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The Enterprise, White Salmon, WA., October 18, 1912, page 1

FIRST SETTLER BURNED OUT BY HOSTILE INDIANS
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Proposed Name for New County Calls Up Interesting Experiences of First Settler White Salmon and Hood River
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The suggestion of a "Warlyn" as the name of the proposed new county by Mrs. Henderson of Bingen recalls interesting pioneer history of this section. These White Salmon bluffs were at one time alive with yelling, hostile Indians who chased and the first settler from his home and burned the buildings.
Mrs. Henderson believes the name, by a combination of the first half of Warner and the last half of Joslyn, is appropriate.
Joslyn and his wife were the first white settlers on this side of the Columbia, the first settlers between Walla Walla and Cascade Locks. They came from Massachusetts in 1852 by way of the Isthmus of Panama. They passed through many hardships, including Indian troubles. In 1875 they sold their place, now the Byrkett Farm, and went to Colorado Springs to live. He was identified with business interests at The Dalles and served one term in the Territorial Assembly at Washington State. He died in 1904. On his place were planted the first fruit trees of this section, cherry and pear trees now measuring from five to seven feet in circumference.
Mr. Warner and wife came here in 1862, taking a place near the Joslyn's and where they continued to live till Mr. Warner's death in 1901. His first wife died in the fall of 1881. In the fall of 1883 Mr. Warner married Mrs. S.L. Henderson, who died in December of 1910.
The Warners and the Joslyns made friends with all with whom they came in contact and their hospitality was a household word over a wide territory. The pioneers hold them in fond remembrance, and the Indians speak of them as "skookum man and woman."

THE FIRST POSTOFFICE

The Warner home was the first White Salmon postoffice, the first store, first hotel and the place where the first religious services were held. Up to this spring above 1894 all freight and passenger business was handled on the Warner place at what is now with the Bingen landing, but in early days the White Salmon landing. Mr. Warner cared for the freight, used his stable for a store room, and in his home the good wife cooked the warm meals so satisfying to travelers over the long, rough roads from the upper part of this end of the county. The Warner and Joslyn homes were the gateway places to the upper valley.
Believing that the early history of this section would be of interest, the Enterprise reprints from the Hood River Glacier (1904) that part of the Reminiscences of Captain Coe, one of the two first white settlers on the Hood River side, taking up the story where the Indians begin to threaten the Joslyns:

INDIANS THREATEN

In the fall of 1855 rumors of disturbances and threatenings among the Yakima Indians became alarming, although the tribe of Klickitats, living about the Joslyn place, remained friendly to the whites. Led by their chief, Kamiaken, the Yakima as determined upon an extermination of whites along the Columbia. Although at first restrained and discouraged in their plan by the friendly Klickitats, the apparently unwarranted arrest of three Klickitat chiefs by government offices officers, precipitated an alliance and attack upon the settlers. This arrest was strongly opposed by Mr. Joslyn, who, fearing its effect, removed his wife to Portland, leaving his claim in charge of two men. Scarcely had they left the Washington shore when the men were warned by a friendly Indian that an attack was imminent, and leaving the claim they fled for their lives before a band of warriors for one whole night, reaching the river and crossing to Hood River, where but two white men and their families and lived - Nathaniel Coe and William Jenkins. From there they saw the Joslyn house and barn go up in flames kindled the hand and of old White Salmon Dave, a Yakima chief, who died in 1911.
This Indian outbreak of 1856, and the midnight flight made at that time by the small band of the Hood River settlers, is graphically described by Captain H.C. Coe, in his reminiscences of early days in Hood River published in the Glacier, April, 1903. Mr. Coe says:

