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About Smoke signals. (Grand Ronde, Or.) 19??-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 15, 1999)
6 Smoke Signals FEBRUARY 15, 1999 7 The following story, like the Molalla, ICalapuya and Umpqua stories previously printed, is a result of information gathered from Cultural Resource Protection and interviews with Elders. If you have other stories of tribal history which can be used in these series of articles, please call the Long ago 10 sons of a very old Elder lived just south of the Rogue River. Now all but one of these, the youngest, was married and it was his duty to fetch water while his brothers hunted. As pay ment for his labor he was allowed to eat flour from the stones where his sister-in-laws ground acorns," so says an old Chasta story. One day one of his sister-in-laws verbally abused him saying such things as, "eat the whole stone while you're at it." Her husband overheard this and scolded her but it was too late. Something strange began to happen. The boy, who was just growing strong enough to use a bow, began eating the stones. His feet and hands grew large and his body became very strong. He said to the woman, who was now very frightened, "tomorrow you will be afraid even to speak to me." "It is your fault," his brother told his wife. "You have treated him badly. You deserve everything you get." By the next day the boy grew into a grizzly bear and tore down the house. He told the people how his transformation came about. Then he warned, "If you see my feet or my tracks don't be fright ened! But if you speak badly to me, I shall kill you." He then went away to the east for five years. When he returned he said, "I will do you no harm. You are my friends." This story is offered as the reason why coast dwellers are no longer bothered by grizzlies. But perhaps somewhere within its meaning is a com mentary on the history and fate of the small Chasta bands that once roamed southern Oregon. THE BOY BEFORE THE BEAR Bands of Chastas (or Shastas) occupying what is now southwestern Oregon were members of the greater Shasta nation. Their language was related to those spoken by tribes in California and Mexico, and as far south as Central America. They were interspersed mainly throughout California's middle Klamath, Scott and Shasta rivers with a few bands living north of the Siskiyou Mountains in Oregon. Chastas north of the Siskiyous were a few of about 9,500 members of various tribes and bands once populating the Rouge Valley. They lived primarily southeast of present day Ashland to Table Rock near Jacksonville. Like many western Oregon tribes, they mi grated seasonally following available food sources but had well-known established winter villages along the southern reaches of Bear Creek. Perhaps their closest neighbors were the Rouge River Takelma who also lived on Bear Creek just north of Talent. Little is known about the traditional life of the Oregon Chastas. They subsisted on the seasonal fish runs at Bear Creek and other nearby waters as well as deer and small game that lived in the area. Smoke Signals oilicz. Chief John of the Rogue River Chastas warrior and leader that fought against settler incursions and retired to the Grand Ronde res ervation. They used bows for hunting and warfare. According to one account, they may have some times poisoned the tips with the livers of rattlesnake bitten deer or antelope. Camas, berries and pro cessed acorns were among the main plant foods of Bear Creek inhabitants. . Acorns were ground and blanched with boiling water to remove the bitterness. They were either eaten right away as porridge or allowed to dry and traded or later consumed. Rogue Valley Chastas used the split incense cedar to build houses. Like their northern California cous ins, they most likely had a rich tradition of basket making. Basket hats were common attire for women while facial tattooing was also a common cultural trait of both the Chastas and Takelmas. One early non-Indian visitor to the region notes that Takelma women often wore Chasta made basket hats. It is probable that buckskin shirts, pants, skirts, moccasins and deer hide hats common to upstream Takelmas were also used by the Chastas. Strings of dentalium shells, a form of Native currency used by tribes throughout the North west, were no stranger to Oregon Chastas either. They used dentalium and other items of value to trade with the Takelma and other tribes living in, or passing through, the area. Chasta bands traded slaves and intermarried with nearby Rogue River bands, the Klamath and Modoc bands just east of the Cascades as well as California Shastas. But it was also common for the various bands to be at odds with one another, raid and enslave members of neighboring tribes. By the mid 1800s the mutual threat of encroach ing settlers, miners and federal troops would en couraged the Chastas and other southwest Or egon tribes to set aside their differences on occa sion. But Chastas along with other Rouge River bands, were still feuding sporadically with their Klamath counterparts well into the 1860s. Chasta and Rouge motives were usually in de fense or retaliation against Klamath raids that often carried women off to be sold as slaves to tribes as far north as the Cayuse and Nez Perce. But one intertribal battle between Chasta and Klamath bands, as witnessed by James Cardwell and his fellow prospectors in 1851, shows that such "war" rarely reached the level that later be came common be