CHAPTER VII. Tour to Vancouver Reception at the fort Preaching in the hall · Business -- completed Expedient to keep warm - Cold weather DECEMBER 7th, 1842. Left the Wallamette for Vancouver, for the purpose of procuring supplies for the Oregon Mission School, accompanied by five Indian boys. Proceeded on horse-back about twenty-five miles to a place on the Wallamette river, called, by the French, "La Butte," this being the most convenient place to land our supplies. Here, after having slept beneath the wide spreading branches of a large fir tree, we took the canoe which is kept by the mission above the falls of the Wallamette, for the purpose of transporting goods up and down the river, and proceeded to "Tum Water, that is, the falls. We left our canoe above the portage, and taking a boat provided for us by Mr. Abernethy, the mission steward, we continued on about fifteen miles below the falls, and encamped one hour after sundown, having rowed our canoe and boat during the day the distance of thirty-five miles. The night was very cold, but collecting a large quantity of fuel, we were able to keep up a good fire during the night, and in this manner kept ourselves comfortably warm. Started the next morning as soon as it was day, and, though for six miles we had to contend with the strong current of the Columbia, we arrived at Vancouver at two o'clock, P. M. I went directly to the fort, and had an interview with James Douglass, Esq., one of the commandants of the place, and ascertained that I should be able to accomplish my business early on Monday morning. I was received with all that courtesy and hospitality which usually characterize the gentlemen of the Hudson's Bay Company. It was Saturday, and in the evening I received a respectful invitation from Mr. Douglass, to preach in the hall, the following day. Accordingly, after the usual church service was read, I endeavored to explain and enforce the inquiry of the jailer-"What must I do to be saved?" On Monday morning, the 11th, having completed my business, and prepared to return, we proceeded to our boat, and found the Columbia river filled with ice. The weather had been increasingly cold, and the ice came down the river in large fields, and threatened to put a stop, for the time being, to the navigation of the stream. However, it had not yet become very hard, and though there was some danger in the attempt, yet we launched forth into the stream, and breaking our way through the ice with our setting poles, we at length succeeded in getting safely into the mouth of the Wallamette. This river being clear from ice, we proceeded up about seven miles, and encamped under a high bluff, which sheltered us from the piercing winds from the north-east. The ground being frozen, the weather exceedingly cold, and, withal, a scarcity of bedding, I took the following precaution to ensure a comfortable night: I built a large fire where I designed to make my bed, and after the earth became thoroughly warmed and dried, I removed the fire a little distance, and plucking some fir boughs, threw them upon the heated earth; then spreading my buffalo skin upon the boughs, I lay down upon it, and with a couple of blankets over me, slept comfortably during the night. Next day at noon, we arrived at the falls, and on Wednesday, the 13th, made our portage. At two, P. M., we proceeded up the rapids above the falls, which, at that season of the year, are very difficult of ascent. They are ascended by cordeling, and it is frequently necessary to work for hours in the water among the rocks, in order to get up one boat load, an exercise any thing but agreeable when the mercury is nearly down to zero. We succeeded, however, with much toiling, and a severe wetting, in reaching the deep water above the rapids, without any serious accident, and at night encamped seven miles above the falls, in a dense forest of fir trees. I had preserved a few matches from getting wet, and succeeded, after awhile, in striking up a good fire, though the wood where we were encamped was very wet. I cooked me a supper of fresh salmon, not forgetting to make a good cup of tea; and after partaking of my humble repast from my ground table, with that peculiar relish which good health and hard labor always give to wholesome food, and offering up a tribute of thanksgiving to Providence for the blessings of the past, and invoking a continuance of his favors, I spread my skins and blankets upon the ground, and reclined myself to rest. As I lay stretched upon my bed of skins before the fire, musing upon the good providence of God, which had been manifested in our preservation amid the dangers to which we had been exposed in ascending the fearful rapids, I was startled by the voice of a man from the river below us, inquiring, "What boat is that?" I replied, it belongs to the Oregon mission. "Then," said he, "I will come ashore." It was ten o'clock at night, and it was quite an uncommon thing for boats to