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<DIV><FONT face=Arial>The following was written by my grandfather, Cecil Clark
Rulaford, and sent to my mother 50 years ago.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial>We cannot unring the bell, and what the white man did to
the people they found in North America is inexcusable. Now they are
getting their revenge through their casinos.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial>
<BLOCKQUOTE> <BR><FONT size=+2> More than a
hundred years ago, a white man, who was a trapper in the Western wilderness
happened to spend the night with a wandering band of friendly Indians.
As night drew on and they sat around the campfire, the Indians noticed the
white man take a small book from his pocket and after looking at the pages,
slowly turn them. Presently he closed the book, shut his eyes, and moved
his lips in some magical incantation (they supposed). When he had
finished, they asked him what he had been doing and he told them that he had
been reading from the White Man's Book, which pointed the way to a better
land, and he had been praying to the White Man's God. The Indians showed
that they were interested and soon this news spread throughout their
tribe. Some time later, four Nez Perce chiefs started out to find the
White Man's Book of Heaven, and in September, 1831, they appeared in St.
Louis. Two years had been spent by them on their strange quest, years of
suffering, danger and doubt. They were unable to find words with which
to make known their wants. They wandered tongue tied through the
streets. Finally coming under the notice of Governor Clark, they were
sent to a Catholic Priest and from him the story reached the country.</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> It produced a profound interest
among the churches, seeming to them a veritable Macedonian cry. The
result being, that missionaries were sent to the great Northwest. So, in
the early spring of 1836, in company with his newly made bride, Narcissa
(Prentice) Whitman, and Rev. H. H. Spalding and wife, Dr. Whitman started
across the plains. They traveled part way with the fur company's annual
detachment until they met a body of Nez Perce Indians who had come to meet
them, into whose hands they committed their fortunes and lives the rest of the
way.</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> They reached Fort Walla Walla on
September 1, 1836. Whitman</FONT> <FONT size=+2>established his mission
six miles west of Walla Walla where he brought over two hundred acres under
cultivation, built a grist mill and also a sawmill. Mrs. Whitman's was
the first school for teaching the Indians. Dr. Whitman heard rumors that
the United States was about to make a treaty with England whereby England
would get the Oregon country. The more Whitman thought of it, the more
he became convinced that it was his patriotic duty to go to Washington and
inform the authorities of the nature and value of this great country.
So, in the winter of 1842-43, Whitman crossed the continent on horse
back. He had an Indian guide part of the way, but the going got so bad
that the Indian turned back and Whitman went on alone. He was received
by President Tyler and Secretary Webster, who took an entirely new stand and
began to raise the demand of "Fifty-four forty" or fight.</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> As a result of his published
broadcast, Whitman succeeded in conducting a thousand people with wagons and
cattle to the promised land of Oregon. The immigration of 1843 was the
deciding contest in the struggle for the possession between England and the
United States. The American home vanquished the English fur
trader. My Grandfather, Nineveh Ford, was with this caravan. The
people scattered to different parts of the West. Grandfather went on
down the Columbia until he reached The Dalles. Here he took two wagon
boxes, lashed them to a raft and floated down the Columbia to Fort
Vancouver. From there, he went overland to Oregon City, driving the
first ox team to enter the town. Here he went into the tannery business,
then started a shoe factory. In 1847 the Indians of the Eastern part of
Oregon country went on the war path. Grandfather Ford volunteered and
went with a company of soldiers. When they reached the Whitman Mission,
they found that the Indians had killed fourteen people and burned the
mission. Mrs. Whitman was the only woman killed. Forty-seven women
and children were taken prisoners, and were later ransomed from the Indians
for several hundred dollars. After the return of Dr. Whitman from the
East in 1843, the Indians became restive and ugly. They could only see
that the coming of the Americans was a sign that their wild hunting grounds
would soon be no more. During the summer of '47, measles broke out among
the Cayuse Indians and became epidemic. The native method of treating
anything of a feverous nature was to enter into a sweat house, stripped of
clothing, and remain there until thoroughly steamed. Then plunge, naked
and perspiring, into a cold stream. Death was the most inevitable
result.</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> At this time, a renegade half-breed
by the name of Joe Lewis, who</FONT> <FONT size=+2>had been befriended by Dr.
