Blazing The Way Part 34

PAT KANEM.

The subject of this sketch was one of the most interesting characters brought into prominence by the conflict of the two races in early days of conquest in the Northwest. That he was sometimes misunderstood was inevitable as he was self-contained and independent in his nature and probably concealed his motives from friend and foe alike.

The opinion of the Indians was not wholly favorable to him as he became friendly to the white people, especially so toward some who were influential.

Pat Kanem was one of seven brothers, his mother a Snoqualmie of which tribe he was the recognized leader, his father, of another tribe, the Soljampsh.

It is said that he planned the extermination or driving out of the whites and brought about a collision at old Fort Nesqually in 1849, when Leander Wallace was killed, he and his warriors having picked a quarrel with the Indians in that vicinity who ran to the fort for protection. It seems impossible to ascertain the facts as to the intention of the Snoqualmies because of conflicting accounts. Some who are well acquainted with the Indians think it was a quarrel, pure and simple, between the Indians camped near by and the visiting Snoqualmies, without any ulterior design upon the white men or upon the fort itself. Also, Leander Wallace persisted in boasting that he could settle the difficulty with a club and contrary to the persuasions of the people in the fort went outside, thereby losing his life.

Four of Pat Kanem's brothers were arrested; and although one shot killed Wallace, two Indians were hung, a proceeding which would hardly have followed had they been white men. John Kanem, one of Pat Kanem's brothers, often visited Mr. and Mrs. D. T. Denny afterward, and would repeat again and again, "They killed my brother" (Kluskie mem-a-loose nika ow).

A Snoqualmie Indian in an interview recently said that Qushun (Little Cloud) persuaded Pat Kanem to give up his brother so that he might surely obtain and maintain the chiefs.h.i.+p. Whatever may have been his att.i.tude at first toward the white invaders he afterward became their ally in subduing the Indian outbreak.

As A. A. Denny recounts in his valuable work "Pioneer Days on Puget Sound," Pat Kanem gave him a.s.surance of his steadfast friends.h.i.+p before the war and further demonstrated it by appearing according to previous agreement, accompanied by women and children of the tribe, obviously a peace party, with gifts of choice game which he presented on board to the captain of the "Decatur."

With half a hundred or more of his warriors, his services were accepted by the governor and they applied themselves to the gruesome industry of taking heads from the hostile ranks. Eighty dollars for a chief's head and twenty for a warrior's were the rewards offered.

Lieut. Phelps, gratefully remembered by the settlers of Seattle, thus described his appearance at Olympia, after having invested some of his pay in "Boston ictas" (clothes): "Pat Kanem was arrayed in citizen's garb, including congress gaiters, white kid gloves, and a white s.h.i.+rt with standing collar reaching half-way up his ears, and the whole finished off with a flaming red neck-tie."

Pat Kanem died while yet young; he must have been regarded with affection by his people. Years afterward when one of his tribe visited an old pioneer, he was given a photograph of Pat Kanem to look at; wondering at his silence the family were struck by observing that he was gazing intently on the pictured semblance of his dead and gone chieftain, while great tears rolled unchecked down the bronze cheeks.

What thoughts of past prosperity, the happy, roving life of the long ago and those who mingled in it, he may have had, we cannot tell.

STUDAH.

Studah, or Williams, was one of three sons of a very old Duwampsh chief, "Queaucton," who brought them to A. A. Denny asking that he give them "Boston" names. He complied by calling them Tec.u.mseh, Keokuk and William.

The following sketch was written by Rev. G. F. Whitworth, a well-known pioneer:

"William, the chief of the surviving Indians of the Duwampsh tribe, died at the Indian camp on Cedar River on Wednesday, April 1. He was one of the few remaining Indians who were at all prominent in the early settlement of this country, and is almost, if not actually, the last of those who were ever friendly to the whites. His father, who died about the time that the first white settlements were made in this country, was the princ.i.p.al or head chief of the Duwamish Indians. He left three sons, Tec.u.mseh, Keokuk and William. All of whom are now dead. Tec.u.mseh, presumably the eldest son, succeeded his father, and was recognized as chief until he was deposed by Capt. (now Gen.) Dent, U. S. A., who acted under authority of the United States government in relation to the Indians, at that time. He had some characteristics which seemed to disqualify him for the office, while on the other hand William seemed pre-eminently fitted to fill the position, and was therefore chief and had been recognized both by whites and Indians up to the time of his death.

"At the time of the Indian war, he, like Seattle and Curley, was a true friend of the whites. The night before Seattle was attacked there was a council of war held in the woods back of the town, and William attended that council, and his voice was heard for peace and against war. He was always friendly to the whites, and for nearly forty years he has been faithful in his friends.h.i.+p to E. W. Smithers, to whom I am indebted for much of the information contained in this article.

