He and Kelley first met at San Diego; subsequently at Monterey the acquaintance ripened. On one side were the thrilling tales of wild life which Young loved to tell; on the other, the romantic scheme of colonizing Oregon. These were always themes of mutual interest. Kelley recognized in Young the bold and enterprising spirit he needed to accompany him to the yet far away Columbia, and being possessed of superior attainments as well as extraordinary enthusiasm, he was able to gain him over to his plan of laying the foundations of American empire beside the River of the West.
The party which left California for the north in the summer of 1834 consisted of sixteen men, picked up at Monterey and San Jose, some with a character not of the best. They had among them nearly a hundred horses and mules designed for use and sale. Several parted from the expedition before it reached the northern limits of California, but they had remained long enough to stamp upon the company their own thieving reputation, as we shall presently see.
While toiling among the mountains of southern Oregon, Kelley was stricken with fever, which rendered him helpless, from which condition he was rescued by Michel La Framboise, who nursed him back to life, while continuing his way to Fort Vancouver with the season's return of furs. The only other incident of the journey worth mentioning was a difficulty with the Indians on Rogue River, a rapid and beautiful stream which derived its name from the rascally character of the natives in its vicinity.[1]
- ↑ 'It was sometimes called Rascal River by early explorers.' Williams' S. W. Or., MS., 2. 'Hence the name Les Coquins (the Rogues) and La Rivière aux Coquins (the Rogue River), given to the country by the men of the brigade.' Blanchet's Cath. Ch. in Or., 94. Townsend calls them the Potámeos, but says that they are called the 'rascally Indians,' from their uniformly evil disposition, and hostility to white people. Nar., 228. This is the true origin of the name, though several other theories have been advanced. In Ellicott's Puget Sound, MS., 20, he makes the mistake of confounding it with Rio San Roque or the Columbia. Grover, in Pub. Life, MS., 13–15, 18–19, mentions a map of French origin and some antiquity, whereon the Klamath and Rogue rivers are united and called 'Rouge Clamet,' or Red Klamath. The author of the