tween Indians and whites. According to Cardwell's account, the battle took place near Ashland and the emphasis of the war was more on showing strength as a warrior and military prowess than bloodshed. Braves from both bands took up arms against each other after a Klamath Indian was killed by a member of the Bear Creek Chasta band. The Chastas had refused to pay for the lost life with several horses as demanded by the Klamaths. More than 100 Klamath warriors descended on a site near Ashland to settle the score with the Chasta Chief, Tipsey and his people. Preparing for battle, each army built large fires on their respective sides of the chosen battlefield. In a fierce show of bravado, 10 to 15 warriors charged the Chasta stronghold with ferocious leaps and ear-piercing battle cries. Stopping about 50 yards from their foes, they continued the taunts until Chasta warriors counter-rushed after showering their foes with arrows. The battle ensued for three days. When the score was considered settled the armies went their separate ways. Several braves were wounded but there were no fatalities, according to Cardwell. But, the cost of warfare with their new enemies would be higher than ever before. THE INSULT The Chasta's first contact with whites occurred in 1827 when trappers from the Hudson Bay Company entered the valley in search of beaver pelts. Soon they would be followed by countless more. In 1850 The Donation Land Act dolled out tracts of land to qualified settlers. Often the U. S. gov ernment failed to clear Indian titles before giving them away helping to set the stage for one of the regions most bloodiest wars. By the following year there was a growing settler interest in southwestern Oregon. The San Francisco newspaper, Alta California, and The Oregon Statesman reported regularly on the events and opportunities in the region. Government surveys began charting the har bor from Port Orford and the timber value of the Port Orford Cedar was discovered. Miners found traces of gold on the Applegate and Rouge rivers and in January 1852 gold was discovered near Table Rock. Tension mounted and by 1853 the Rogue River Wars were in full swing. Native lands and resources were evaporating and with it, Indian freedom. Members of proud nations were becoming 'out laws' for living a traditional way of life in their own homes. While some tribes and bands chose the path of least resistance, others could not set aside their appetite for justice. Even if war showed little chance for decisive victory, a warriors' understanding of 'a good day to die' would make some battles worth fighting. RAVAGES OF THE ROGUE WARS The sweltering summer of 1853 brought fever ish anti-Indian cries of retaliation against fatal Indian raids on settlers, packers and miners in the area. On August 6 Jacksonville miners hanged two Shasta men avenging a miner who narrowly es caped attack by unidentified Indians in the nearby mountains. By late afternoon some Butte Creek settlers had arrived in town with a seven-year-old Indian boy after fleeing their homes for fear of violence. Jacksonville miners, still drunk from the blood of vengeance, formed an angry mob when they saw the boy. "Hang him, hang him," wrote packer and later lawyer, Benjamin Dowell, recalling the scene he witnessed. "Exterminate the whole Indian race. When he is old he will kill you," the mob reasoned. Dowell's attempts to dissuade the mob of about 800 men failed when a party of "volunteers" one of several militias bent on exterminating In dians in the name of self-defense rode into town proclaiming "we have been killing Indians all day." - The renewed spirit of hatred brought by the militia incited the mob. Moments latter, next to the two Shasta men, the murdered 7-year-old swung from a rope. Although such hatred was probably not com mon among all southwest Oregon whites, it was common enough to prompt even Indian commis sioner of Northern California, Redick McKee, to comment on such behavior. "Now that I have been through the whole In dian country, I am convinced on the opinion that in almost every instance of difficulty the whites have been the aggressors," wrote McKee. "Some cases have come to my knowledge of willful, bru tal and outrages disregard of all the claims of humanity and civilized life. Until some examples are made in punishment of such demons in hu man shape, perfect tranquility can hardly be ex pected." But such examples were rarely, if ever made. Therefore tranquility was a long way off. Instead federal officials turned to familiar tac tics that in the past had ensured peace and ac quired land at the stroke of a pen. On September 10, 1853 the Oregon band of Chastas joined their Rogue River neighbors in signing a treaty with Superintendent of Indian Affairs, Joel Palmer, at Table Rock. This was the second treaty these tribes had signed with the federal government. The first, which implied the bands would retain some of their aboriginal homelands as a reservation, was never ratified by Congress. Nonetheless, a tenuous peace was restored af ter 1853 and many Chastas moved to a newly hedged temporary reserve at Table Rock. But the treaty was also an open invitation for more settlers to pour into the Rogue Valley. Fences were erected over open fields, hogs up rooted camas and farmers plowed up grass - the seeds of which were a major food source for some local tribes. A SPIRIT OF RESISTANCE This curious sense of justice propagated and policed by white treaty signers began to take it's toll on