JOHN DAVENPORT, COLFAX 



<By HOMER DAVENPORT 



IVith Drawings by the Writer 



Once in Silverton, Oregon, under 

 the big oak tree thai stood in the cen- 

 ter of Main Street, an old Indian was 



as only an Indian would, and went 

 at a slow dog trot down the road to- 

 wards the heavy timber ranges of the 

 Upper Molally. Not many noticed the 

 incident, and there was little or no 

 comment outside of a few joking men, 

 the main joke being that an Indian could 

 cry or nearly so. The Indian was old 

 Shian, the last of the Molally tribe. 

 The man with the pleasant smile and 

 the queer chin beard was John Daven- 

 port, a partner with A. I. Coolidge, 

 pioneers in the old brick store. 



It was about the year 1875 that John 

 Davenport was going to the Palouse 



(. ( SHIAN 



seen to be half crying as he talked to a 

 white man. They had been dear friends 

 for a great many years, and they had 

 met to say good-bye, apparently for- 

 ever. The Indian was an old one, and 

 his face and hair were about the same 

 color of the tears that went streaking 

 down the deep wrinkles of his face till 

 they met under his chin. The white 

 man was young in appearance, although 

 with whitish hair and a white chin 

 beard, with which he gave a peculiar 

 toss every now and then. There was 

 a long hand-shake with the Indian 

 clinching, apparently to save time. Fi- 

 nally the white man pulled himself 

 away, turned and w T alked into the old 

 brick store. The Indian wandered up 

 the middle of the street till it changed 

 into the Molally Road. There's where 



his pony was tied. Here, drying his country to go into the general merchan- 

 eyes with the corners of his buckskin dise business -on a large scale, and- he 

 coat, he scrambled onto his pony's back,, finally settled at Colfax, Washington. 



. 48-2 



HIS LAST GOOD-BYE 



