Klamaths glowed on neighboring heights. The Indians, who had never seen such invading armies of palefaces, fled to their mountain fastnesses in consternation, or now and then, from behind some shelving rock, discharged a shower of bright reed arrows pointed with volcanic glass. One evening, as the sun sent his last lingering rays against the lofty range of the Sierras, the Oregonians camped in the shining valleys of gold. These sons of adventure, who had blazed the way to Oregon and had trounced the savage, now gayly raced the hills in search of the gilded treasure.
"What if the Indians should come?" said the women left in Oregon City.
"Don't be afraid," laughed the fatherly Dr. McLoughlin. "I set a watch on the bluff every night to look after the settlement."
Panthers howled on the bluff. Indians pitched their teepees in the dark wood, and once, some years before, they shot their arrows down into the village.
The lately silent river became noisy with commerce. From a village in the woods, Portland leaped to a city, with twenty vessels waiting for cargoes at a time, all paying in bags of gold-dust, and all heading for California. Provision stores opened everywhere, prices went up among the stars; four bushels of apples from the Willamette brought five hundred dollars in San Francisco. Tons of Oregon eggs sold for a dollar apiece on the Sacramento.
One hundred and fifty Canadians deserted Fort Vancouver in a body. Douglas and Ogden hired Indians to supply their places.
The rush from Oregon began in 1848, almost a year before the rest of the world heard of the find at Sutter's mill. After six weeks on the Yuba the Oregonians
