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McLOUGHLIN AND THE IMMIGRANTS 279

"Yes," said Dr. Whitman. "Great numbers of them cultivate, and with but a single horse will take any plough we have, however large, and do their own ploughing. They have a great desire for hogs and hens and cattle."

At the mission, Dr. Whitman addressed his Indians upon the duty of peace and providence for the future. Tiloukaikt, "court crier," fickle as the wind, but now loyal again, rehearsed after him in that voice like a brazen trumpet.

"Ugh-ugh," responded the Indians, "ugh-ugh," like Methodist amens.

The choir flipped over the leaves of their Nez Perce hymn-books and struck the key like old-fashioned singing-masters.

As might be expected, the immigrants of 1844 came prejudiced against the British and itching for the honor of driving them out.

"We dread meeting that old barbarian in his den on the Columbia worse than anything else," said the immigrants at the Dalles.

"If the Hudson's Bay Company does n't conduct itself properly we'll knock their old stockade about their ears," said Gilliam, an ex-captain of the Seminole War.

Again winter rains were beating up the Cascades. Already December snows were whirling around Mt. Hood. Snow-bound cattle were famishing on the mountain trails, weary mothers were dragging their children along the slippery portages. Emaciated, discouraged, exhausted, the silent tears dropped down their hollow cheeks as they thought of the comfortable homes they had left in the States; but as a rule the women were brave, braver than the men. The