1. Rogue River Falls, 180 feet high.2. Vidae Cliff, Crater Lake, over 2,000 feet high.3. A point on Vidae Cliff.
What an immense affair it must have been, ages upon ages ago, when, long before the hot breath of a volcano soiled its hoary head, standing as a proudmonarch, with its feet upon earth and its head in the heavens, it towered far, far above the mountain ranges, aye, looked far down upon the snowy peaks of Hood and Shasta, and snuffed the air beyond the reach of Everest. Then streams of fire began to shoot forth, great seas of lava were hurled upon the earth beneath. The elements seemed bent upon establishing hell upon earth and fixing its throne upon this great mountain. At last its foundation gave way and it sank forever from sight. Down, down, down deep into the bowels of the earth, leaving a great, black, smoking chasm, which succeeding ages filled with pure, fresh water, giving to our day and generation one of the most beautiful lakes within the vision of man.
In conclusion I will say, Crater Lake is one of the grandest points of interest on earth. Here all the ingenuity of nature seems to have been exerted to the fullest capacity, to build one grand, awe-inspiring temple, within which to live and from which to gaze upon the surrounding world and say: "Here would I dwell and live forever. Here would I make my home from choice; the universe is my kingdom, and this my throne."
On Friday evening, August 24, 1888, S. S. Nicolini of Ragusa, Austria, E. D. Dewert of Portland, and the writer boarded the south-bound train for Grant's Pass, intent on a few days' outing. This town of Grant's Pass was so named for a pass in the mountains several miles south, where, in early days, the silent hero camped for the night.
Early Saturday morning my head was banged up against one end of our sleeping car, an instant after hearing the shrill whistle sounding down brakes. As soon as possible I got on the outside and found the engines standing within a few feet of a yawning chasm where a bridge had been. Now, however, seven bents had been burned away and a terrible railroad accident was averted by the quick eye of Engineer Elliott, who saw the fire as we turned the curve and stopped the train almost instantly.
At Grant's Pass, H. D., M. M. and F. M. Harkness joined us, and we started for the Josephine County Caves, about thirty miles due south, in the Siskiyou mountains. For twenty miles the trip was made over a very good road by wagon. At this point it became necessary to pack our things on two horses and walk over a trail into the mountains. On a hot day, thisportion of the trip is very laborious, owing to the fact that it is up the steep mountain side about two-thirds of the way, and down an equally steep incline the remainder. We arrived at our destination a little before noon on the 27th, and found two openings, one above the other, and about one hundred yards apart, on the south side of a deep canyon. When out hunting a few years since, Elijah Davidson, of Williams Creek, found a bear and chased it into the lower entrance, thus discovering the caves.
Each entrance is high enough to admit a person without stooping, and is probably about eight feet wide. At noon we entered the upper cave. For a few feet the floor inclined inward; we then descended a ladder for about six feet, and found ourselves in a passage way eight feet wide by an equal height, which changed, however, at every step. Now it would be wider, and now narrower, now higher, and now lower. Walls, ceiling and floor were composed of solid rock. To describe them, appropriately would simply be to use a gift made divine by inspiration. No man can behold them, then impart to others an accurate idea of their appearance. Soon after entering we were compelled to progress on hands and knees, then stood upright in chambers ten feet high, the walls of which were white. Stalactites were first seen here, and involuntarily we cast sly glances around to discover the bodies of kings preserved beneath such droppings in "King Solomon's Mines." We wandered from place to place, from chamber to chamber, dragging ourselvesthrough passage ways barely large enough to admit a human body, while with toes and fingers we worked along, or stood in the midst of rooms that reached far above us. Now we see a beautiful pool of clearest water, surrounded by a delicate crystal formation in the shape of a bowl. In color it is as white as the driven snow, while each crystal is oblong, projecting at right angles with the main portion for about an eighth of an inch. One peculiarity of these crystals that disappointed us was the fact that they change from white to a dull, yellowish color, immediately after being removed from the caves.
We were extremely anxious to try a new process for taking photographs in the dark, so Dewert took his camera and acted as photographer for the party. Owing to the limited space at times and cramped manner of locomotion it required the services of four men to carry the camera and accompanying necessities. Having reached a suitable place for a picture, the camera was first put in position, a board was laid on the top of it on which a tin reflector was placed, and a little powder called the lightning flash was then poured on the board in front of the reflector. At this point the order was given, "Douse the glim," and all lights were extinguished. The plate was exposed in perfect darkness, the powder was ignited, and instantly there was a flash of the most intense light. This light was so brilliant that, for several minutes, it caused in the eyes a glimmering sensation of light. Several photographs were taken in this way, whichwill doubtless prove excellent examples of what ingenuity can do in the dark.