"Those who knew William will remember that he was distinguished for natural dignity of manner. He was an earnest and sincere Catholic, was a thoroughly good Indian, greatly respected by his tribe, and having the confidence of those among the whites who knew him. William was an orator and quite eloquent in his own language. On one occasion shortly after Capt. Hill, U. S. A., came to the territory, some complaints had been made to the superintendent, which were afterwards learned to be unfounded, asking to have the Duwamish Indians removed from Black River to the reservation. Capt. Hill was sent to perform this service, and went with a steamer to their camp, which was on Mr. Smither's farm, a little above the railroad bridge. The captain was accompanied by United States Agent Finkbonner, and on his arrival at the camp addressed the Indians, through an interpreter, informing them of the nature of his errand, and directing them to gather their 'ictas' without delay and go on board the steamer, to be at once conveyed to the reservation. William and his Indians listened respectfully to the captain, and when he had closed his remarks William made his reply.

"His speech was about an hour in length, in which his eloquence was clearly exhibited. He replied that the father at Olympia or the Great Father at Was.h.i.+ngton City, had no right to remove his tribe. They were peaceful, had done no wrong. They were under no obligation to the government, had received nothing at its hands, and had asked for nothing; they had entered into no treaty; their lands had been taken from them. This, however, was their home. He had been born on Cedar River, and there he intended to remain, and there his bones should be laid. They were not willing to be removed. They could not be removed. He might bring the soldiers to take them, but when they should come he would not find them, for they would flee and hide themselves in the 'stick' (the woods) where the soldiers could not find them. Capt. Hill found himself in a dilemma, out of which he was extricated by Mr.

Smithers, who convinced the captain that the complaints were unfounded, and that with two or three exceptions those who had signed the complaint and made the request did not reside in that neighborhood, but lived miles away. They were living on Mr.

Smithers' land with his consent, and when he further guaranteed their good behavior, and Mrs. Smithers a.s.sured him that she had no fears and no grievance, but that when Mr. Smithers was away she considered them a protection rather than otherwise, the captain concluded to return without them, and to report the facts as he found them.

"William's last message was sent to Mr. Smithers a few days before he died, and was a request that he would see that he was laid to rest as befitted his rank, and not allow him to be buried like a seedy old vagrant, as many of the newcomers considered him to be.

"It is hardly necessary for me to say that this request was faithfully complied with, and that on Friday, April 3, his remains were interred in the Indian burying ground near Renton.

The funeral was a large one, Indians from far and near coming to render their last tribute of respect to his memory.

"From the time of his birth until his death he had lived in the region of Cedar and Black Rivers, seventy-nine years.

"His successor as chief will be his nephew, Rogers, who is a son of Tec.u.mseh."

"ANGELINE."

Ka-ki-is-il-ma, called Angeline by the white settlers, about whom so much has been written, was a daughter of Sealth.

In an interview, some interesting facts were elicited.

Angeline saw white people first at Nesqually, "King George" people, the Indians called the Hudson Bay Company's agents and followers.

She saw the brothers of Pat Kanem arrested for the killing of Wallace; she said that Sealth thought it was right that the two Snoqualmies were executed.

When a little girl she wore deerskin robes or long coats and a collar of sh.e.l.ls; in those days her tribe made three kinds of robes, some of "suwella," "shulth" or mountain beaver fur, and of deer-skins; the third was possibly woven, as they made blankets of mountain sheep's wool and goat's hair.

Angeline was first married to a big chief of the Skagits, Dokubkun by name; her second husband was Talisha, a Duwampsh chief. She was a widow of about forty-five when Americans settled on Elliott Bay. Two daughters, Chewatum or Betsy and Mamie, were her only children known to the white people, and both married white men. Betsy committed suicide by hanging herself in the shed room of a house on Commercial Street, tying herself to a rafter by a red bandanna handkerchief. Betsy left an infant son, since grown up, who lived with Angeline many years. Mary or Mamie married Wm. DeShaw and has been dead for some time.

It has been said that some are born great, some achieve greatness, while others have greatness thrust upon them. Of the last described cla.s.s, Angeline was a s.h.i.+ning representative. Souvenir spoons, photographs, and cups bearing her likeness have doubtless traveled over a considerable portion of the civilized world, all of the notoriety arising therefrom certainly being unsought by the poor old Indian woman.

Newspaper reporters, paragraphers, and magazine writers have never wearied of limning her life, recounting even the smallest incidents and making of her a conspicuous figure in the literature of the Northwest.

