Editor’s note: Last week, we began the journey of two white adventurers who sought to climb Mount Rainier. Gen. Hazard Stevens and Philemon Beecher Van Trump have enlisted the help of Sluiskin, a Yakama Indian who led them to the base of the mountain.
In their ignorance of the locality, the climbers agreed to Chief Sluiskin’s route and he led off, his pack supported by a tumpline across his forehead and his long-barreled Hudson’s Bay trade gun held crosswise on his head. All afternoon they toiled upward in single file Coleman lagging in the rear, often calling for the others to wait for him. He could not keep up, even though his pack of 30 to 40 pounds was no heavier than the others, and by the time Sluiskin and his hardier patrons passed onto the top of the long ridge, which extends westward from Lookout Mountain, Coleman was out of sight and sound. Coleman was an Englishman who had been holding them up every day on the expedition.
As Coleman approached the top, he worked himself into a cul de sac among the little cliffs in which the ridge terminates. Soon he was stuck, finding it necessary to jettison his pack, which rolled and bounded down the rocks to disappear among the rocks below. Unencumbered, he was able to climb down, but he could not find the pack, and without equipment, could only return to the camp on Bear Prairie.
On the ridge top, Stevens, Van Trump and Sluiskin had thrown off their packs for a rest while they waited for Coleman to come up. When he failed to appear, and their hailing went unanswered, Sluiskin was sent down to assist the missing man. He returned an hour later, to report that he had sighted Coleman near the foot of the mountain, trudging toward camp without his pack.
Sluiskin was disgusted. Stevens and Van Trump were more concerned about the loss of their entire supply of bacon, which had been in Coleman’s pack. But the loss was softened by their relief of being rid of so vexing an impediment as the Englishman, who would be safe at camp, while Sluiskin’s gun would supply them with meat; the decision to push on was easily made!
Sluiskin led them two miles along the south side of the ridge to a sheltered hollow where he had often encamped. However, the spring had dried up, so that Stevens had to go back a mile with a canteen and coffee pot to get water. It was a bleak, mosquito-plagued, and chilly encampment which they left at dawn breakfast less and thirsty.
From Lookout Mountain, they traveled northward along the divide between the drainages of Horse and Johnson creeks, coming after two hours, to a snow covered lakelet where they breakfasted on bread and coffee while shivering with the early morning chill. Soon on the move again, Sluiskin led them up a difficult climb onto the peak that now claims the name of Wahpenayo, a father-in-law of Indian Henry, to a spectacular view of Mount Rainier — a view so inspiring that Stevens said, “We were already repaid for our toil.” A few more hours brought them to the saddle between Plummer and Pinnacle peaks, where they gladly descended the step, snow-filled gulch to the little stream they called “Clear creek,” now known as Tatoosh Creek — the outlet of Reflection Lake. There they halted for an hour. Sluiskin was reluctant to go on, for he seemed worn out, but Stevens and Van Trump insisted on pushing up Mazama Ridge. As they proceeded, the forest opened, allowing them to see Reflection Lake and note that it lay upon the divide between the Nisqually and Cowlitz Rivers. Night overtook them among the scattered groves, where they found a camp in a clump of alpine firs.
For the evening meal, the ration of dry bread and coffee was supplemented with a grouse shot by Sluiskin along the way. Sluiskin’s attitude toward his companions had greatly changed during the day’s climb. The derisive jesting so prominent after Coleman’s defection, softened to a genuine concern for them, and that evening, as they sat by the campfire, he attempted to dissuade them from trying to climb to the summit.
•••
Next week: A dire warning of doom.
•••
Roy I. Rochon Wilson was an elected leader of the Cowlitz Tribe for three decades and is the author of more than 30 books, including several histories of the Cowlitz Tribe. He is a retired ordained Methodist minister and current spiritual leader of the tribe. Wilson lives near Winlock.