It would require days of constant work to explore all the passages we found, whereas our time was limited to that portion of one day after 12 o'clock noon. For this reason we remained in the caves from noon to midnight, first examining the upper, then the lower one. This difference exists between them: The one above is possessed of fine stalactite formations, while below none appear. Instead, however, immense rocks are piled indiscriminately one upon the other, with great cracks between. Long ladders were used to climb to the top of the rocks, over the sides of which yawning pits could be seen that seemed to possess no bottom. Lack of time alone prevented us from making a thorough investigation, but I could not resist the temptation to climb over the side of one friendly rock for a few feet to see how it looked. Down for twenty feet the space remained unchanged, so that I could easily reach from rock to rock. It then widened out and I could proceed no farther without ropes, so I returned to the party. A fine stream of clear cold water flows from this cave and a strong breeze of cool air rushed forth also. At times in both upper and lower cave, the wind blew toward the entrance so that it was impossible to keep the lights burning. No traces of foul air have been found in either cave.
Before our visit, visions of square chambers filled my mind, only to be dashed aside when real ones presented themselves, the irregular shape of which couldnot well be surpassed. There are no parallel walls, few straight ones, but corners everywhere. The floor will pitch in all directions, likewise ceiling and walls. Beautiful views of stalactites and stalagmites stand out in bold relief against snow white walls. At the farthest extremity of the upper cave in one direction an immense chamber presents itself, and should be known as the devil's banquet hall. It is probably 75 × 150 feet and sixty in height. Great blocks of rock hang as by a thread from the ceiling, while on every side rocks of equal size lie in all conceivable shapes. Standing at the point of entry one looks at the opposite side and sees great cracks, yawning cavities with open mouths of blackness, dismal shadows, to which flickering lights give a ghoulish, dance-like appearance. Yes, the devil seems to be holding high carnival, while his imps would dance the night away. They bob up and down and swing their arms in fiendish glee, while the dance goes on forever. None can look therein without seeing these imps and their antics. The floor recedes rapidly from the entrance, and is composed of great rocks scattered in confusion. We placed a number of lighted candles in different places, then climbed to the opposite side to view them. The shadows had partially disappeared, crevices and holes in the walls not before seen became suddenly black and excited our curiosity, so we climbed over high rocks into unknown passages. In a small chamber on one side we found a beautiful stream of water, falling several feet into a crystal basin. The wallsof the chamber are white, and the effect by candle-light is very fine.
Midnight found us still employed, but we reluctantly ceased our labors and withdrew. Without unnecessary ceremony we wrapped our blankets about us, laid down beneath the stars, and slept the sleep of the just until 3 o'clock, when the dulcet notes of a coyote called us to the business of the day. Preparations were quickly made for the journey, and at daylight we were on our way to Grant's Pass, where we arrived at 9 o'clockP.M.
It is a curious fact that the home of Liberty has always been in the mountains. The reason for this is, that Nature intervenes every barrier to prevent conquests, and shields the native mountaineer from onslaughts of a foreign foe. The ringing words, "Make way for Liberty," could never have become immortal had it not been for a mountain pass. The memory of William Tell would not now be cherished by liberty-loving Swiss, were it not for the friendly crags of the Alps that sheltered him. Here in the Northwest we are blessed with a wonderful mountain range, extending from California through Oregon and Washington to British Columbia.
For beauty, grandeur and extent it has no superior; while as a field of defense, it simply stands unparalleled, and is rich in minerals, agriculture and commerce. Located at from forty to a hundred miles apart are the following mountain peaks, covered with perpetual snow: Baker, Rainier, Adams, St. Helens, Hood, Jefferson, Three Sisters, Pitt and Shasta. From each of these, convenient points of prominence are visible in the Coast Range, one or more of which in turn are visible from every harbor and city as far south as San Francisco. In case of a foreign war it is one of the possibilities of the Oregon Alpine Club toorganize a sort of Signal Corps, say five hundred men, each of whom would be thoroughly familiar with every pass, crevasse and crag in the mountains where detailed for service. With a liberal supply of provisions and ammunition on each peak, scarcely anything short of a pestilence could dislodge them. What could a foreign army do around Mt. Hood, for instance, with fifty resolute men well armed and equipped on the summit.
