Back to the Blues and Beyond

In June of 1813, a group of men, led by Reed, departed Fort Astoria to head back over the Blue Mountains to the area of present-day Parma, ID and Caldwell, ID. Both Marie and Pierre were hired – he as a hunter/trapper, she as factotum of the 'fort' they would build. It was Marie's job to feed the men who were there, dress the hides they brought in, and keep them in moccasins, as well as to raise the two boys. This time, she did not have to walk a mile or two to live separately from the men. She and the boys stayed in the cabin while the men went off to build other cabins and trap.

White Pine dugouts. Similar to the ones made of Cottonwood and
used by the Hunt party. These are at Sacajawea State Park in Pasco, WA.

For the most part, the Snake were friendly, though they weren't all happy to have these intruders in their land. By mid-January 1814, the cabin was filling with hides and preserved meat. On 14 January 1814, it was bitter cold, and snowing when a friendly Snake came to the door to warn Marie that some "Dog Snakes" were going to the other cabin where Pierre and some men were, to kill the men and burn the cabin.

Stone at entrance to Madame Dorion Memorial Park*

Marie quickly bundled the boys and headed out to warn them. Unfortunately, she arrived too late, and all were dead, or dying. She managed to run off the horses belonging to the Snake, saving two for her boys and herself, and one wounded man, who died the next day. When she and the boys returned to the man cabin, all the men were dead and scalped. Marie and her boys were alone. She managed to get a small amount of food, and one knife from the cabin, and headed back across the river and up into the Blue Mountains.

She had no idea who she could trust, so she trusted no one. If they saw anyone, they hid. With no men to protect her, it would have been too easy to kill the boys and take her as a slave. When they came this way two years prior, the snow was deep, but apparently not as deep. Also, there were many and a few horses to help beat the trail down.

Walla Walla River near Wallula, WA. Note how barren the hills once
away from the water.

No one knows where she camped for the winter. Many believe they camped near present-day Hilgard, OR, at a place well-known to the local tribes. I believe she would have gone as far west as she could, hoping to get out of the snow as she did on the previous trip. I also don't think she would have camped near a popular place due to fear of being found. I think she would have tried to go possibly as far as present-day Meacham, OR area, hoping to get out of the snow. At any rate, she and the boys build a small wikiup and spent between 50 and 55 days alone. As their two horses died, they were eaten. Although I doubt food was plentiful, I doubt they starved—they would have set snares and traps for whatever rabbits, etc., they could find and eat.

The bridge built in 1931 for old Highway 12 and named in honor of Marie.

When Spring came, they made their way down the north side of the Blues, and across the plains and hills, by which time they were starving, and eventually into the Walla Walla village of Wallula. Fortunately for her, they were friendly, and helped. A few days later, some of the Astorians came through, on their way back to Saint Louis, and when she told the story, they figured out the 50-55 days Marie and the boys were alone. They offered to take them back to Saint Louis, but Marie decided she liked the Northwest, and declined their offer.

The same bridge, now decommissioned and used by anglers.

She and the boys went up the Columbia to Fort Okanagan, where she married Louis Joseph Venier and had a daughter, Marguerite. When Venier died, or went back home, she and her family returned to Wallula, and Fort Nez Perces where they stayed for a few years. She married again, Jean Toupin, and added more children to her family. She worked for the Fort, as a guide, interpreter, and when the Whitmans came through, she was the factotum of the fort.

In 1841, Toupin took a land grant in French Prairie, Willamette Valley, Oregon Country, and they moved. Marie was known to help all who needed it, she made moccasins for children and adults, and truly was beloved by all who knew her. When she died in 1850 at the age of 64, she was given the great honor of being buried inside, under the steeple, of St. Louis Catholic Church (near present-day Gervais, OR).

Sagebrush  near the bridge

 Truly, Marie was the first pioneer woman to come overland and settle in the Oregon Country. She also gave birth to the first white children (though she was Ioway, her husbands were considered "white" and their children were also considered "white") in the Oregon Country – the baby born in the Blue Mountains in 1811, and Marguerite, born at Fort Okanagan.

*To read the memorial stone shown above, click here.  Please note, there are a few errors.

1. Marie's husband, Pierre Dorion, Jr. did not travel with Lewis & Clark. That was Pierre Dorion, Sr., and he did not make the entire trip, he only guided them through the Sioux territory.

2. The original location of the fort is now under Lake Wallula, made when the McNary Dam flooded this portion of the Columbia river.

3. The Reed party did not head out in Winter but in June.

4. I found no reference that she ever lived in Walla Walla, WA and if anyone has information that she did, I would like to hear from you.

Life Saving Acts of a Generous People

The Cayuse people were, as noted in several journals, a tall, clean, and proud people. They were also rich, and generous when they wished to be. And at all times, they were shrewd businessmen. They owned vast herds of horses, and traded or sold many horses, but never the best. The best, they kept.

They considered both horse and dog as sacred. The coyote was sacred, and they thought the dog descended from coyote, so it was also sacred. It was anathema to kill and or eat either dog or horse in their villages. When Marie and the men began to drag themselves out of the mountains and into the village, they were fed, and placed in warm tipis. They were so hungry, they didn't care what they ate, but soon, they wanted either horse or dog, as the salmon was too rich.

It is well documented that on the 12th January 1812, the Cayuse moved their village about 15 miles down the Umatilla River, leaving the Astorians where they were encamped to recuperate. No reason was given for the move, but I wonder if it was so the Astorians could now kill and eat the dogs and horses they purchased, and not break the taboos of the village. As it was no longer a village, the taboos would not be in effect. And to think that we called them savages!