It quite naturally follows that some absurd things have been written, some heartless, others pathetic and of real literary value, although it has been difficult for the tenderfoot to avoid errors. Upon the event of her death, which occurred on Sunday, May 31st, 1896, a leading paper published an editorial in which a brief outline of the building of the city witnessed by Angeline was given and is here inserted:

"Angeline, as she had been named by the early settlers, had seen many wonders. Born on the lonely sh.o.r.es of an unknown country, reared in the primeval forest, she saw all the progress of modern civilization. She saw the first cabin of the pioneer; the struggles for existence on the part of the white man with nature; the hewing of the log, then the work of the sawmill, the revolt of the aboriginal inhabitants against the intruder and the subjugation of the inferior race; the growth from one hut to a village; from village to town; the swelling population with its concomitants of stores, s.h.i.+ps and collateral industries; the platting of a town; the organization of government; the acc.u.mulation of commerce; the advent of railroads and locomotives; of steams.h.i.+ps and great engines of maritime warfare; the destruction of a town by fire and the marvelous energy which built upon its site, a city. Where there had been a handful of shacks she saw a city of sixty thousand people; in place of a few canoes she saw a great fleet of vessels, stern-wheelers, side-wheelers, propellers, whalebacks, the Charleston and Monterey. She saw the streets lighted by electricity; saw the telephone, elevators and many other wonders.

"Death came to her as it does to all; but it came as the precursor of extinction, it adds another link in the chain which exemplifies the survival of the fittest."

These comments are coldly judicial and exactly after the mind of the unsympathetic tenderfoot or the "hard case" of early days. In speaking of the "survival of the fittest" and the "subjugation of the inferior race" a contrast is drawn flattering to the white race, but any mention of the incalculable injury, outrages, indignities and villainies practiced upon the native inhabitants by evil white men is carefully avoided. Angeline "saw" a good many other things not mentioned in the above eulogy upon civilization. She saw the wreck wrought by the white man's drink; the Indians never made a fermented liquor of their own.

Angeline said that her father, Sealth, once owned all the land on which Seattle is built, that he was friendly to the white people and wanted them to have the land; that she was glad to see fine buildings, stores and such like, but not the saloons; she did not like it at all that the white people built saloons and Joe, her grandson, would go to them and get drunk and then they made her pay five dollars to get him out of jail!

However, I will not dwell here on the dark side of the poor Indians'

history, I turn therefore to more pleasant reminiscence.

Ankuti (a great while ago) when the days were long and happy, in the time of wild blackberries, two pioneer women with their children, of whom the writer was one, embarked with Angeline and Mamie in a canoe, under the old laurel (madrona) tree and paddled down Elliott Bay to a fine blackberry patch on W. N. Bell's claim.

After wandering about a long while they sat down to rest on mossy logs beside the trail. They sat facing the water, the day was waning, and as they thought of their return one of them said, "O look at the canoe!" It was far out on the s.h.i.+ning water; the tide had come up while the party wandered in the woods and the canoe, with its stake, was quite a distance from the bank. Mamie ran down the trail to the beach, took off her moccasins and swam out to the canoe, her mother and the rest intently watching her. Then she dived down to the bottom; as her round, black head disappeared beneath the rippling surface, Angeline said "Now she's gone." But in a few moments we breathed a sigh of relief as up she rose, having pulled up the stake, and climbed into the canoe, although how she did it one cannot tell, and paddled to the sh.o.r.e to take in the happy crew. This little incident, but more especially the scene, the forms and faces of my friends, the dark forest, moss-cus.h.i.+oned seats under drooping branches, and the graceful canoe afloat on the silvery water--and it _did_ seem for a few, long moments that Mamie was gone as Angeline said in her anxiety for her child's safety showing she too was a human mother--all this has never left my memory!

Angeline lived for many years in her little shanty near the water front, a.s.sisted often with food and clothing from kindly white friends. She had a determination to live, die and be buried in Seattle, as it was her home, and that, too, near her old pioneer friends, thus typifying one of the dearest wishes of the Indians.

She was one of the good Indian washerwomen, gratefully remembered by pioneer housewives. These faithful servitors took on them much toil, wearing and wearisome, now accomplished by machinery or Chinese.

The world is still deceived by the external appearance; but even the toad "ugly and venomous" was credited with a jewel in its head.

Now Angeline was ugly and untidy, and all that, but not as soulless as some who relegated her to the lowest cla.s.s of living creatures.

A white friend whom she often visited, Mrs. Sarah Kellogg, said to the writer, "Angeline lived up to the light she had; she was honest and would never take anything that was offered her unless she needed it. I always made her some little present, saying, 'Well, Angeline, what do you want? Some sugar?' 'No, I have plenty of sugar, I would like a little tea.' So it was with anything else mentioned, if she was supplied she said so. I had not seen her for quite a while at one time, and hearing she was sick sent my husband to the door of her shack to inquire after her. Sure enough she lay in her bunk unable to rise. When asked if she wanted anything to eat, she replied, 'No, I have plenty of muck-amuck; Arthur Denny sent me a box full, but I want some candles and matches.'

"She told me that she was getting old and might die any time and that she never went to bed without saying her prayers.