remain upon the river to so late an hour. Consequently, I felt quite solicitous to know who the stranger might be. The sound of his oars, as they fell upon the water, grew louder and louder as he approached the shore, and in a few minutes he was along side of our boat, to which he fastened his small skiff. Clambering up the precipitous bank of the river through the thick underbrush, the light of our fire relieved me of some anxiety, as it shone upon the face of a "half-breed " Indian, direct from the place where I resided, which was forty miles above. This half-breed was an educated man, and a sketch of his history may be found below. After giving me the gratifying intelligence that my own family were well, he inquired if I had heard the sad news. "What news?' said I, "I have heard nothing sad." "Then," said he, "I am the bearer of intelligence concerning the most afflicting event that has ever transpired in our settlement: the Rev. James Olley is no more." Intelligence more unexpected could scarcely have been communicated; and when the circumstances of the removal of Mr. Olley from this stage of action were related, the effect upon my mind was quite overpowering. Mr. Olley was a local preacher in the Oregon mission, and sailed from New York in the fall of 1839, with the large reinforcement in the ship Lausanne. He was a carpenter by trade, and after his arrival in Oregon, continued to serve the mission in that capacity, as he was able. He was making preparations to build himself a house, and desiring some better lumber than any he could obtain in the vicinity of the mission for the purpose of making window sash, he had employed a young man by the name of Eiken to accompany him up the Wallamette river about twenty miles, where there was pine timber, with the design of procuring a couple of logs and running them down the river to the mission saw-mill, where they could be cut into boards to suit his purpose. He proceeded to the pinery, and cutting two small sized logs rolled them into the water, but found that they were so heavy they would not float. He had designed to take them in tow, but finding that they would sink to the bottom, he resolved upon this expedient, to raise them to the surface, and lash a log to each side of his canoe. All being prepared they entered the canoe thus encumbered, and committed themselves to the rapid and treacherous current of Wallamette river. The weather was exceedingly cold, as it had been for a number of weeks previously, and the water in the river coming down from the snowy mountains of the east, was as cold as the ice itself. As there had been but little rain during the fall, the river was not high, but there are places in it at all stages of the water, which are very rapid, and it requires great skill and dexterity to run them in safety even with an empty canoe. However, they proceeded down the current about ten miles, without accident, Mr. Eiken being in the stern, and Mr. Olley in the bow of the canoe, when they came to one of the fearful rapids with which the river abounds. At this place is a ledge of rocks extending across the bed of the stream, which rises out of the water in one place, forming a small island. The rapid commences a short distance above this ledge, and where the water breaks over the rocks it becomes exceedingly violent. Neither Mr. Olley nor Eiken had ever passed up or down this part of the river, consequently they were entirely ignorant of the dangers of the place; but there was no alternative, they were already in the strength of the current, and to make the shore on either side was impossible. Consequently they were carried with great violence on the rocks about fifteen yards from the little island, and about forty yards from the opposite shore. The bow of the canoe and logs first struck the rocks, and the stern swung so violently down that Eiken was thrown clear from the canoe into the strongest part of the current. But, being young, vigorous and active, he succeeded in making the shore about three hundred yards below, but he was so much exhausted through exertion, and benumbed by the cold, that when he reached the shore he was scarcely able to move; and while struggling in the icy water just before reaching the place where he could gain a foothold on the bottom, he was on the point of yielding to the fury of the current, and giving himself up for lost. But he escaped to tell a more solemn tale concerning the fate of his comrade. As soon as Eiken possibly could, he returned to the place opposite where the canoe and logs struck, and observed that Mr. Olley, having held fast to the raft, and now being on one of the logs, was looking round as if to contrive what course to pursue. He called out to him and inquired, "what are you going to do?" Mr. Olley made no reply. Probably from the noise of the water rushing over the rocks, he did not hear him. Eiken thought he might have been bewildered. He directly sat down on the log and pulled |