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CHAPTER 33
Scenery of the Way-lee-way - A substitute for tobacco - Sublime scenery of Snake River - The garrulous old chief and his cousin - A Nez Perce meeting - A stolen skin - The scapegoat dog - Mysterious conferences - The little chief - His hospitality - The captain's account of the United States - His healing skill
IN RESUMING HIS JOURNEY, Captain Bonneville was conducted by the
same Nez Perce guide, whose knowledge of the country was
important in choosing the routes and resting places. He also
continued to be accompanied by the worthy old chief with the hard
name, who seemed bent upon doing the honors of the country, and
introducing him to every branch of his tribe. The Way-lee-way,
down the banks of which Captain Bonneville and his companions
were now travelling, is a considerable stream winding through a
succession of bold and beautiful scenes. Sometimes the landscape
towered into bold and mountainous heights that partook of
sublimity; at other times, it stretched along the water side in
fresh smiling meadows, and graceful undulating valleys.
Frequently in their route they encountered small parties of the
Nez Perces, with whom they invariably stopped to shake hands; and
who, generally, evinced great curiosity concerning them and their
adventures; a curiosity which never failed to be thoroughly
satisfied by the replies of the worthy Yo-mus-ro-y-e-cut, who
kindly took upon himself to be spokesman of the party.
The incessant smoking of pipes incident to the long talks of this
excellent, but somewhat garrulous old chief, at length exhausted
all his stock of tobacco, so that he had no longer a whiff with
which to regale his white companions. In this emergency, he cut
up the stem of his pipe into fine shavings, which he mixed with
certain herbs, and thus manufactured a temporary succedaneum to
enable him to accompany his long colloquies and harangues with
the customary fragrant cloud.
If the scenery of the Way-lee-way had charmed the travellers with
its mingled amenity and grandeur, that which broke upon them on
once more reaching Snake River, filled them with admiration and
astonishment. At times, the river was overhung by dark and
stupendous rocks, rising like gigantic walls and battlements;
these would be rent by wide and yawning chasms, that seemed to
speak of past convulsions of nature. Sometimes the river was of a
glassy smoothness and placidity; at other times it roared along
in impetuous rapids and foaming cascades. Here, the rocks were
piled in the most fantastic crags and precipices; and in another
place, they were succeeded by delightful valleys carpeted with
green-award. The whole of this wild and varied scenery was
dominated by immense mountains rearing their distant peaks into
the clouds. "The grandeur and originality of the views, presented
on every side," says Captain Bonneville, "beggar both the pencil
and the pen. Nothing we had ever gazed upon in any other region
could for a moment compare in wild majesty and impressive
sternness, with the series of scenes which here at every turn
astonished our senses, and filled us with awe and delight."
Indeed, from all that we can gather from the journal before us,
and the accounts of other travellers, who passed through these
regions in the memorable enterprise of Astoria, we are inclined
to think that Snake River must be one of the most remarkable for
varied and striking scenery of all the rivers of this continent.
From its head waters in the Rocky Mountains, to its junction with
the Columbia, its windings are upward of six hundred miles
through every variety of landscape. Rising in a volcanic region,
amid extinguished craters, and mountains awful with the traces of
ancient fires, it makes its way through great plains of lava and
sandy deserts, penetrates vast sierras or mountainous chains,
broken into romantic and often frightful precipices, and crowned
with eternal snows; and at other times, careers through green and
smiling meadows, and wide landscapes of Italian grace and beauty.
Wildness and sublimity, however, appear to be its prevailing
characteristics.
Captain Bonneville and his companions had pursued their journey a
considerable distance down the course of Snake River, when the
old chief halted on the bank, and dismounting, recommended that
they should turn their horses loose to graze, while he summoned a
cousin of his from a group of lodges on the opposite side of the
stream. His summons was quickly answered. An Indian, of an active
elastic form, leaped into a light canoe of cotton-wood, and
vigorously plying the paddle, soon shot across the river.
Bounding on shore, he advanced with a buoyant air and frank
demeanor, and gave his right hand to each of the party in turn.
The old chief, whose hard name we forbear to repeat, now
presented Captain Bonneville, in form, to his cousin, whose name,
we regret to say, was no less hard being nothing less than
Hay-she-in-cow-cow. The latter evinced the usual curiosity to
know all about the strangers, whence they came whither they were
going, the object of their journey, and the adventures they had
experienced. All these, of course, were ample and eloquently set
forth by the communicative old chief. To all his grandiloquent
account of the bald-headed chief and his countrymen, the Big
Hearts of the East, his cousin listened with great attention, and
replied in the customary style of Indian welcome. He then desired
the party to await his return, and, springing into his canoe,
darted across the river. In a little while he returned, bringing
a most welcome supply of tobacco, and a small stock of provisions
for the road, declaring his intention of accompanying the party.
Having no horse, he mounted behind one of the men, observing that
he should procure a steed for himself on the following day.
