The Log School-House on the Columbia | Page 4

has proved
to be worth to our country more than all the money that has been given
to missionary enterprises. Should the Puget Sound cities become the

great ports of Asia, and the ships of commerce drift from Seattle and
Tacoma over the Japan current to the Flowery Isles and China; should
the lumber, coal, minerals, and wheat-fields of Washington, Oregon,
Montana, and Idaho at last compel these cities to rival New York and
Boston, the populous empire will owe to the patriotic missionary zeal
of Dr. Whitman a debt which it can only pay in honor and love. Dr.
Whitman was murdered by the Indians soon after the settlement of the
Walla Walla country by the pioneers from the Eastern States.
Mr. Mann's inspiration to become a missionary pioneer on the Oregon
had been derived from a Boston schoolmaster whose name also the
Northwest should honor. An inspired soul with a prophet's vision
usually goes before the great movements of life; solitary men summon
the march of progress, then decrease while others increase. Hall J.
Kelley was a teacher of the olden time, well known in Boston almost a
century ago. He became possessed with the idea that Oregon was
destined to become a great empire. He collected all possible
information about the territory, and organized emigration schemes, the
first of which started from St. Louis in 1828, and failed. He talked of
Oregon continually. The subject haunted him day and night. It was he
who inspired Rev. Jason Lee, the pioneer of the Willamette Valley. Lee
interested Senator Linn, of Missouri, in Oregon, and this senator, on
December 11, 1838, introduced the bill into Congress which organized
the Territory.
Some of the richly endowed new schools of Oregon would honor
history by a monumental recognition of the name of Hall J. Kelley, the
old schoolmaster, whose dreams were of the Columbia, and who
inspired some of his pupils to become resolute pioneers. Boston was
always a friend to Washington and Oregon. Where the old
schoolmaster now rests we do not know. Probably in a neglected grave
amid the briers and mosses of some old cemetery on the Atlantic coast.
When Marlowe Mann came to the Northwest he found the Indian tribes
unquiet and suspicious of the new settlements. One of the pioneers had
caused a sickness among some thievish Indians by putting emetic
poison in watermelons. The Indians believed these melons to have been

conjured by the white doctor, and when other sickness came among
them, they attributed it to the same cause. The massacre at Waülaptu
and the murder of Whitman grew in part out of these events.
Mr. Mann settled near the old Chief of the Cascades. He sought the
Indian friendship of this chief, and asked him for his protection.
"People fulfill the expectation of the trust put in them--Indians as well
as children," he used to say. "A boy fulfills the ideals of his
mother--what the mother believes the boy will be, that he will become.
Treat a thief as though he were honest, and he will be honest with you.
We help people to be better by believing in what is good in them. I am
going to trust the friendship of the old Chief of the Cascades, and he
will never betray it."
It was summer, and there was to be a great Indian Potlatch feast under
the autumn moon. The Potlatch is a feast of gifts. It is usually a
peaceful gathering of friendly tribes, with rude music and gay dances;
but it bodes war and massacre and danger if it end with the dance of the
evil spirits, or the devil dance, as it has been known--a dance which the
English Government has recently forbidden among the Northwestern
tribes.
The Indians were demanding that the great fall Potlatch should end
with this ominous dance of fire and besmearings of blood. The white
people everywhere were disturbed by these reports, for they feared
what might be the secret intent of this wild revel. The settlers all
regarded with apprehension the October moon.
The tall schoolmaster watched the approach of Mrs. Woods and
Gretchen with a curious interest. The coming of a pupil with no books
and a violin was something unexpected. He stepped forward with a
courtly grace and greeted them most politely, for wherever Marlowe
Mann might be, he never forgot that he was a gentleman.
"This is my gal what I have brought to be educated," said Mrs. Woods,
proudly. "They think a great deal of education up around Boston where
I came from. Where did you come from?"

"From Boston."
"So I have been told--from Harvard College. Can I speak with you a
minute in private?"
"Yes, madam. Step aside."
"I suppose you are kinder surprised that I let my gal