Part 5 (2/2)

The Indians proved efficient helpers, guides and workers in many ways.

One of the pioneers had three Indians to help him build his cabin.

To speak more particularly of the original architecture of the country, the cabins, built usually of round logs of the Douglas fir, about six inches in diameter, were picturesque, substantial and well suited to the needs of the pioneer. A great feature of the Seattle cabin was the door made of thick boards hewed out of the timber as there was no sawmill on the bay until H. L. Yesler built the first steam sawmill erected on the Sound. This substantial door was cut across in the middle with a diagonal joint; the lower half was secured by a stout wooden pin, in order that the upper half might be opened and the ”wa-wa” (talk) proceed with the native visitor, who might or might not be friendly, while he stood on the outside of the door and looked in with eager curiosity, on the strange ways of the ”Bostons.”

The style of these log cabins was certainly admirable, adapted as they were to the situation of the settler. They were inexpensive as the material was plentiful and near at hand, and required only energy and muscle to construct them; there were no plumber's, gas or electric light bills coming in every month, no taxes for improvements and a man could build a lean-to or hay-shed without a building permit. The interiors were generally neat, tasteful and home-like, made so by the versatile pioneer women who occupied them.

These primitive habitations were necessarily scattered as it was imperative that they should be placed so as to perfect the t.i.tles of the donation claims. Sometimes two settlers were able to live near each other when they held adjoining claims, others were obliged to live several miles away from the main settlement and far from a neighbor, in lonely, unprotected places.

What thoughts of the homes and friends they had left many weary leagues behind, visited these lonely cabin dwellers!

The husband was engaged in clearing, slas.h.i.+ng and burning log heaps, cutting timber, hunting for game to supply the larder, or away on some errand to the solitary neighbor's or distant settlement. Often, during the livelong day the wife was alone, occupied with domestic toil, all of which had to be performed by one pair of hands, with only primitive and rude appliances; but there were no incompetent servants to annoy, social obligations were few, fas.h.i.+on was remote and its tyranny unknown, in short, many disagreeable things were lacking. The sense of isolation was intensified by frequently recurring incidents in which the dangers of pioneer life became manifest. The dark, mysterious forest might send forth from its depths at any moment the menace of savage beast or relentless man.

The big, grey, timber wolf still roamed the woods, although it soon disappeared before the oncoming wave of invading settlers. Generally quite shy, they required some unusual attraction to induce them to display their voices.

On a dark winter night in 1853, the lonely cabin of D. T. and Louisa Denny was visited by a pair of these voracious beasts, met to discuss the remains of a cow, belonging to W. N. Bell, which had stuck fast among some tree roots and died in the edge of the clearing. How they did snarl and howl, making the woods and waters resound with their cries as they greedily devoured the carca.s.s. The pioneer couple who occupied the cabin entered no objection and were very glad of the protection of the solid walls of their primitive domicile. The next day, Mr. Denny, with dog and gun, went out to hunt them but they had departed to some remote region.

On another occasion the young wife lay sick and alone in the cabin above mentioned and a good neighbor, Mrs. Sarah Bell, from her home a mile away, came to see her, bringing some wild [A]pheasant's eggs the men had found while cutting spars. While the women chatted, an Indian came and stood idly looking in over the half-door and his companion lurked in the brush near by.

[Footnote A: Ruffed grouse.]

John Kanem, a brother of the chief, Pat Kanem, afterward told the occupants of the cabin that these Indians had divulged their intention of murdering them in order to rob their dwelling, but abandoned the project, giving as a reason that a ”haluimi kloochman” (another or unknown woman) was there and the man was away.

Surely a kind Providence watched over these unprotected ones that they might in after years fulfill their destiny.

During the summer of 1855, before the Indian war, Mr. and Mrs. D. T.

Denny were living in a log cabin in the swale, an opening in the midst of a heavy forest, on their donation claim, to which they had moved from their first cabin on Elliott Bay.

Dr. Choush, an Indian medicine man, came along one day in a state of ill-suppressed fury. He had just returned from a Government ”potlatch”

at the Tulalip agency. In relating how they were cheated he said that the Indians were presented with strips of blankets which had been torn into narrow pieces about six or eight inches wide, and a little bit of thread and a needle or two. The Indians thereupon traded among themselves and pieced the strips together.

He was naturally angry and said menacingly that the white people were few, their doors were thin and the Indians could easily break them in and kill all the ”Bostons.”

All this could not have been very rea.s.suring to the inmates of the cabin; however they were uniformly kind to the natives and had many friends among them.

Just before the outbreak a troop of Indians visited this cabin and their bearing was so haughty that Mrs. Denny felt very anxious. When they demanded ”Klosh mika potlatch wapatoes,” (Give us some potatoes) she hurried out herself to dig them as quickly as possible that they might have no excuse for displeasure, and was much relieved when they took their departure. One Indian remained behind a long time but talked very little. It is supposed that he thought of warning them of the intended attack on the white settlement but was afraid to do so because of the enmity against him that might follow among his own people.

Gov. Stevens had made treaties with the Indians to extinguish their t.i.tle to the lands of the Territory. Some were dissatisfied and stirred up the others against the white usurpers. This was perfectly natural; almost any American of whatever color resents usurpation.

Time would fail to recount the injuries and indignities heaped upon the Indians by the evil-minded among the whites, who could scarcely have been better than the same cla.s.s among the natives they sought to displace.

As subsequently appeared, there was a difference of opinion among the natives as to the desirability of white settlements in their domain: Leschi, Coquilton, Owhi, Kitsap, Kamiakin and Kanasket were determined against them, while Sealth (Seattle) and Pat Kanem were peaceable and friendly.

The former, shrewd chieftains, well knew that the white people coveted their good lands.

One night before the war, a pa.s.sing white man, David T. Denny, heard Indians talking together in one of their ”rancherees” or large houses; they were telling how the white men knew that the lands belonging to Tseiyuse and Ohwi, two great Yakima chiefs, were very desirable.

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