Indian patience and tolerance. For some, such as Chasta Chief, John, patience and tolerance were becoming as scarce as the free dom he and his people once enjoyed. In October 1855 miner "volunteers" rallied forces to punish a nearby Chasta village for al leged cattle theft. Lead by Major James A. Lupton, they crept up and surrounded two camps of Indi ans near Little Butte Creek at dawn. Fifteen villagers, women, children and eight men (mostly Elders) were killed. Four of the El der men escaped into the brush but were coaxed out by the pleas of their captured women. Although the settlers promised a fair surren der, the Elders were shot in cold blood after lay ing down their weapons. On the South side of the Rogue, Chief Sambo's band was also attacked killing one women and wounding another along with two boys. A dying warrior used his last breath to push his bow forward with his feet and send a fatal arrow into Lupton's left lung. The next day word of Lupton's massacre reached Chief John at the Table Rock reservation. - The Chief could stand no more. Anxious to retaliate, he immediately killed Wil liam Guin, an innocent white who was building the chief's house according to the treaty agree ment signed two years earlier. "I want no house," the Chief proclaimed. " I am going to fight until I die." That day Chief John's warriors took 20 settlers' lives men women and children from Jewlett's Ferry on the mouth of Evan's Creek to Crescent City California. Soon it was reported that the enraged chief had rallied Chastas, Grave Creeks, several Umpquas and Cow Creeks to band together and fight white incursions. "The (C)hastas are beyond doubt the leading spirit of the whole expedition," later wrote a U.S. Indian Agent to Palmer. "Old Chief John has man aged to secure the assistance of all the above named tribes, together with the Klamaths, and all the surrounding tribes are concerned in this war." Perhaps in accordance with an 1854 Klamath council, Chief John was part of concerted efforts by southern Oregon and northern California tribes to repel the non-Indian invasion and re claim ancestral lands. Independent bands, acting in concert, swept through the area taking settler lives as indiscrimi nately as a grizzly bear fighting for food. The days of show-of-strength battles which left only a few warriors wounded were now over for the Chasta. During this period, like their enemy, they did not hesitate to take the lives of the women and children as well as men. Later that winter federal troops had Chief John's band on the run. A December surprise at tack killed three of the Chasta warriors sending others into hiding near the forks of the Applegate River. By January they had taken refuge in nearby mountains. Scarcely better off than their warring counter parts, those Chasta and other tribes who chose to remain on the Table Rock reservation in peace were driven through the snow to the new reser vations in Siletz and Grand Ronde. That May most of the remaining Rogue Valley surrendered their arms and sued for peace. Most, that is, except for Chief John. Although willing to admit the futility of the war, he was not willing to submit to relocation. "You are a great chief; so am I. This is my coun try. I was in it when these large trees were very small, not higher than my head. My heart is sick with fighting, but I want to live in my country," proclaimed the battle-weary Chief to U.S. nego tiators. "If the white people are willing I will go back to Deer Creek and live among them as I used to do; they can visit my camp and I will visit theirs; but I will not lay down my arms and go with you on the reserve. I will fight. Goodbye." A few days later, as peace talks dragged on near the Illinois River, the Chief reportedly instigated an uprising. After a three-day skirmish, Rogue chiefs Limpy, George and others surrendered. Chief John escaped. It would take U.S. troops a month to find and capture him before he and about 200 other Indi ans could be marched 125 miles on foot to Siletz. But in 1858, just two years later, the unrelent ing Chief and his son Adam were arrested and imprisoned at a federal guard house in San Fran cisco for four years for allegedly plotting another uprising. In 1862 they were released and took up perma nent residence at Grand Ronde where, like the grizzly of the Chasta story, they lived a peaceful life. THE SPIRIT CONTINUES With the close of western Oregon's darkest chap ter in history the seeds of a brighter future were sown. Today a remnant of the once pristine aborigi nal home of the Oregon Chastas can still be seen in the Bear Creek Greenway, a strip of public park following the creek from Ashland to Central Point. According to a U.S. census, by 1871, 51 Chastas were part of a changing community that would meld into a new Grand Ronde Tribe by the next century. The spirit of bold resistance exhibited by Chasta warriors such as Chief John and others as well as those who accepted their new fate without oppo sition, have become part of the greater spirit of the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde. A spirit that undoubtedly contributed to the Tribe's tenacious struggle for restoration. A spirit that continues to fight unwaveringly for survival in non-Indian America. An America that can still be hostile to those whose ill-fated land, resources and history are the foundation of its national prosperity. A spirit as ferocious as that of a grizzly bear who now proclaims, "I will do you no harm. You are my friends."