It has been but a few years since the entire force of the United States Army was successfully defied by Captain Jack and a dozen Indians in the Lava Beds; and yet we have here every advantage of the Lava Beds, to which is added precipices to the north, east and west, while to the south a narrow passage would permit men to ascend, but it is necessary to cut every step in the ice; while directly across the base of this precipitous glacier, a crevasse extends, of unknown depth, which varies in width from three to forty feet, according to the season. It is needless to say that every wounded member of the assaulting party would pay the penalty with his life, for the slightest misstep would hurl him into the crevasse where "moth doth not corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal." Now for the point of this article. Give to the corps a liberal supply of heliographs and instruct the men how to use them. In this way a perfect system of communication can be established by which messages can be sent from point to point in an instant. Say, for instance, that a hostile fleet waslying at Victoria and a descent on San Francisco was planned. From a spy within the enemy's lines, the party on Mt. Baker gathers full particulars, and immediately informs San Francisco of the contemplated attack, giving full particulars, including number of ships, men and guns.
Monday, August 14, 1889, Mr. J. Nichols, of Tacoma, and the writer, left Tacoma for Mt. Rainier, determined, if possible, to reach its highest point.
The provisions, blankets, alpine stocks (a hickory staff seven feet long with a steel point at one end), alpine ax and all that was necessary in making the ascent easy, were taken from Tacoma, while pack horses were procured at Yelm, a station twenty-five miles south of Tacoma, and from which the trail leads eastwardly to Mount Rainier. It first follows river bottoms, then mountains, ridges and river bottoms again, while an occasional fording of the glacial stream, lends interest to the ever-changing scenes. We aimed at the end of each day to camp where feed could be obtained for hard working horses. Darkness coming on as we reached the first ford, left in some doubt the exact location of the crossing, so camp was made on the bank of the river with nothing but oats for our tired horses. Daylight found us fording the river, which had risen during the night about ten inches, making it quite exciting as the foaming water splashed the horses' sides, and wet our feet and ankles.
Stopping at the first place where hay could be had, a stay of nearly two hours was made for breakfast for ourselves and horses.
From our last night's experience, we decided to carry hay with us and camp wherever night should overtake us, which was at the foot of a high mountain our trail led over, and on the bank of the river as before. The day was uneventful, if we omit mention of the many hornets' nests we passed through and the four pheasants which fell before the unerring aim of Nichol's rifle. The pheasants led us to a fitting close of the day in the shape of pheasants and dumplings, prepared by the writer and pronounced by Nichols (who, by the way, is an epicure) to be simplypar excellence. And here I might add that the writer is a single man.
The end of the third day found us at the Hotel Longmire at Hot Springs, located on the southwest slope of Mt. Rainier, at an altitude of three thousand feet, and some five miles from the perpetual snow limit. And no finer people ever lived than Mr. and Mrs. Longmire, who own and preside over the hotel and springs. The hotel material was cut by hand out of the finest grained cedar that ever grew—boards twelve inches wide and fifteen feet long—as perfect as though sawed.
As a matter of information for those interested, it might be well to say here that the waters of the springs are positively life-giving. The writer has visited many mineral springs, and has never seen anything that will compare with the stimulating and health-giving qualities of these springs.
But, to resume: we left the springs next morning, with a single pack horse, expecting to leave the horse at the top of the ridge (eight thousand feet altitude) overlooking Paradise valley, and, with blankets on our backs, to make our way to Ewing's camp, ten thousand five hundred feet above sea level. We reached Paradise valley, and, finding the same had been so well and truly named, decided to stop till next day and enjoy some of its beauties. Accordingly, camp was pitched, fire-wood gathered, and a camp fire built, and a pot of beans placed thereon. After a light lunch we strolled, enjoying the alpine beauties of the valley, well named Paradise.
During the afternoon the wind changed to the southwest, and clouds gradually spread over the firmament. From our experience a year ago on Mount Hood in a storm, at no higher altitude than we now were, no thought was given to ascending higher till fair weather and a northwest wind prevailed. Morning dawned and no indications of good weather. Our spirits were accordingly depressed. Observing the barometer, we found it moving quite rapidly in the direction of storm. By noon the sky was heavily overcast, and an hour later undercast as well.
