y to this coun-
try. Destitute and friendless, there was no other alternative — we must take them in or they must perish. The youngest was an infant five months old — born on the way — nearly famished but just alive; the eldest was thirteen, two boys and five girls; the boys were the oldest. The eldest girl was lying with a broken leg beside her parents as they were dying one after the other. They were an afflicted and distressed family in the journey, and when the children arrived here they were in a miserable condition. You can better imagine that I can describe my feelings under these circumstances. Weak and feeble as I was in an Indian country without the possibility of obtaining help, to have so many helpless chil- dren cast upon our arms at once, rolled a burden on me unsuiDportable. Nothing could reconcile me to it but the thought that it was the Lord that brought them here, and He would give me grace and strength so to discharge my duty to them as to be acceptable in His sight."' These orphans were the Sager children.
Such was the enlarged scope of the Whitman mission and the increased bur- den put upon its heads by the increased immigration. The burden was made heavier by the fact that the stream of immigration which brought these new in- mates to the Whitman home, increased the irritation of the Indians to the point where more than once during these j'ears it seemed as if the mission must be abandoned for lack of protection. The letters of this period made frequent mention of this impending peril. One letter, howevex*, of Mrs. Whitman's writ- ten in the midsummer of 1846 speaks with joy of a season of relief from these painful apprehension :
"The Indians are quiet now, and never more friendly. '* * * So far as the Indians are concerned our prospects of permanently remaining among them were never more favorable than at present. It is a great pleasure to them to see so many children growing up in their midst. Perrin, 'the elder, is able to read Nez Perces to them, and when husband is gone takes his place and holds meetings with them. This delights them much."
This season of quiet was not to last. Late in the summer of the following year Mrs. AVhitman writes of their situation in a less hopeful strain. It is on the eve of the passing of another caravan of immigrants, and she views their coming not Avithout apprehension, for the Indians as well as for themselves: "It is difficult to imagine what kind of a winter we shall have this winter, for it will not be possible for so many to all pass through the Cascades into the Willamette this fall, even if they should succeed in getting through the Blue mountains as far as here. * * * We are not likely to be as w^ll off for provisions this season as usual — our crops are not abundant.
"Poor people, those that are not able to get on, or pay for what they need are those that will most likely wish to stop here, judging from the past. * * * The poor Indians are amazed at the overwhelming numbers of Americans com- ing into the country. They seem not to know what to make of it. Very many of the principal ones are dying, and some have been killed by other Indians, in going south into the region of California. The remaining ones seem attached to us and cling to us the closer ; cultivate their farms quite extensively, and do not wish to see any Sniapus (Americans) settle among them here; they are willing to have them spend the winter here, but in the Spring they must all move on. They would be willing to have more missionaries stop and those de-
