were killed, and one wounded. On the following morning, while a detachment was going some distance from the fort to bring in a friendly chief, Seletza, who had been robbed for refusing to join in the hostilities, sixty Indian horses were captured—a reprisal which hardly offset the loss of so much beef in a country destitute of provisions.
On hearing of Major Lee's first brush with the enemy, the governor wrote Colonel Gilliam, January 26th, to select some of his best men and horses, and make a reconnoissance in the neighborhod of Des Chutes River. "It will require great caution on your part," he said, "as commander-in-chief in the field, to distinguish between friends and foes; but when you are certain that they are enemies, let them know the Americans are not women." But Gilliam was not a commander to need promptings of this kind. He meant to show the natives that Americans could fight when disembarrassed of their wives, children, and herds.
On arriving at the Dalles, he led a hundred and thirty men to the east side of Des Chutes River, where Major Lee was sent forward with a small detachment to discover the whereabouts of the enemy, a camp being found located about twenty miles above the crossing, but moving toward the mountains, with their families and property. Lee at once charged them, killing one man and capturing two women and a number of horses. Returning to camp, he was overtaken in a narrow canon by a well-armed and mounted force, who opened fire, obliging them to dismount, and shelter themselves among the rocks and bushes of the ravine, where the savages annoyed them until dark by rolling heavy stones down upon them. On the following day Gilliam attacked the natives with his whole company, killing a number and taking forty horses, a few cattle, and about $1,400 worth of other property which had been stolen. Skirmishing continued for several days, during which time three men