By 3 o'clock rain began to fall. The wind had already risen to quite a gale. Re-staking our tent, digging a ditch around the head and sides, and piling wood and rocks along the edges to keep out the wind and rain, we crawled into our blankets and awaited developments. Soon the storm broke upon us withall its alpine fury, and raged during the entire night. By morning the rain had turned into sleet and snow, the thermometer, at daylight registering 34 degrees. Shortly the storm ceased. After some difficulty a fire was started and coffee made. Sampling our pot of beans, which had boiled at least four hours, we found them still hard; after an hour more boiling we emptied them on the ground, having learned that beans are hard to cook at an eight thousand foot altitude. Our barometer still indicating foul weather, we decided to start at once for a more congenial climate. Accordingly our shivering horses (which we had blanketed) were packed and four hours later we were at the Springs hotel, in a rather moody frame of mind. Tuesday morning all was clear, the barometer indicated fair weather, and we started early, reaching the 8500-foot ridge at 1p.m.Turning our horses loose to feed upon the succulent grass, we bound our blankets upon our backs and started for Ewing's camp, altitude 11,000 feet. Evening coming on, we made camp at 10,500. Clearing away the rocks, leaving a sandy bottom, we stretched our light, small tent, banking wet sand around the edges to keep out the piercing wind, which almost invariably blows at high altitudes. Placing our oilcloth over the damp, cool sand, we soon had a comfortable bed. For tent poles we used our alpine stocks, one of which was seven and one-half feet long. Our bed being satisfactorily arranged, we took notes on the scenery, temperature, etc. A haze hung over the valleys; in fact, it rose to a height of nine thousandfeet. The rosy-tinted summits of Hood, Adams and St. Helens towered away above it, however, reflecting the rays of the declining sun.
The chilliness of the temperature, 28 degrees, prevented us from remaining long outside our tent. Crawling in, we tightly fastened the flaps and really passed a comfortable night. Twenty minutes after 4a.m.found us astir, and at five o'clock we were under way.
We had scarcely as yet taken time to admire the beauties of the scene, so intent had we been on getting an early start so as to be able to return before sundown to our blankets and provisions.
We soon had an opportunity to admire the beauties around and below us, as climbing above eleven thousand feet altitude is productive of sudden stops for rest and breath.
We expected to reach the summit by noon, at latest; but on account of the icy condition of portions of the mountain side, it was necessary to cut steps over quite long stretches. This delayed us more than two hours. Twelve o'clock came and went and we were not quite to the top of the "big rock"—a large rock on the south side, the top of which is about two thousand feet below the summit.
By 1 o'clock we were past the rock several hundred yards. From here to the summit we crossed eight or nine crevasses. The snow or ice stood in pinnacles often six and seven feet high.
Three o'clock came and the top was still beyond us. Having no blankets or provisions, the question now presented itself: Could we make the summit and back over the dangerous points before dark. Not much talking was done, however, as breath was too precious; but we still pushed on.
At 4 o'clock we held a council of war and decided that since it was already so late we could not return before dark, and we would make for the summit, where steam caverns were said to exist, and where Messrs. Longmire and Van Trump stayed over night in '83. They found themselves in the same predicament we were now in, by their determination to reach the summit. This being settled, we pushed on, turned out of our way by first one and then another obstacle, until we found ourselves about one hundred feet, not more, below the summit of the highest western bump or dome. From this we descended about a hundred feet, and thence across a level piece of snow about one-third of a mile, to the foot of the main pinnacle, in which is located the crater.
Some three hundred feet (in altitude) more climbing, over ashes and fine pumice stone of the outside walls of the crater, and we stood on the apex of one of the highest mountains in the United States. Mr. Nichols claims the honor of being the first and only Tacomaite who has reached the summit.
1. Snowballing on Mt. St. Helens, July 22d, 1889.2. Summit of Mt. Hood, looking West.3. Illumination Rock on Mt. Hood.
It was now 5:10p.m., the thermometer registering 23° above zero; and having no blankets, our firstbusiness was to find a warm place in the steam to pass the night. Steam could be seen issuing from a dozen different places on the inside rim of the crater, say sixty to seventy feet below the crest.
Writing our names on a card, with a short account of the climb, we placed it inside of a small box, on which was inscribed, "Oregon Alpine Club, Portland." This was left on the top of the ridge. We heaped rocks around it to prevent the wind from blowing it away. We soon found a sort of semi-spherical opening in the rocks, from which the warm steam poured forth. Clearing away the rocks, leaving a sandy bottom, we built a wall of rocks two feet in height to break the wind, and then turned our attention to looking for canned corned beef.
