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<DIV>Dr. Bailey was in Oregon when we came, I think he had been there for a number of years. He lived for a time at the Mission and had married one of the Mission girls.He was a young English Surgeon. The story was whispered about that he had deserted from an English War Vessel at San Francisco. That may not have been true, neither has it any special bearing upon the story of his trip up the coast. I often heard him tell it, and a deep scar on his chin was evidence of the truth of it.</DIV>
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<DIV> He and George Gay, another young Englishman, left their ship and started North. Somewhere on the way, they fell in with a man, whose name I have forgotten, though I remember him very well. He was one of the biggest men the I ever saw. People said that he was as strong as an ox.They expected to reach the Hudson Bay Company's Post at Oregon City. It was at best, a hazardous undertaking. Their way led for several hundred miles through a dangerous Indian country. The three of them were alone and on foot, and the country was entirely strange to them. Northern California and Southern Oregon is one high range of mountains after another, a great deal of it is wilderness even now and nearly a century has passed since the three comrades, thrown together by chance, or force of circumstances, made the trip with nothing but the stars to guide them, and only such provisions as they could carry on their backs. They traveled at night through the open places and hid during the day. They had followed the water courses through the mountains and had swam the larger streams, so going must have been difficult and slow. One night they made their camp in a deep canyon. The walls were so steep and the vegetation so dense that they could not have seen the four or five silently, creeping Indians that had followed them maybe for miles. The Indians did not have guns in those days, so they must have hid and waited till the travelers were off their guard and had laid their guns aside. Then with bloodcurdling war whoops, the savages sprang out of the bushes within a few feet of where Dr. Bailey and his friends were cooking their supper. The big man, whose name I have forgotten, was frying bacon in a long handled, iron pan. The first Indian got the big iron pan and the sizzling contents of it full in the face, swish, swish, went the big man. Tomahawks were knocked out of the Indians hands and bang, bang, went the pan over their bare heads. Finally the pan, its self, crumbled and broke off, but the long handle, with the powerful man behind it, came down with the force of a sledge hammer. I've heard Dr. Bailey say: "Give me a hundred men like , armed with long handled frying pans, and I would not be afraid to meet the whole Indian Nation."Finally George Gay succeeded in getting his gun and the fight was soon over, but when it was going fast and furriest Dr. Bailey was struck at with a tomahawk, he jumped back and the tomahawk, glancing, buried itself in his chin. He was terribly hurt, the lower lip and his chin bone was split entirely in two. He had presents of mind enough to throw himself backwards into the creek ten or twelve feet below. When his two friends had disposed of the savages, they went to look for him and found him lying in the shallow stream. They bandaged up his wound as best they could, then the big man threw him over his shoulder and they started in the darkness to get as far away from the place as they could. They waded for miles up the stream, then hid under logs when daylight came, and waited for night to come again. So for many miles they followed the North Star and traveled under cover of darkness.</DIV>
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<DIV> When they reached the Willamette Valley, they disagreed about directions and separated. Dr. Bailey found his way to the Methodist Mission. George Gay went to the Hudson Bay Post and married La Louise, the daughter of Dr. McLaughlin's Kanaka cook, and an Indian women. The man, whose name I have forgotten, came out nearer the coast mountains, but finally reached the settlement.</DIV>
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<DIV><FONT lang=0 face=Arial size=2 FAMILY="SANSSERIF" PTSIZE="10"><B>Walt Davies<BR>Cooper Hollow Farm<BR>Monmouth, OR 97361<BR>503 623-0460 <BR></B><IMG SRC="cid:X.MA1.1084822604@aol.com" title="" height=93 alt="" width=72 border=0 DATASIZE="2892" ID="MA1.1084822604"></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML>