The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1894-08-31
A Pioneers Account OF
the Big Blaze.
People Fled Before It to
the Ocean.
A Nestucca Chief Quoted-The First
Whites He Saw Came in q
big Canoe"

"A Trip through the SOdSt
mountains reveals to the eye of the
traveller a vast eXpanse Of dead tim
ber, whose tall charred trunks are the
sepulchral statues of once green and
luxuriant forest. The fire that devas-
tated so much valuauie timber on both
sides of the Willamette river occurred
in 1S45. The summer of that year was
exceptionally dry, and the trees and
underbrush burned like tinder.
While at Woods recently, says the
editor of the Sheridan Sun, we met
Peter Belleque. a fisherman, who was
born on French prairie in 1886. Of
French parents. The writer found Mr..
Belleque a ready racconteur of pioneer
events, who among other things threw
| light upon the origin Of the great for
| est confia grafton of 1S45, not hitherto
published.
In the fall Of 1s45, "Nigger John
son." a cook, who deserted from an
English man-of-war, at the mouth
of the Columbia few years previous,
set fire to slashing on ranch upon
which he had "squatted," near Cham
poeg in what is now Marion county.
| Johnson succeeded in getting q good
| burn on his Ella ashing, but unfortunate
| ly for the forests, the fire spread in
all directions. On the east side of the
I Willamette it swept path through
the valley as Gfs as midnight.
Reaching the mountains It m5Ysd
terrible swath through the Cascafses
clear to the summit. Crossing the>
Willamette, it blazed out a path
| through the valley to the Coast range.
| the principal trail being confined, how
ever to the mountain ranges. hot,
| dry wind famed 1t day and night
| and the whole valley was filled with a
pail of smoke. So dense did the smoke
become that the settlers were forced
| to eat their midday meal by candle
! light. Travel was largely discontin-
| ued. Navigation off the Oregon coast
| became dangerous, and ships lay at
| the mouth of the Columbia for weeks
| waiting for the fearful cloud Of smoke
| to leave. Many Of the settlers be-
| came apprehensive that the end of the
| world was at hand. Streams flowed
| red with lye and ashes. and many
| water courses of no small size became
stagnant pools, or dried up altogether.
| Mr. Belleque. some years ago, inter-
viewed old Dick Harna, now on the
| SiIetz reservation, about the fire In
| Tillamook county. Harna was CHIEF
of the Nestuccas, a small tribe of In
| dians who lived along the coast at the
time. Harna, according to Belleque,
gave -,:vid description Of the fire, as
| witnessed by himself. He and por-
| ton Of his tribe were encamped ON the
| Big Nestucca river about four miles
| from the present site of the town OF
| Woods For several days, according
| to the Indi. rs, there had been q great
| deal of smoke Each day 1t grew
denser, and filled the Indians with no
| little alarm. Finally, one night, the
| Nestuccas were awakened by bright
| red glare in the Eastern sky which
| grew more and more brilliant. BY
| sunrise, great flames were seen leaping
| skyward from the submits of. the hills
| and the air was resonant with roar
| a hundred times louder than the noise
| of the surf on the ocean beach. Nearer
and nearer came the Rerce sea OF
flame. So rapidly did 1T approach that
| the terrified Indians had no time to
remove their scanty belongings, but
| hastily jumping into their dugouts.
| padded down the river to the ocean
| beach with all possible speed. Be
tween Mr.. Malaney's ranch and the
| ocean below Woods, the Nestucca
makes an angle and between the river
and the ocean beach there is, at its
greatest width, bare sand spit of
| ndlI d mile. mere, oiiu has
braves took refuge and subsisted upon
fish for some weeks until a heavy ram
put out the fire.
All that remained of the vast forests
of fir and spruce and larch were
blackened trunks that reared their
scared forms heavenward as If in
mourning for their loss of verdure and
foliage. Padding up the river to their
| old haunts, gruesome sights met the
| eyes of the Indians at every turn. Here
and there piled up in groups were
| bands of elk and deer charred crisp;
bear were found neatly barbecued;
} and panthers, with their bodies still
} in the water, showed their ghastly
| cooked heads-denuded of every ha1r,
: and sightless before death came.
Another band of Indians retreated
before the flames to Sand Lake be-
, tween Cape Kiwanda and Lookout
where they found safe asylum until
the welcome rain came. Luckily
| there were no white settlers In Ttlla-
nook at that time. The fallen debris
, previous to the fire was undoubtedly
the accumulation of century. LII
, many places, young growths OF fr are
. springing up on the mountains, while
the water courses are fringed with
dense growth of alder. But 1t will
take another century to replace tine
. grand forests in the line of the great
: | confia gra ton of 1S45.
, Harna. who is now an old and feeble
, Indian, told Bellevue that the mrs
white man he ever saw came In 9
"big stick canoe with wings" and an
chored near Cape Kiwanda. While thu
Indians were gazing at the huge cano'
> out upon the then calm ocean, small
; boat filled with men dressed In buck
: / skin. came ashore, and traded will
| them, the Indians exchanging sucl
: skins and dried salmon as they pos
: sessed for beads, hatchets, etc. From
r Harna's description of the "hya
]; tyee" and his companions, Bellequ
n believes that the white man was 10
: seph Flambois. a Hudson Bay mar
who traded with the Indians along tn
o coast from Fort Astor to California
n somewhere about 1888. Flambois wa
good navigator, and visited man
It of the inlets and bays of the orego
x,,ytI htoStct "a little achOOpa1