We were told a can had been left there by Prof. Ingram's party ten days before. This was soon found, together with a package of French chocolate, a box of sardines and some cheese. We were already the possessors of one lemon. As nothing more was needed we got into our den. Taking a cup found lashed to a rock on the crest of the crater and filling it with snow we placed it in our oven and soon had plenty of water.
We ate some lunch, but fourteen and fifteen thousand foot altitudes are not productive of strong appetites, so we ate sparingly, and being so completely exhausted soon fell asleep.
About 8 o'clockp.m., we were rudely awakened by what appeared to be a dash of ice water in our facesand down our necks. The sky being clear the ice water was explained a few moments later. The wind had arisen and was drifting dry snow—(eight inches of which had fallen Sunday)—from a bank about fifteen feet distant, against the sloping roof and walls of our warm den; thus the snow was turned to water by the time it reached our faces. To prevent being so rudely drenched again we removed our coats, which were then wrapped around our heads.
The wind having veered to the west, some anxiety was felt that a storm might arise before we could return. However, fortune smiled upon us in our dizzy resting place so far above the clouds, and morning dawned clear, cold and beautiful.
Upon the first gleams of the sun we made for the ridge for our dry clothes, which were placed there before retiring to our den the night before. We had fortunately worn two suits of heavy underclothes, two pairs of pants and two coats, so we now had dry clothes, and well it was we took the precaution of removing a suit and placing it out of the way of the wet steam. Before we could return to our den every vestige of clothing, including a soft hat, was frozen stiff. The cold seemed to strike at once clear through. The agility with which we got into our steam chest would have been amusing to an uninitiated observer. We were soon warm again, and by slight assistance from each other, our dripping clothes were soon changed for dry ones. Mounting the ridge of the crater on the highest side, sunrise observations were taken.The sun appearing above the eastern horizon tinted Rainier's top with molten silver, while the country beneath was still wrapped in shade. Not many moments elapsed till the adjacent mountains, Hood, Adams and St. Helens, one by one in order named, donned their silvery shields like mighty giants in battle attitude, defending themselves against the sun, their common enemy. The effect at this time was grand, indeed, the heavy rains of two days previous having entirely dissipated the smoke.
Eastward all was clear, while westward, nearly fifteen thousand feet below, the valleys and lowlands were hidden beneath billowy clouds, which, like the mountain tops, soon turned from gray to shining silver.
Soon Sol's rays had reached the western horizon. Mountain shadows now appeared reaching westward to the limit of our vision; the jagged edges resting on hills and plains and valleys contributed to a changing scene, the memory of which will last so long as life is given.
Our selfish aim more than attained, we were satisfied and determined at once to descend to earth, from whence we came. Our determination being carried out, we reached Hot Springs at 8p.m., and Tacoma three days later.
CHAS. H. GOVE,Of Oregon Alpine Club.
Adams, Mt.—Called by Winthrop, Tacoma the Second (1853). Named for President Adams.Indian name Pat-to, signifying high. This name was applied to snow caps generally by the Indians.
Baker, Mt.—Named for Lieut. Baker by Vancouver, when discovered April 30, 1792.Called by Winthrop (1853), Kulshan; possibly the Indian name.Referred to by the Spanish as Montana del Carmelo.Called Mt. Polk by the Americans (1846).
Bitter Root Range.—Same as the Cœur d'Alene mountains.
Coffin, Mt.—Originally used as an Indian burying ground and named by Lieut. Broughton (1792).
Castle Rock.—Referred to by Lewis and Clark as Beacon Rock (1805). Subsequently called Castle Rock, because of its appearance.
Cascades.—Known as President's Range (1846). The mountains were named for the cascades of the Columbia river.
Cape Horn.—So named because of the difficulty experienced in doubling it (1812.)
Goat Mountain.—Called Plas (long sound of a) by the Indians, meaning white. So called because of the white rocks. Mountain goats formerly abounded in that vicinity, hence the present name.
Hood, Mt.—Discovered by Broughton, October 29, 1792, and named for Lord Hood of England. General Indian name, Pat-to. An active volcano in 1846. Same as Mt. Washington of the Americans (1846).
Jefferson, Mt.—Discovered by Lewis and Clark and named for President Jefferson, 1806. Same as Mt. Vancouver of the British (1846).
