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From: John & Mary Palmer <>
Subject: [ORCROOK] Oregon Trail Story
Date: Tue, 09 Jul 2002 17:16:01 -0400

Hi Colleen,

I decided to take up your challenge and send in an Oregon Trail story. It's
not my own, buy I came across this while I have been looking through The
Prineville, Crook County Journal microfilm for 1901 through 1903. This may
be of interest to some people, I hope.

Prineville, Crook County Journal, May 23, 1901

PIONEER DAYS
On the Oregon Trail 37 Years Ago.

French Renegade
C. J. Durban Tells of Killing a Murderous Red By Accident.

C. J. Durban, a gray haired old pioneer who resides near Huntington, tells a
story of his experience near where Vale now stands, before there was any
thought of building a town here.
About 37 years ago Mr. Durban and his family were members of an immigrant
train which had camped for the night at the crossing of the Old Oregon trail
on the Malheur River just below town. The immigrants were tired and camped
sometime before night. Members of the party had visited the hot springs
farther down the river and wondered at the marvels of nature, while others
prepared the evening meal.
Just before sundown the tired and hungry travelers had seated themselves
about their crude tables made of boxes and fragments of planks and began to
partake of their limited supply of provisions, when a party of mounted
Indians appeared on the summit of one of the foot hills overlooking the camp
and the site now occupied by Vale, and made overtures of peace. The
immigrants were wary and rising to their feet as one man, “presented arms.”
One Indian came forward, apparently unarmed, and the immigrants laid down
their weapons and proceeded with their meal, however, keeping a weather eye
upon their visitors. The lone Indian who was a big husky fellow came into
camp, and seeing one of the women of the party who near Mr. Durban, with a
loaf of bread in her hand, drew an ugly knife and rushed at her saying: “Me
hungry!”
Her husband sat paralyzed with fear and did not attempt to defend his wife.
Mr. Durban, realizing the situation, looked about him, and seeing a large
stick that was used as a guy-stick to hold down the tent in case of storms,
seized the same and hurled it at the Indian, intending to “stun” him to
prevent the murderous assault upon the woman. Mr. Durban says that it
“accidentally” struck the Indian above the left ear and the noble red man
fell his full length upon the ground, quivered for a moment and then was
still. It was soon discovered (not legible).
Under the menacing gestures and yells of the Indians on the hill who had
witnessed the scene, the immigrants dragged the body of the “good” Indian to
one side and sat down to their meals again, taking care to keep their rifles
close at hand.
The band of Indians soon disappeared and all became quiet. Later in the
night; however, a larger band appeared headed by a Frenchman. In broken
English, he asked permission to take the body of the dead Indian away. He
was granted the permission with the understanding that only a sufficient
number of his party should come to camp to bear the body away.
When they had reached the summit of the hill with the body of the dead
Indian, the Indians raised their war whoop and the Frenchman announced to
the immigrants that the matter was not settled and that the Indians would be
heard from again.
Mr. Durbin shouted back that if they were not satisfied the immigrants
would furnish them with some more burial material.
The immigrants slept on their arms all night but were not disturbed, and
next morning pursued their journey in peace. – Reprinted from the Vale
Democrat

Submitted to ORCROOK by John Palmer, MI

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