MIDNIGHT FLIGHT FROM THE INDIANS

"The year 1856 was one of anxiety to the few and scattered inhabitants of eastern Oregon and Washington. Rumors of an impending Indian outbreak filled the air - came the with the winter's snows but did not go with them. For a year the columns of the Weekly Oregonian had been filled with the accounts of the barbarous torture inflicted upon helpless immigrants who fell into the hands of the hostile hordes in the eastern part of the territory. The question then with the wretched prisoners was not how long before a ransom or exchange would set them free, but how long before death would release them from the infernal tortures inflicted by their captors. Once in their clutches few escaped to tell the awful tale.
"The powerful Yakima nation, led by the noted chief Kamiaken, were practically on the war path, and their emissaries were everywhere urging the Columbia River tribes to joining in a war of extermination against the whites. The Klickitats, an important branch of the Yakimas, withstood for a time the importunities of their inland brothers and gave up their arms to the authorities without a word; but the maggot of unrest was industriously working in the "military brain," and the arrest of three of the principal chiefs of the tribe was decided upon. Mr. Joslyn, the pioneer settler of White Salmon, a warm-hearted Christian gentleman and an earnest friend of the Indians, protested in vain against the outrage. The unsuspecting Chiefs were easily trapped, loaded with chains, sent to Vancouver, and placed in charge of the regular army. They soon found means to evade the vigilance of their guards and returned to their tribe, who, with a few notable exceptions, at once joined the hostilities.
"This occurred during the latter part of February, 1856. Mr. Joslyn, satisfied that trouble would follow the arrest of the chiefs, had removed with his family to Portland, leaving a hired man named Galentine, and a boy named Hawks to look out for the place. An attack was at once planned by the angry chiefs, but the friendly Indians of notified them of the plot and they left the place and crossed to Hood River, after being chased all night by the hostiles. For this act of friendship to the whites the friendly Indians were compelled to leave their homes and with their wives and little ones also came to Hood River. There were at that time but two families living here - William Jenkins and wife and two brothers-in-law, making with our family and the man named Gallentine, seven men, two women and two boys, composing the entire white population between the Cascades and The Dalles.
"Our farm work thus far have been done very much as the Jews had rebuilded Jerusalem, with implements of war in one hand and a trowel in another. Many a day have I urged on the tardy oxen with a goad in one hand and a rifle in the other. These were troublous times. The hostile Klickitats made themselves very conspicuous along the bluffs on the Washington shore above White Salmon. For days the war drums had beat continuously, filling our hearts with forebodings of trouble.

HOWLING INDIANS GATHER ON THE BLUFFS

"The Hood River Indians had been, so far, very pronounced in their friendship toward us, and in conjunction with the friendly Klickitats, had captured and brought to the Oregon side every canoe or boat that could be found which was in reach about the hostiles. So far so good; but the Polala Illaba (sand land) Indians, under old chief Wallachin, living on what was afterward the Haynes ranch, about two miles west of Hood River, were known to have a very decided leaning toward the hostiles. We at once appealed to the military authorities at The Dalles for protection, and Lieutenant Davidson was sent down with a company of cavalry. How well I remember them coming! The hostiles had been unusually active that morning, and the boy, Woodburn Hawks and myself had been sent out to gather up the cattle and drive them home. We did not much like the job, but could not help it; but before we found the cattle we saw the smoke from the Joslyn's house and barn and hurried home as fast as our feet could carry us. We found the cavalry had arrived, and their coming was a signal for the burning. The valorous lieutenant marshaled his forces on the sand bar, and hailing the steamer Wasco on her way to The Dalles, started for the seat of war. My two brothers and the Bensons had gone with the troops, also Amos Underwood, who was on his way to the Cascades, was one of the party. How the Indians did yell! The cliffs were alive with them, and their war whoops echoed and re-echoed across the river. The valiant lieutenant, ere he reached the landing, suddenly remembered that he had orders not to molest the Indians in Washington, but merely to protect the settlers and their property at Hood River, and ordered the boat to land him again on the Oregon shore. Discretion in this case was certainly the better part of valor, for it undoubtedly saved him his scalp and that of every member of his party that was to have landed on the hostile shore.

