^70 THE CITY OF PORTLAND
An Indian squaw, whose husband was in The Dalles, had taken advantage of the opportunity to join Lieutenant Myers' party there. Her knowledge of the Nez Perces tongue, and her acquaintance with the Indians of the escort, proved a valuable asset to the Americans. She warned Lieut. Myers of the treachery of the ten men, who soon began to complain of the weariness of their horses and to insist on stopping to rest and graze. Upon Lieut. Myers insisting that they should continue the advance, they began to lag behind at every excuse, had continual trouble with their saddles, lost articles, and so on, and impeded the progress of the party by every possible means short of open mutiny.
The trustworthy men of the party were carefully divided, Lieut. Wright in the lead, the faithful Indians scattered through the line and Lieut. Myers bring- ing up the rear, watching continually lest some of the doubtful ones should drop back to possible pursuers. It was not long before it became evident that such pursuers were behind them, and after riding some thirty miles, the Indians were so near that the white men could hear their cries as they urged their horses on the chase.
The white men were impeded by the number of horses which they had to drive in the darkness, over a simple trail through the prairie, and their more intractable Indians, but their pursuers had also a disadvantage in the fact that their horses were fatigued by the difficult swim across the Snake river, and had been kept traveling at top speed ever since their scout had brought them news of the start of the whites.
The last fifty miles of the ride was a race, and the freshness and endurance of the horses were the deciding factors. This was all in favor of the Americans. It was a long hard chase, meaning ninety miles of riding without a moment's stop or rest, but Myers' party pushed on at top speed, until at length in the early hours of the morning mounting the crest of a canyon, they saw the gleam of camp fires in the darkness. The Yakimas were so near that their shouts could be distinctly heard, and no one knew whether the lights ahead meant a white man's camp, or an advance guard of the Indian enemy, sent on to intercept the returning party. Lieut. Myers instructed Lieut. Wright to advance slowly and quietly and endeavor to ascertain the nature of the camp. The canyon side was covered with a rank growth of tall grass high enough to conceal a horseman almost entirely, and Lieut. Wright succeeded in getting very near to the camp light, when he suddenly heard in the darkness near at hand, the well known voice of Capt. Wilbur saying, "There's someone coming now." Wilbur and Johnny Cre- peaux, a French trapper, were on the lookout for Myers and his men, and in the camp behind them were a few who had remained on the watch, hoping to be able to assist the returning horsemen on the last stretch of their journey. A few hurried words explained the circumstances, and Capt. Wilbur, and Crepeaux ran to the camp to warn their companions. By the time Lieut. Myers, with his rear guard had reached the camp, the camp was broken up, the horses saddled and bridled and the men ready to join the Myers' party in their race for the main camp. Without stopping for a word of greeting, they dashed on, but when the Indian pursuers perceived the increase to the party, and realized that the main body of the regiment might be near at hand, they abandoned the pursuit.
By breakfast time, the white men worn, hungry and well night exhausted with the long strain of the chase, rode into the camp and reported to Col. Cor- nelius, with the horses that had cost them so much in weariness, effort and danger, but meant so much to the success of the American settlers in their con- test with the Indians.
INDIAN WAR VETERANS.
The Indian War Veterans, once numbering thousands, are now all too rapidly answering to the final roll-call. But nineteen Posts, and a membership of 591
