsomely received and entertained by Dr. McLoughlin, Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company, who, considering the circumstances and the jealously felt concerning American influence, was liberal in offering hospitality and supplies. W. H. Gray came with the company as financial agent, and has written a history of Oregon that is valuable, as it contains- many important details, and I rely much on it for facts and dates. In his book he gives a charmingly wild and picturesque view of the great American rendezvous at Green River, and, as this aims to be a panoramic sketch, we must not overlook this vision, characteristic of the plains at that early time.
The missionaries traveled with a caravan, and word had gone on ahead concerning them; and two days before they reached the rendez-vous they were met by a party of Indians and White Men, who rode out to give them greeting, and a wild, barbaric greeting it was, savage yells and a fusillade that sent rifle bullets scream ing above their heads, and a charge into camp that would have terrified them, only some of the party understood and explained the rude etiquette of the desert to the rest.
That night they camped on the summit of the continent, Mr. Gray says, a high land about thirty miles south of Wind River Mountain, from which vicinity waters flow by the channels of the Columbia, Colorado, Missouri, and Saskatchawan to the four quarters of the continent. That is alone a picture that stamps itself upon the memory with great force and vividness.
Crossing the mountains, they wended their way down the canons to the beautiful valley of Green River, where Bridger's trading fort was long located, a charming oasis set in this wilderness of desert plains and inhospitable ranges, verdant and blooming, and just then alive with the presence of fifteen hundred Indians, traders, trappers, and representatives of every kind of civilization. It happened that the nomadic tribes were just then at peace, and they had met here as the neutral ground of that wide, wild region. Here were log huts or houses for traders, there rude shelters for hunters, there were tents of travelers, like our missionaries and their wives, and hither had also wandered an English baronet, who found it convenient to absent himself from civilization and its attend ant extravagance while his estate was being nursed back to a paying basis. Here were hunters, trappers, and traders, with their Indian wives; men who had strayed off from civilization, and were astonished to be brought face to
