dinary rains of the season had produced a corresponding growth of grass. There was here only a light fringe of timber on the largest creeks; outside of that all was an ocean of lush green grass, most of which was then in heavy seed stem. Walking in this luxuriance became as laborious as wading in water. I failed of seeing any game, but produced a little scare by being myself seen and mistaken for an Indian, on account of being observed alone. One of the men who had seen me read me rather a sharp lecture for going so far thus; and it was imprudent. Taking this reproof in good part, I soon found myself listening to a group of old men at Colonel Simmons' camp discussing the active business conditions some of them supposed to exist in Oregon. As it existed to my mind as a totally new country, I ventured to reply to the opinion expressed by one that we should find money very plenty in Oregon. I said that there would be no money there; that we should have to depend upon what we raised from the soil and the wild game we killed. An old Virginian, in protest, replied: "No money there, John? Why, man alive, John, money grows thar!' and Simmons, in quite fun, added: "Yes, and feather beds grow on the bushes."
This was the sociable camp of a coterie of friends who became the first American settlers north of the Columbia River. They were G. W. Bush, M. T. Simmons, David Kindred, and Gabriel Jones. Mr. Bush was understood to be assisting Messrs. Kindred and Jones with necessary means. That night Mr. Kindred's youngest son was to be married by Rev. R. Cave, contrary, however, to the father's consent or wishes. The ceremony was not consummated, because the quiet, kindly old man sat up all night with a brace of old-time flintlock cavalry pistols to enforce his opposition.