Whitman, exercised his vile nature. He made the Indians believe that
Whitman was poisoning them. To prove the point they took an old sick
woman that was nearly dead; they gave her some of Dr. Whitman's
medicine. The woman died. Then the Indians laid their plans to
kill the missionaries. Whitman was warned by a friendly Indian by the
name of Istickus of the Umatilla tribe. But the Dr. laughed it
off. Mrs. Whitman, with her womanly intuition, felt the darkening of the
approaching tragedy. The Dr. promised her that he would make
arrangements to move down to The Dalles at once. But the next day, the
fatal 29th of November, 1847, dawned. Dr. Whitman was sitting reading
about 1 o'clock on the 29th when a number of Indians entered and requested
medicine from the Dr.. While he was preparing it an Indian by the name
of Tomahas drew forth his hatched and buried it in the back of the head of his
benefactor. None of the white men scattered and unsuspecting, could
offer effective resistance. All were shot down except some who were in
remote places and could hide and glide away when night came. Five men
escaped in this manner after suffering many hardships.</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> Here is an account of his escape,
given by Mr. Osborn to Mr. Spalding years after. Mr. Osborn says, "I and
my whole family were sick in bed with measles. When I heard the firing
of the guns and the yells of the Indians, I leaned my head upon the bed and
committed myself and family to my maker. My wife removed some loose
board from the floor. Then we all dropped under the floor in our night
clothes, taking only two woolen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold
mush. Then pulled the loose floor over us. In five minutes, the
room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The firing of
guns and yells of the savages and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans
of the dying continued until dark. Soon after this we removed the floor
boards and went out, I carried my two youngest children and my wife held onto
my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with
measles. The naked painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a
large fire at a little distance. A dense cold fog shut out every star,
and it was so dark we could not see our hand before our face. We had to
feel out the trail with our feet. We bent our steps toward Fort Walla
Walla. We had to wade Mill Creek which was high and came up to the
waist. My wife was almost washed away. I had to cross the stream
five times for the children. The water was ice cold. We had gone
about two miles when Mrs. Osborn fainted and could go no further. We
crowded into the wet brush of the Walla Walla River. We could see
nothing. I spread one wet sheet on the frozen ground; wife and children
crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I kneeled down
and commended us to our Maker. When the day finally dawned we could see
the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. The day seemed a
week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last.
Tuesday night felt our way to the trail and</FONT> <BR><FONT size=+2>staggered
along to Dog Creek (Sutucksinna), which we waded as we did Mill Creek.
We had gone about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no
further. Again we crawled into the brush to shake and suffer on from
hunger and cold and without sleep, The children, wet and cold, called
incessantly for food. But what they had heard and seen frightened them
so that they did not speak loud. Wednesday night my wife was too weak to
stand. I took my second child and started for Walla Walla. Had to
wade the Touched. Had to stop and rest quite frequently from
weakness. I reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight. I begged Mr.
McBean for horses and dry clothing so I could bring my family into the
fort. He refused and said I could not bring my family into his
fort. I next begged the priests to show pity, as undoubtedly I and my
family would parish, but they refused to aid me in any way."</FONT>
<P><FONT size=+2> He finally did get help and rescued
his family -- his wife never fully
recovered.</FONT></P></BLOCKQUOTE></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial>Cecil</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial>Cecil Houk, ET1 USN Ret.<BR>PO Box 530833<BR>San Diego CA
92153<BR>FAX 619-428-6434<BR><A
href="mailto:cchouk@cox.net">mailto:cchouk@cox.net</A><BR>ANDERSON - BLAKELY -
FORD - HOUK - KIMSEY - MOE - RULAFORD - SIMPSON<BR>Searchable GEDCOM: <A
href="http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/~cchouk">http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/~cchouk</A><BR>My
web page MENU: <A
href="http://members.cox.net/~cchouk/">http://members.cox.net/~cchouk/</A><BR></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML>