as a discouraging outlook, even if there had been roads. Such
timber! It seemed an appalling undertaking to clear this land, the
greater part of it being covered with a heavy growth of balm and alder
trees and a thick tangle of underbrush besides. When we fell asleep that
night, it was without visions of new-found wealth. And yet later I did
tackle a quarter-section of that heaviest timber land, and never let up
until the last tree, log, stump, and root had disappeared, though of
course, not all cleared off by my own hands.

If we could have known what was coming four months later, we would have
remained, in spite of our discouragement, and searched the valley
diligently for the choicest locations. For in October following there
came the first immigrants over the Natchess Pass Trail into Washington.
They located in a body over nearly the whole valley, and before the year
was ended had made a rough wagon road out to the prairies and to
Steilacoom, the county seat.

We lingered at the mouth of the river in doubt as to what best to do. My
thoughts went back to wife and baby in the lonely cabin on the Columbia
River, and again to that bargain we had made before marriage, that we
were going to be farmers. How could we be farmers if we did not have
land? Under the donation act we could hold three hundred and twenty
acres, but we must live on it for four years; it behooved us to look out
and secure our location before the act expired, which would occur the
following year.

With misgivings and doubts, on the fourth day Oliver and I loaded our
outfit into our skiff and floated out on the receding tide, whither, we
did not know.

As we drew off from the mouth of the Puyallup River, numerous parties of
Indians were in sight. Some were trolling for salmon, with a lone Indian
in the bow of each canoe; others with poles were fishing for smelt;
still others with nets seemed waiting for fisherman's luck.

Other parties were passing, those in each canoe singing a plaintive
chant in minor key, accompanied by heavy strokes of the paddle handles
against the sides of the canoe, as if to keep time. There were some fine
voices to be heard, and though there were but slight variations in the
sounds or words, the Indians seemed never to tire in repeating, and I
must confess we never tired of listening.

During the afternoon, after we had traveled some twenty miles, we saw
ahead of us larger waters, into which we entered, finding ourselves