They all now jogged on very sociably and cheerily together. Not
many miles beyond, they met others of the tribe, among whom was
one, whom Captain Bonneville and his comrades had known during
their residence among the Upper Nez Perces, and who welcomed them
with open arms. In this neighborhood was the home of their guide,
who took leave of them with a profusion of good wishes for their
safety and happiness. That night they put up in the hut of a Nez
Perce, where they were visited by several warriors from the other
side of the river, friends of the old chief and his cousin, who
came to have a talk and a smoke with the white men. The heart of
the good old chief was overflowing with good will at thus being
surrounded by his new and old friends, and he talked with more
spirit and vivacity than ever. The evening passed away in perfect
harmony and good-humor, and it was not until a late hour that the
visitors took their leave and recrossed the river.
After this constant picture of worth and virtue on the part of
the Nez Perce tribe, we grieve to have to record a circumstance
calculated to throw a temporary shade upon the name. In the
course of the social and harmonious evening just mentioned, one
of the captain's men, who happened to be something of a virtuoso
in his way, and fond of collecting curiosities, produced a small
skin, a great rarity in the eyes of men conversant in peltries.
It attracted much attention among the visitors from beyond the
river, who passed it from one to the other, examined it with
looks of lively admiration, and pronounced it a great medicine.
In the morning, when the captain and his party were about to set
off, the precious skin was missing. Search was made for it in the
hut, but it was nowhere to be found; and it was strongly
suspected that it had been purloined by some of the connoisseurs
from the other side of the river.
The old chief and his cousin were indignant at the supposed
delinquency of their friends across the water, and called out for
them to come over and answer for their shameful conduct. The
others answered to the call with all the promptitude of perfect
innocence, and spurned at the idea of their being capable of such
outrage upon any of the Big-hearted nation. All were at a loss on
whom to fix the crime of abstracting the invaluable skin, when by
chance the eyes of the worthies from beyond the water fell upon
an unhappy cur, belonging to the owner of the hut. He was a
gallows-looking dog, but not more so than most Indian dogs, who,
take them in the mass, are little better than a generation of
vipers. Be that as it may, he was instantly accused of having
devoured the skin in question. A dog accused is generally a dog
condemned; and a dog condemned is generally a dog executed. So
was it in the present instance. The unfortunate cur was
arraigned; his thievish looks substantiated his guilt, and he was
condemned by his judges from across the river to be hanged. In
vain the Indians of the hut, with whom he was a great favorite,
interceded in his behalf. In vain Captain Bonneville and his
comrades petitioned that his life might be spared. His judges
were inexorable. He was doubly guilty: first, in having robbed
their good friends, the Big Hearts of the East; secondly, in
having brought a doubt on the honor of the Nez Perce tribe. He
was, accordingly, swung aloft, and pelted with stones to make his
death more certain. The sentence of the judges being thoroughly
executed, a post mortem examination of the body of the dog was
held, to establish his delinquency beyond all doubt, and to leave
the Nez Perces without a shadow of suspicion. Great interest, of
course, was manifested by all present, during this operation. The
body of the dog was opened, the intestines rigorously
scrutinized, but, to the horror of all concerned, not a particle
of the skin was to be found--the dog had been unjustly executed!
A great clamor now ensued, but the most clamorous was the party
from across the river, whose jealousy of their good name now
prompted them to the most vociferous vindications of their
innocence. It was with the utmost difficulty that the captain and
his comrades could calm their lively sensibilities, by accounting
for the disappearance of the skin in a dozen different ways,
until all idea of its having been stolen was entirely out of the
question.
The meeting now broke up. The warriors returned across the river,
the captain and his comrades proceeded on their journey; but the
spirits of the communicative old chief, Yo-mus-ro-y-e-cut, were
for a time completely dampened, and he evinced great
mortification at what had just occurred. He rode on in silence,
except, that now and then he would give way to a burst of
indignation, and exclaim, with a shake of the head and a toss of
the hand toward the opposite shore--"bad men, very bad men across
the river"; to each of which brief exclamations, his worthy
cousin, Hay-she-in-cow-cow, would respond by a guttural sound of
acquiescence, equivalent to an amen.
After some time, the countenance of the-old chief again cleared
up, and he fell into repeated conferences, in an under tone, with
his cousin, which ended in the departure of the latter, who,
applying the lash to his horse, dashed forward and was soon out
of sight. In fact, they were drawing near to the village of
another chief, likewise distinguished by an appellation of some
longitude, O-pushy-e-cut; but commonly known as the great chief.
