Page:McLoughlin and Old Oregon.djvu/254



248 McLOUGHLIN, AND OLD OREGON

beloved of the Indians, Rogers without whom Mrs. Whitman felt the meeting could not be held, was dead.

The Indians were watching for the subagent and the subagent was watching for the Indians. Each expected to see an enemy. When three or four whites entered their midst unarmed, their fears gave way to wonder.

"Yes; Yellow Serpent was right," they said. "We were mistaken." Ever since the chief's return they had been working on their little plantations. Corn, peas, and wheat were peeping through the mould.

"I actually found the Indians suffering more from fear of the whites than the whites from fear of the Indians," was the su'bagent's report on his return.

The Walla Walla meadows were purple with camas, the plains a moquette of multicolored phlox. The Cayuses were camped along the base of the Blue Mountains. Three thousand Walla Wallas were camped on the Umatilla. A thousand Nez Perces came down from the North on their best horses. The mounted Cayuses and Walla Wallas rode forth to meet their guests in sham battle. In front of Dr. Whitman's the entire plain was a glittering cavalcade of prancing horses and plumed warriors, gay as when the monarchs of old met on the Field of the Cloth of Gold. Elijah, Tauitau, Five Crows in splendid array led their several bands.

Yellow Serpent sounded the war whistle. Chief Joseph answered with the Indian bugle. The spirited chargers dashed as in deadly combat, imitating a recent battle with the Blackfeet. There was a rush and a roar, a whirl and confusion, and shouts and flying foam, as the savage cavalry swept the plain. Even the chiefs