McLaughlin, Mt.—Lat. 43° 30'. Named for John McLaughlin who established Vancouver, introduced live stock, fruit, vegetables and grain. Same as Mt. Madison of the Americans (1846). Sometimes called Diamond Peak.
Oregon.—First used by Capt. Jonathan Carver in a book published in London (1774). The name appeared in the following statement: "The river Bourbon empties itself into Hudson's Bay; the waters of St. Lawrence; the Mississippi and the river Oregon, or the River of the West, that falls into the Pacific ocean at the straits of Anian." Numerous theories are advanced as to the origin of the name with Carver, but nothing conclusive is shown on the subject. The original Oregon embraced an uncertain portion of the entire Northwest (1578), called by the British New Albion. One portion of it was called New Georgia (1792), and another (1806), New Caledonia by British traders.The Spanish government designated the entire country (1790), as "The Coast of California, in the South Sea."
Olympus, Mt.—Was discovered by Juan Perez, a Spanish pilot, and called El Cero de la Santa Rosalia. Named Olympus by Capt. Mears, July 4, 1788. Same as Mt. Van Buren (1846).
Puget Sound.—Named by Vancouver for his lieutenant, Peter Puget, the discoverer, May 19th, 1792. Known among the Indians as Whulge, also as K' uk' lults.
Rainier, Mt.—Discovered by Vancouver in May, 1792, and named for Rear Admiral Rainier of the English navy. Sometimes called Mt. Tacoma. Called Mt. Harrison by the Americans (1846). See pages55,57and59.
Rocky Mountains.—Named by the Verendrye brothers (1742). First called Stony Mountains.
Saddle Mt.—Called by the Indians, "Swallalahoost." Named by Wilkes, Saddle Mountain (1842), on account of its shape.
St. Helens, Mt.—Discovered by Broughton of Vancouver's party, October 20, 1792, and named in honor of His Majesty's ambassador at Madrid. Known among Americans as Mt. Washington (1846), as also Mt. John Adams. Called by the Indians Lou-wala-clough, meaning smoking mountain.
Tillamook Head.—(1806), originally spelled Killamook. Lewis and Clark refer to it as "Clark's Point of View."
Tacoma, Mt.—See Rainier, also pages55,57and59.
Nisqually and Skokomish Agency, }Tacoma, W. T., Dec. 8, 1886. }
W. G. Steel,Portland, Oregon:
Dear Sir:—I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of Sept. 21st, making certain inquiries about the change of the name of Mt. Rainier to that of Tacoma. Upon careful and diligent inquiry among the Puyallup Indians, I find the following to be the true condition of things:
There is a general impression that the name Tacoma was the original name of the mountain among Indians, and that it signified "nourishing mother," and was so named on account of its being the source of a number of rivers which head there and flow into the waters of Puget Sound. This, I find to be entirely erroneous. The Indian word isTa-ko-betorTa-ke-man, the first being the most general pronunciation used among these Indians, but both words are used, being the different pronunciation used by the dialects. It means a white mountain, and is a general name for any high, snow-covered, or white, treeless peak. It is applied to this mountain by the Indians of this vicinity, because it is the only, or most prominent one of the kind in the vicinity. They usethe word as we would speak of "The White Mountain," there being but one near us. In the Skadgit language, the word is a little different, and is there calledKo-ma, and is applied by these Indians to Mt. Baker, it being the mountain in that vicinity of the kind. The wordSqua-tach, orSquat-letsh, is a general name for a range of mountains, whileTa-ko-betorTa-ko-manorKo-mais the name of the snow covered or white peaks in the range.
This information I have gained from inquiry of the Indians with whom I have come in contact and who live near here. I inclose a statement written out by Rev. Peter Stanup, an educated Indian of the Puyallup tribe, and who is unusually well informed on such matters.
As to when it was first applied and by whom I am not so well advised; but from what I do know, I understand that it was first applied to the mountains by the whites about twelve years ago, and at the same time that the town of Tacoma was laid out and located by the Northern Pacific Railroad Company, or some of its attaches. I understand that the attempt was made by the N. P. R. R. Co. to have the name changed, and that it still makes strenuous efforts to do so. The people of the town of Tacoma, and the members of the Tacoma Land Company as well as the R. R. Co., above named, all try hard to have the mountain called by that name; while the residents of the other part of the Territory, west of the Cascade mountainsand especially of Seattle, are very much opposed to the change, and continue to call it by its first name. I think that the facts are that the name Tacoma is an attempted imitation of an Indian term applied to any high, snow-covered peak, but which was supposed to be the special name of this peak, because generally used by the Indians of this vicinity, and that it was applied to this mountain at the time the town of Tacoma was located and named by the N. P. R. R. Co., for the purpose of bringing into note its western terminus.
