Part 33 (1/2)
Sealth, Keokuk, William and others, with quite a band of Duwampsh and Suquampsh Indians, once attacked the Chimac.u.ms, surrounded their large house or rancheree at night; at some distance away they joined hands forming a circle and gradually crept up along the ground until quite near, when they sprang up and fired upon them; the terrified occupants ran out and were killed by their enemies. On entering they found one of the wounded crawling around crying ”Ah! A-ah!” whom they quickly dispatched with an ax.
A band of Indians visited Alki in 1851, who told the story to the white settlers, imitating their movements as the attacking party and evidently much enjoying the performance.
About the year 1841, Sealth set himself to avenge the death of his nephew, Almos, who was killed by Owhi. With five canoe loads of his warriors, among whom was Curley, he ascended White River and attacked a large camp, killed more than ten men and carried the women and children away into captivity.
At one time in Olympia some renegades who had planned to a.s.sa.s.sinate him, fired a shot through his tent but he escaped unhurt. Dr. Maynard, who visited him shortly after, saw that while he talked as coolly as if nothing unusual had occurred, he toyed with his bow and arrow as if he felt his power to deal death to the plotters, but nothing was ever known of their punishment.
Sealth was of a type of Puget Sound Indian whose physique was not by any means contemptible. Tall, broad shouldered, muscular, even brawny, straight and strong, they made formidable enemies, and on the warpath were sufficiently alarming to satisfy the most exacting tenderfoot whose contempt for the ”bowlegged siwash” is by no means concealed. Many of the old grizzly-haired Indians were of large frame and would, if living, have made a towering contrast to their little ”runts” of critics.
Neither were their minds dwarfed, for evidently not narrowed by running in the grooves of other men's thoughts, they were free to nourish themselves upon nature and from their magnificent environment they drew many striking comparisons.
Not versed in the set phrases of speech, time-worn and hackneyed, their thoughts were naive, fresh, crude and angular as the frost-rended rocks on the mountain side. A number of these Indians were naturally gifted as orators; with great, mellow voices, expressive gestures, flaming earnestness, piteous pathos and scorching sarcasm, they told their wrongs, commemorated their dead and declared their friends.h.i.+p or hatred in a voluminous, polysyllabic language no more like Chinook than American is like pigeon English.
The following is a fragment valuable for the intimation it gives of their power as orators, as well as a true description of the appearance of Sealth, written by Dr. H. A. Smith, a well known pioneer, and published in the Seattle Sunday Star of October 29, 1877:
”Old Chief Seattle was the largest Indian I ever saw, and by far the n.o.blest looking. He stood nearly six feet in his moccasins, was broad-shouldered, deep-chested and finely proportioned. His eyes were large, intelligent, expressive and friendly when in repose, and faithfully mirrored the varying moods of the great soul that looked through them. He was usually solemn, silent and dignified, but on great occasions moved among a.s.sembled mult.i.tudes like a t.i.tan among Lilliputians, and his lightest word was law.
”When rising to speak in council or to tender advice, all eyes were turned upon him, and deep-toned, sonorous and eloquent sentences rolled from his lips like the ceaseless thunders of cataracts flowing from exhaustless fountains, and his magnificent bearing was as n.o.ble as that of the most civilized military chieftain in command of the force of a continent. Neither his eloquence, his dignity nor his grace was acquired. They were as native to his manhood as leaves and blossoms are to a flowering almond.
”His influence was marvelous. He might have been an emperor but all his instincts were democratic, and he ruled his subjects with kindness and paternal benignity.
”He was always flattered by marked attentions from white men, and never so much as when seated at their tables, and on such occasions he manifested more than anywhere else his genuine instincts of a gentleman.
”When Governor Stevens first arrived in Seattle and told the natives that he had been appointed commissioner of Indian affairs for Was.h.i.+ngton Territory, they gave him a demonstrative reception in front of Dr. Maynard's office near the water front on Main Street. The bay swarmed with canoes and the sh.o.r.e was lined with a living ma.s.s of swaying, writhing, dusky humanity, until Old Chief Seattle's trumpet-toned voice rolled over the immense mult.i.tude like the reveille of a ba.s.s drum, when silence became as instantaneous and perfect as that which follows a clap of thunder from a clear sky.
”The governor was then introduced to the native mult.i.tude by Dr.
Maynard, and at once commenced in a conversational, plain and straightforward style, an explanation of his mission among them, which is too well understood to require recapitulation.
”When he sat down, Chief Seattle arose, with all the dignity of a senator who carries the responsibilities of a great nation on his shoulders. Placing one hand on the governor's head, and slowly pointing heavenward with the index finger of the other, he commenced his memorable address in solemn and impressive tones:
”'Yonder sky has wept tears of compa.s.sion on our fathers for centuries untold, and which to us, looks eternal, may change.
Today it is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the clouds that never set. What Seattle says the chief Was.h.i.+ngton can rely upon, with as much certainty as our pale-face brothers can rely upon the return of the seasons. The son of the white chief says his father sends us greetings of friends.h.i.+p and good-will. This is kind, for we know he has little need of our friends.h.i.+p in return, because his people are many.
They are like the gra.s.s that covers the vast prairie, while my people are few and resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
”'The great, and I presume good, white chief sends us word that he wants to buy our lands, but is willing to allow us to reserve enough to live on comfortably. This indeed appears generous, for the red man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise also, for we are no longer in need of a great country.
”'There was a time when our people covered the whole land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea covers its sh.e.l.l-paved sh.o.r.e. That time has long since pa.s.sed away with the greatness of tribes almost forgotten. I will not mourn over our untimely decay, or reproach my pale-face brothers with hastening it, for we, too, may have been somewhat to blame.
”'When our young men grew angry at some real or imaginary wrong and disfigured their faces with black paint, their hearts also are disfigured and turned black, and then cruelty is relentless and knows no bounds, and our old men are not able to restrain them.'
”He continued in this eloquent strain and closed by saying: 'We will ponder your proposition and when we have decided we will tell you, but should we accept it I here and now make this first condition: That we shall not be denied the privilege, without molestation, of visiting at will the graves of our ancestors and friends. Every part of this country is sacred to my people; every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe.
”'Even the rocks that seem to lie dumb, as they swelter in the sun, along the silent seash.o.r.e in solemn grandeur, thrill with memories of past events, connected with the fate of my people and the very dust under our feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors and their bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred. At night when the streets of your cities and villages shall be silent and you think them deserted they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless.'”
Concerning the well-known portrait of Sealth, Clarence Bagley has this to say:
”It was in the early summer of 1865 that the original picture which is now so much seen of the old chief was taken. I think I probably have a diary giving the day upon which the old chief sat for his picture. An amateur artist named E. M. Sammis had secured a camera at Olympia and coming to Seattle established himself in a ramshackle building at the southeast corner of what is now Main and First Avenue South. Old Chief Seattle used often to hang about the gallery and scrutinize the pictures with evident satisfaction. I myself spent not a little time in and about the gallery and on the particular day the picture of the old chief was taken, was there. It occurred to the photographer to get a picture of the chief. The latter was easily persuaded to sit and it is a wrong impression, that has become historic, that the Indians generally were afraid of the photographer's art, considering it black magic.
”The chief's picture was taken and I printed the first copy taken from the negative. There may possibly have been photographs taken of the old chief at a later date, but I do not remember any, certainly none earlier, that I ever knew of.”