HOSTILES ATTACK FRIENDLIES' CAMP

"That night, by some means, a band of hostiles crossed their river and attacked the camp of friendly Klickitats near where the section house now stands, and after a sharp exchange of shots in which one of the invaders was seriously wounded, the friendlies left their camp and came trooping up to the house. Soon after the hostiles came across some of the cavalry picket guard opened fire on them, which sent them scurrying to camp. These men were posted on the brow of the hill near where my house now stands, so that evidently the Indians were reconnoitering and unexpectedly ran across the guards. Everybody was of course up and under arms, but nothing else occurred during the night.
"The next day all was quiet across the river. The Indians had gone; not a squaw, papoose nor puppy was left. They had disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed them up. Even in the friendly Klickitats were at a loss to account for their absence, but the Cascade massacre was the dreadful sequel of their vanishing.
"A few days later the cavalry returned to The Dalles, and the daily routine of farm work was resumed, undisturbed until the awful horror of the 26th day of March. What a bright, beautiful day it was! The broad bosom of the Columbia was like mirrored glass. My two yoke of oxen were yoked to the wagon, and Brother Charles was deputized as special guard for the day's trip to Rail Gulch for a load of rails. Just as we were ready to start a faint "hullo" was heard from over the river, near the mouth of the White Salmon. Again and began it came. Finally, two figures were made out, waving their blankets. The Indians collected at the house, hesitated, fearing a trap, but finally, fully armed, a party started over to investigate. Before their return we had gone for our day's work. About two o'clock, when on our way home, my brother Eugene came riding up on horseback with that news that the Cascades had been attacked and that the battle was then raging, and told us to hurry home as fast as possible. The appalling news fell like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The battle was going on, or possibly over, and an elder brother there, perhaps dead.
"On reaching home we found everything in commotion. The Indians had gathered in for council and were evidently much excited. The parties who were signaling across the river in the morning proved to be a buck and his squaw who had been held as prisoners by Showouwai, a brother of Kamiaken, because he had refused to let the chief have a rifle to which the chief had taken a fancy. They had been seven days coming from the Simcoe reservation and had experienced fearful hardships on the way over from hunger and fatigue; having come in nearly all this way through snow, in some places many feet deep. They brought news that the hostiles were to start so as to reach the Cascades the very day that they had reached the river. They had strained every nerve in order to reach us sooner and give us the alarm, but they were too late.
My brother Eugene immediately started for the landing to intercept the little steamer Mary, which was then the coming in sight, and communicate the news to them. Their reply sent a thrill of terror through every heart. They themselves had been in the fight and had by the greatest chance, barely escaped with their lives, and some have been seriously if not mortally wounded, and were then on board. Their advice was for us to fly with our lives, as in all probability every soul at the Cascades would be killed, as the woods were full of Indians. About sundown a courier arrived, bringing the news that Bradford's store, where all the whites at the Upper Cascades were congregated, had been captured, as the Indians could be seen carrying flour and other things out of it. (This was a mistake as it was the Bush house, which had been abandoned and was afterward looted by the Indians.)
"A council was at once called, Indians included. They on their part promised to station guards all along the river and send couriers to the Cascades, and this promise was faithfully executed. After they had gone it was unanimously decided that we should at all hazards attempt to reach The Dalles. We had all confidence in the Klickitats; they had been proven, but were satisfied the others could not be trusted. Our only route was by the river, and the craft, a large Chinook canoe which had been hid in the brush near where the present wagon bridge crosses Hood River, and was owned by an old Indian named Waucusha. This canoe was an exceptionally fine one, capable of carrying 30 or 40 passengers.
"At about midnight the entire white population of Hood River left their homes and marched in single file to the river, where we met that the canoe and started our lonely journey. As we quietly paddled our canoe through the silent water, we heard the Indian guards signaling along the shore from one to another until far up and down the river came the answering calls. We had been discovered, and in less time than it takes to read it, every camp had been appraised of our flight.
"About noon the next day, when near Klickitat River, we met both little steamers, Mary and Wasco, fairly blue with soldiers, and loaded to the guards with cavalry and munitions of war, on their way to the relief of the Cascades. They stopped as they came to us, inquiring for news. We gave them what we had heard from the courier the night before, and they hurried along. How their polished rifles and bayonets gleamed and shimmered in that noon day sun! And they're clanking sabers made sweet music to our care-worn ears. How fierce and brave and good they looked! Oh! Would they be in time? About three o'clock we reached The Dalles, where almost the entire population turned out to meet us, inquiring for the news. And there our journey ended."
Returning to the scene of destruction, Mr. Joslyn built for himself and wife another home, and there they resumed their residence as the sole white settlers of that region.
Although never residing in The Dalles for more than a few months continuously, Mr. Joslyn was identified with the interests of that city, and on September, 17, 1859, assisted in the establishment of the First Congregational church of The Dalles, Rev. and Mrs. W.A. Tenney, E.S. Benfield, William B. Stillwell, Mr. and Mrs. Z. Donnell, Mr. and Mrs. Joslyn being the charter members of that society. He was also one of the incorporators of the Wasco Woolen mills, in this city, besides representing Skamania County for more than one term in the Washington Territorial Assembly in the '60s.