The cousin had been sent ahead to give notice of their approach;
a herald appeared as before, bearing a powder-horn, to enable
them to respond to the intended salute. A scene ensued, on their
approach to the village, similar to that which had occurred at
the village of the little chief. The whole population appeared in
the field, drawn up in lines, arrayed with the customary regard
to rank and dignity. Then came on the firing of salutes, and the
shaking of hands, in which last ceremonial every individual, man,
woman, and child, participated; for the Indians have an idea that
it is as indispensable an overture of friendship among the whites
as smoking of the pipe is among the red men. The travellers were
next ushered to the banquet, where all the choicest viands that
the village could furnish, were served up in rich profusion. They
were afterwards entertained by feats of agility and horseraces;
indeed, their visit to the village seemed the signal for complete
festivity. In the meantime, a skin lodge had been spread for
their accommodation, their horses and baggage were taken care of,
and wood and water supplied in abundance. At night, therefore,
they retired to their quarters, to enjoy, as they supposed, the
repose of which they stood in need. No such thing, however, was
in store for them. A crowd of visitors awaited their appearance,
all eager for a smoke and a talk. The pipe was immediately
lighted, and constantly replenished and kept alive until the
night was far advanced. As usual, the utmost eagerness was
evinced by the guests to learn everything within the scope of
their comprehension respecting the Americans, for whom they
professed the most fraternal regard. The captain, in his replies,
made use of familiar illustrations, calculated to strike their
minds, and impress them with such an idea of the might of his
nation, as would induce them to treat with kindness and respect
all stragglers that might fall in their path. To their inquiries
as to the numbers of the people of the United States, he assured
them that they were as countless as the blades of grass in the
prairies, and that, great as Snake River was, if they were all
encamped upon its banks, they would drink it dry in a single day.
To these and similar statistics, they listened with profound
attention, and apparently, implicit belief. It was, indeed, a
striking scene: the captain, with his hunter's dress and bald
head in the midst, holding forth, and his wild auditors seated
around like so many statues, the fire lighting up their painted
faces and muscular figures, all fixed and motionless, excepting
when the pipe was passed, a question propounded, or a startling
fact in statistics received with a movement of surprise and a
half-suppressed ejaculation of wonder and delight.
The fame of the captain as a healer of diseases, had accompanied
him to this village, and the great chief, O-push-y-e-cut, now
entreated him to exert his skill on his daughter, who had been
for three days racked with pains, for which the Pierced-nose
doctors could devise no alleviation. The captain found her
extended on a pallet of mats in excruciating pain. Her father
manifested the strongest paternal affection for her, and assured
the captain that if he would but cure her, he would place the
Americans near his heart. The worthy captain needed no such
inducement. His kind heart was already touched by the sufferings
of the poor girl, and his sympathies quickened by her appearance;
for she was but about sixteen years of age, and uncommonly
beautiful in form and feature. The only difficulty with the
captain was, that he knew nothing of her malady, and that his
medical science was of a most haphazard kind. After considering
and cogitating for some time, as a man is apt to do when in a
maze of vague ideas, he made a desperate dash at a remedy. By his
directions, the girl was placed in a sort of rude vapor bath,
much used by the Nez Perces, where she was kept until near
fainting. He then gave her a dose of gunpowder dissolved in cold
water, and ordered her to be wrapped in buffalo robes and put to
sleep under a load of furs and blankets. The remedy succeeded:
the next morning she was free from pain, though extremely
languid; whereupon, the captain prescribed for her a bowl of
colt's head broth, and that she should be kept for a time on
simple diet.
The great chief was unbounded in his expressions of gratitude for
the recovery of his daughter. He would fain have detained the
captain a long time as his guest, but the time for departure had
arrived. When the captain's horse was brought for him to mount,
the chief declared that the steed was not worthy of him, and sent
for one of his best horses, which he presented in its stead;
declaring that it made his heart glad to see his friend so well
mounted. He then appointed a young Nez Perce to accompany his
guest to the next village, and "to carry his talk" concerning
them; and the two parties separated with mutual expressions of
good will.
The vapor bath of which we have made mention is in frequent use
among the Nez Perce tribe, chiefly for cleanliness. Their
sweating houses, as they call them, are small and close lodges,
and the vapor is produced by water poured slowly upon red-hot
stones.
On passing the limits of O-push-y-e-cut's domains, the travellers
left the elevated table-lands, and all the wild and romantic
scenery which has just been described. They now traversed a
gently undulating country, of such fertility that it excited the
rapturous admiration of two of the captain's followers, a
Kentuckian and a native of Ohio. They declared that it surpassed
any land that they had ever seen, and often exclaimed what a
delight it would be just to run a plough through such a rich and
teeming soil, and see it open its bountiful promise before the
share.
Another halt and sojourn of a night was made at the village of a
chief named He-mim-el-pilp, where similar ceremonies were
observed and hospitality experienced, as at the preceding
villages. They now pursued a west-southwest course through a
beautiful and fertile region, better wooded than most of the
tracts through which they had passed. In their progress, they met
with several bands of Nez Perces, by whom they were invariably
treated with the utmost kindness. Within seven days after leaving
the domain of He-mim-el-pilp, they struck the Columbia River at
Fort Wallah-Wallah, where they arrived on the 4th of March, 1834.
Content of CHAPTER 33 [Washington Irving's book: The Adventures of Captain Bonneville]
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