that has been made by listening to the enemies of American interests in Oregon. Six years ago I was told that there was no wagon road to Oregon, and that it was impossible to take a wagon there, and yet in despite of pleadings and almost threats, I took a wagon over the road, and have it now." This plain statement had an effect which any amount of argument and oratory could not have produced.

It was a new experience to these experienced politicians to meet a man who could plead so eloquently for the cause of his country, and still have no selfish interests of his own to serve, and when he asked that they would not barter away Oregon until they had given him an opportunity to lead a band of stalwart American settlers across the plains, they could not well refuse. After receiving this promise he hurried to Boston to report to the missionary board, who in turn severely censured him for leaving his station.

Meanwhile General Lovejoy had published far and wide that Dr. Whitman and himself would lead a party of emigrants across the country to Oregon early in the spring, and a rendezvous was appointed not far from the spot where Kansas City now stands. The grass that year was late and the band of emigrants did not start until the first week in June. The journey was long and dangerous, but was safely accomplished, and when in September one thousand immigrants with their wagons and stock entered the long disputed territory, the hearts of Dr. Whitman and all other patriotic Americans with him thrilled with joy as they realized that at last Oregon was saved to the Union.

That Dr. Whitman was the means of saving Oregon to the United States there can be no doubt. A Senate document, the forty-first Congress February 9, 1871, reads: "There is no doubt but that the arrival of Dr. Whitman, in 1843, was opportune. The delay incident to a transfer of negotiations to London was fortunate, for there is reason to believe that if former negotiations had been renewed in Washington, and that if for the sake of a settlement of the protracted controversy and the only remaining unadjudicated cause of difference between the two governments, the offer had been renewed of the 49th parallel to the Columbia and thence down the river to the Pacific Ocean, it would have been accepted. The visit of Whitman committed the President against any such action." Before Dr. Whitman left Washington a message was on its way to Mr. Everett, our minister to England telling him that "the United States will consent to give nothing below the latitude of forty-nine degrees."

After Dr. Whitman's return to Waiilatpui he resumed his labors among the Indians, and for a number of years devoted himself entirely to their

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interests, healing the sick, teaching the ignorant, and counting no labor too great if it resulted in their benefit. Yet the Indians seemed changed. When the Whitmans first began to work among them they were willing to comply with all requests, but now for some years a feeling of dissatisfaction had been slowly creeping in. The missionaries insisted on their cultivating the ground and supporting themselves by their own labor, and of this mode of life the Indians soon grew weary. They were also instigated to deeds of violence by various enemies of the missionaries. Although Dr. Whitman was aware of the existence of this hostile spirit, it seemed impossible to believe in the existence of any real danger in the face of his loving service among them for eleven years, when on the 28th of November, 1847, an Indian named Istikus, who was the firm friend of Dr. Whitman, told him of threats against his life and also that he had better "go away until my people have better hearts." Knowing Istikus as he did, the brave missionary for the first time became seriously alarmed, and began to think of removing his family to some place of safety, but still went about his work as usual.

The next morning the doctor assisted in burying an Indian, and having returned to his house, was reading. Several Indians were in the house; one sat down by him to attract his attention by asking for medicine, while another came behind him with a tomahawk concealed beneath his blanket, and with two blows brought him to the floor senseless; still he was not dead when another Indian, who was a candidate for admission to the church and on whom Dr. Whitman had bestowed numberless benefits, came in and cut his throat and mutilated his face, but even then the murdered man lingered until nearly night. This was only the beginning of a most sickening massacre in which fourteen people, including Mrs. Whitman, lost their lives.

It was believed by those familiar with the facts that this foul massacre was instigated by the enemies of the people murdered and of the cause in which they were engaged.

Despite his cruel and bloody death, the missionary work of Marcus Whitman was far from fruitless. Though the work of the American Board ended so suddenly and disastrously, years afterward it was found that many of the Indians were still faithful to the religion taught them by Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. Neither will his name be forgotten so long as the walls of Whitman College stand as a monument to the memory of a man who was glad to suffer untold privations for the good of his country and his fellow men, and at last perished through his devotion to his duty.

If Dr. Whitman could to-day make the long journey from the Columbia to the national capital on the banks of the Potomac, and could the institutions of learning and church spires now standing in the districts, villages, towns and cities through which he would pass be placed in line at convenient distances, he would never for a moment be out of sight of these objects most pleasing to him in life.