Yours Respectfully,
EDWIN EELLS,U. S. Indian Agent.
Ta-ko-manis a name used by many different Indian tribes of this Territory, with the same meaning and a slight variation of pronunciation by each different tribe. It is the name or word from which Tacoma was derived. It originated among the inland Indians. The meaning ofTa-ko-manis a high, treeless, white or light colored peak or mound. The name is applicable to any peak or mound as described, but is generally used for one that is distinguished, or highly honored. AndSqua-tach, to climb, andSba-datemountain, are mostly used for all mountains and peaks. The individual name of Mt. Tacoma isTwhauk, which was derived fromTwheque, snow, andSwheque ad. Bright, clear, cloudless sky.Ta-ko-manis mostly used for the Mt. Tacoma, as it is held with much respect and esteemed by nearly all the Indians of the Northwest. The reason for conferring the great honor uponTwhauk, is that the second syllableko, means water, corresponding with the water, or little lake on top of the mountain, and also in that lake is a great abundance of valuable shells, from which the Indians made their nose and ear-rings, and other valuable jewelry.
This beautiful name of the city whose rapid and marvellous growth and development have been unparalleled even in our Western civilization, is a pure invention. Its very euphony divests it of all claim as the Indian nomination of Old Mount Rainier, the name conferred by the illustrious circumnavigator, George Vancouver, borne for a century upon the map of the world.
Tacoma is a word of extremely modern origin, invented, or used first by Lieut. Theodore Winthrop, U. S. Army, in his readable book—"Canoe and Saddle." The writer of these thoughts first heard it late in the "sixties," when Capt. D. B. Finch, among the pioneers of steam navigation on Puget Sound, presented a building in Olympia to the Good Templars, and his gift was christened "Tacoma Hall." Contemporaneously Tacoma City, now the first ward of Tacoma, was thus named by some Portland town-builders—Gen. McCarver, Lewis M. Starr and James Steel. The then leading hotel of Olympia, about the same time, assumed that title and wore it for several years; but a whole decade passed before the attempt was made to obliterate the time-honored name of the great mountain peak of Northwest America, conferred at the first visit of white men to Commencement Bay in1792. Late in 1878, a lithograph map and bird's-eye view of the embryo city of New Tacoma was published under the patronage of the Tacoma Land Company, entitled—"New Tacoma and Mount Rainier"—issued in 1880. At that date the name "Tacoma" existed, but it was not applied to the mountain; nor was it even dreamed that the town was named from the Indian name of the mountain. The fact is that the name, "Mount Tacoma," has been recently conferred on the mountain by white men. A decade back, the name will not be found on the maps of Washington Territory, and it is to be hoped that the attempt to obliterate from the map of the world the name conferred by that illustrious contributor to geographic science, Captain George Vancouver, R. N., will prove unsuccessful.
When Gen. Hazard Stevens, and that splendid scholar and writer, P. B. Van Trump, Esq., ascended the grand old mountain, the pronunciation and spelling of the name which Gen. Stevens, in his narrative, ascribed to the mountain, was still unsettled. He spelt the word Te-ho-ma. The "h" being aspirated really represents an Indian guttural grunt without beauty or even resolving itself into a well-defined consonant.
In the year 1882, the writer was invited to perform the role of orator on Independence Day at the beautiful settlement called Puyallup. The committee coupled with the invitation the expressed desire that the theme should be Puget Sound reminiscences—the early settlement of Pierce county. He adopted as a starting theme the thoughts suggested by the words "Tacoma" and "Puyallup," or their origin thus euphonized into household words of significance and anglicised beauty, bearing but little resemblance in sound to the half-uttered nasal grunts of the fish-eating natives of Puget Sound, whose syllables are "without form and void;" their language, if such it be considered, acquiring meaning or intensity of signification when accompanied by pantomimic motion, speaking far more than all their syllabic combinations. Through the valued assistance of that veteran Indian student and interlocutor, John Flett, some twenty aged, prominent Indians, who would not deign to talk other than their own dialect, who despised even the Chinook Jargon, but adhered to the grunts and syllabic utterances and the pantomime of their race for the ages before the advent of the Hudson's Bay Company or American settlers, gathered in the writer's office in New Tacoma, as the city of Tacoma was then called, and seated on the floor for hours discussed what they called the mountains and mountain range, its surrounding and attributes. About half were of the White river bands, those who originally lived on the sources of the streams issuing from Mount Rainier. The remainder were Puyallups and 'Squallys, whose original haunts were near the Sound. The form was to put the writer's question or wish for information into Chinook Jargon, which was then translated into the Indiandialect. The old men expressed themselves in their native utterances. It would be the grossest perversion to call their answers "words." They were not so couched—at best, strong syllabic utterances—mere grunts, at times which, with eloquent pantomime, assumed grand and eloquent thought and meaning, when translated, to give just expression arising to poetry of ideas, but as a language, technically so considered, poverty-stricken to the greatest degree, and without its accompanied earnestness of movement, without a single attribute of beauty or euphonism.