Though still weak, the men recovered enough that they were able to again be on the move. On the 23d of January, they had made it to the Walla Walla village of Wallula, at the confluence of the Walla Walla River and the Columbia River where they crossed the Columbia to the north bank. No mention, that I found, of why they went down the north bank, unless it was the Indian Road, with the south bank being to difficult for whatever reason (perhaps it was harder to get down the cliffs to water? I don't know).

They met several tribes as they walked and rode downriver. All were poor in comparison to the Cayuse, and some were extremely generous, even though they had little to share. Others had turned thievery into high art, and took great pride in stealing what they could, and if caught, shrugged it off.

It was still winter, yet the journals I read commented on how mild the air felt, how warm the sun, how wonderful to be out of the bitter cold and the snow. (I live in this part of the country, and believe me, January can be bitter cold, even if there isn't snow, so I'm guessing this was possibly one of those exceptionally warm years. Ice storms are not uncommon along the river in the winter, and yet not once was one mentioned.)

As they progressed west, eventually Mt. Hood, Oregon, made her appearance. It must have looked much as this photo taken before the dams turned the river into a series of lakes.

I often wonder what they thought when they came to the Celilo Falls, or the Great Falls of the Columbia, a major fishing area for all the tribes. I remember the falls, before The Dalles Dam flooded them. I still cry when I think about it, but that's not Marie's story, that's mine. Through the Freedom of Information Act, reports (and I assume others) have now seen the documents that confirm some of the dams were built where they were precisely to force the Indians out of their traditional and treaty-granted fishing rights. The Indians did not move. They are still here. This photo shows lone fisherman during the final fishing season at Celilo Falls.

The Astorians went slowly, though Hunt was in a hurry to get to Fort Astor, allowing the weaker to travel with them. By the time they reached the village of Wishram, the last of their horses were either sold or stolen, and everyone, and what supplies they still had, were loaded in canoes. On the 10th of February, the winds through the Columbia Gorge let up enough that the party at last was underway on the final leg of their journey, in canoes.

Next week:  The Pacific Ocean.

From Cauldron Linn to Hell's Canyon

Had a marvelous trip to Ontario, Oregon where I gave a well-received talk about Madame Dorion at the Four Rivers Cultural Center. The audience was appreciative, asked good questions, and bought books. If you are looking for road trips this summer, consider the Pacific Northwest, and make this one of your destinations—both the town and the cultural center. They have an excellent museum, and the shocker for me, was all the items Japanese. Seems many Japanese were shipped to Ontario region during the war to help the farmers harvest their crops, and when the war ended, they stayed. There is also a large Basque contingent, Hispanic, and of course Indian artifacts.

The following day I headed home, with a scheduled stop at the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center and Gift Shop just outside Baker City, Oregon. Another destination for your summer drives. The Center is on top of a fairly high hill, with a breathtaking view from all sides. There are walking paths to the old Oregon Trail, a wonderful museum and theater, and the gift shop is going to put a dent in your wallet;-) Again, a great audience with some great questions.

Kudos to Matt Stringer (Four Rivers) and Phoebe Charbonneau (Oregon Trail) for inviting me and doing such a marvelous job of setting everything up.

"The author took great pains in her research, traveled the trail, and dug deep into her own Native American roots to bring the reader a plausible reality. It is wonderful that experts provided Ms. Good with credible information so her imagination could create this experience for the reader (although according to one comment it appears she was stonewalled by some). The length and tone of the journal entries change with the circumstances along the trail, adding something extra for the reader's enjoyment and comprehension of this woman's bravery and fierce loyalty to her family's survival. It is a great springboard for readers interested in seriously researching a part of US history not in the mainstream. I recommend this book, especially for those of you looking for a quick summertime read to take beach." –DT

By the 23d of December 1811, they had walked, starving, thirsty, and cold from east of present-day Murtagh, Idaho, and into what we now call Hell's Canyon. Marie had a skinny horse she rode that Pierre defended any time Hunt wanted it to ride himself, or to feed the men. (Pierre said they would eat it as a last resort, fortunately, they found other food).

No one knows for sure how far up Hell's Canyon they went, the walls were steep, and close, Marie had to walk most of the way, carrying her pack, Paul, and the baby was due any time. They were able to shoot a deer at one point. When Hunt finally turned the group back, they found friendly Shoshone at what is now known as Farewell Bend, and were told they would have to go over the mountains, and to do so in winter was to invite death as there was too much snow and too much cold.

Somehow, Hunt and or Pierre managed to hire three guides to take them over the Blue Mountains. They were not enthusiastic about it, but the price must have been to their liking.

 

Looking up the Snake River at Farewell Bend

Looking down the Snake toward the mouth of Hell's Canyon

Sign at the park

"23 December 1811. All are across, many extremely weak and exhausted.

It took one day to get all the men and the five puny horses across the river. Two men and their supplies would come across, and one man would go back.... Mr. Crooks's men are very weak, especially four of them, which is why we waited an extra day.

            "We are finally all together on the same shore and ready to finish this journey. I no longer think my daughter will be born at Fort Astoria, I now only hope she is born on the Columbia River and not in these mountains. Though, mostly, I just want her born and healthy. As much as I don't like her kicking, I worry when she doesn't.

            "These mountains are barren, like the plains we just crossed. Trees are few and far apart, unless there is a creek or river. It is snowing."

Road side Historical Marker. By the way, there was no mention of her using a travois in any of the journals I read.

Today, driving on the Interstate, it takes about an hour to go what took them easily a week or more. It took me a tad over an hour to drive from Ontario to Baker City, 66 miles. It took them a week to get from Farewell Bend to wherever the baby was born (possibly near North Powder River?) About the same distance I believe.