That interesting study and those comparative views, by old men of the mountain and the sea, extended through hours; and the writer will never forget the eloquence of action required and used by those aged natives, which more than compensated that paucity of syllables or words, which we call language. No such word of beauty as "Tacoma" could possibly be coined by them, nor result from any combination of their uttered but significant grunts, their attempted vocalization of thoughts or ideas. True, there were syllabic emissions of sound which might be resolved into words by toning down grunts and inharmonious belchings of thoughts rather than their legitimate utterances. The manner of conducting that "interview" was the assumption that the word "Tacoma," or some kindred appropriate word identified the grand old mountain in their language; in other words, their attention was invited to the fact, that our people had been told that "Tacoma" was the native name ofthe mountain. Then began the expression by all, in turn, as to the Indian method of referring to great landmarks, mountains individual and in range, rivers, etc., when talking with each other. Their views on the information communicated found expression in several varied, combined characteristic grunts and shrugs, which were interspersed with some analogous syllables or utterances from which Indian philologists have resolved words, some of which have more or less resemblance to some of the syllables embraced in the word Tacoma, or that word as spelled by different writers. They then detailed their reasons for so speaking of the mountain or any of its natural surroundings or physical features. In that colloquy, no two of those Indians pronounced the same word or used that same guttural utterance or combination of syllables. All were especially interrogated as to the snow-capped mountain. All gave the meaning or idea that they knew as to the cause for a name, by which any other could identify it, and the significance of the utterances by each adopted in referring to it.
Each band, not to say each individual, had a peculiar reason for his name of it, contingent upon color, shape or function. In that interview, the literal translations of their syllabic combinations appertaining more or less in sound to the syllables constituting the name Tacoma—Te-ho-ma, Ta-ko-ber, Tak-o-man, etc., as rendered by the venerable John Flett, a truthful, skillful and reliable Indian authority was—"Awoman's breast that feeds," a "nourishing breast." To one band, the shape of the cone suggested the breast shape for a name; to another, the milky whiteness was a reminder of the source of nourishment; to another, the color of the streams which flow down from the mountain in the annual freshets, gave origin to the idea of the generous fountain of the great milk-white breast-shaped sentinel for ages; while the Puyallups and 'Squallys, more practical in view, associated the fact that from the mountain rushed the torrents of white water, resembling milk, which fertilized the valleys of Puget Sound. While such was the conversation and speech of those old patriarchs, several of whom had lived to become octogenarians, communicated as above stated, the writer is well aware that across the mountain chain, residing in the vicinity of the mountain, that several bands of the Klickitat nation attach different meanings for synonymous syllabic combinations approximating in sound to the combinations referred to used by Western Washington bands, with shades of meaning more practical, less figurative, less Indian; but the writer has been content to accept as authority, at all events so far as the Aborigines of Western Washington are concerned, the result of the conference of Indian patriarchs convened at his instance in 1882. While that conference failed to establish that there was such an Indian word as "Tacoma," or that these Indians had any distinctive Indian names for "Mount Rainier," or that there was any recognized Indian name known to the several tribes; yet, the different bands did use such syllabic utterances, by which they referred to the mountain chain, to the leading mountain of the chain. That color, shape, and attributed function, suggested such expression, and that the combination of syllables which have been so euphoniously metamorphosed into the beautiful word "Tacoma," when pronounced by them in its native utterances, meant as herein expressed. The writer, however, finds no warrant for adopting Tacoma as an Indian word, nor does he believe that such word, or its approximate, was a name conferred by Indians upon the mountain, or exclusively recognized as the name of the mountain by the original natives of this region.
ELWOOD EVANS.