| February 22, 2003 This transcription is of a manuscript, obtained from the Reference Library of Idaho State University, written in May 1937 by Mrs. Alta Coughanour. Please note that the story is transcribed as it was written, grammatical errors included. An interesting narrative of the adventures and experiences of the early homesteaders in the Washoe Valley. Mrs. Stroup, the first white woman to settle in Washoe, on the Snake river, coming from Missouri with her husband in 1873 as a bride of eighteen, found �the country desolate, uninhabited, wild and terrifying�. While the loneliness and isolation were hard to endure, this was as nothing compared to the torture she suffered from the terror of the Indians in paint and feathers that roamed thereabout. Great herds of wild cattle, occupied the valley, and in fear of these, she dared not venture beyond her door. With time and the arrival of other settlers, conditions improved. A step in this direction was the establishment of a school in Washoe, with an enrollment of fourteen pupils, and under the direction of three trustees, only one of whom, however, could read and write. Mrs. Alta Coughanour relates here in an appealing manner these, and may other, significant circumstances in the lives of these Washoe pioneers. REMINISCENCES OF MR. AND MRS. JACOB STROUP AND MRS. G. W. BRINNON, PIONEERS OF WASHOE, PAYETTE COUNTY, IN THE EARLY SEVENTIES. GIVEN TO THE IDAHO STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY BY MR. AND MRS. STROUP�S DAUGHTER, MRS. ALTA COUGHANOUR, PAYETTE, IDAHO MAY 1937 Both pioneers and �Johnny-come-Latelys� will enjoy these leaves from the early diary experiences of Mr. & Mrs. Jacob Stroup, Idaho Pioneers, who settled in the Washoe Valley on Snake River 52 years ago. (1925) They still have the old home on the land the took up as a homestead a half century ago. They were married at Alba, Jasper County, Missouri, in 1873. They left there to go to Walla Walla, Washington, a much talked of place at that time. Mr. Stroup had crossed the plains with a team of Colorado and Montana, where he had worked in the mines and gone back to Kansas fives times previous to this date. The story of the sixth trip follows: �Going by Omaha we went West on the Union Pacific RR., which was new at that time, to Ogden, Utah. Stopping there we stayed for 11 days, having rooms in a house occupied by a Mormon named Leavitt and his two wives. Here we bought a team of mules, wagon and camping outfit and drove through from Ogden to the Washoe ferry on Snake River in Idaho, at that time Ada County. We traveled through on the old Kelton to Boise stage road, taking about three weeks. Mrs. Stroup, just eighteen years old says: �The county looked desolate, uninhabited, and go my mind was wild and terrifying.� The Goose Creek Mountains we had to cross were deep in snow and slush; the road was almost impassable. A stage station at intervals, a freight team here and there on the road, were the only breaks in the monotony of miles and miles of sage brush plains or rough hills. �We crossed the Snake river at Glenns Ferry and stayed over one day and night at the ferry watching the Indians fish for salmon. We were most cordially invited by Mr. Glen and his young wife to eat our meals with them. Mrs. Glen lovely and was glad to meet us and hear from the outside world. They treated us like old friends with true western hospitality. When we were leaving, Mrs. Glen came out to the wagon, said she hated to see us go so badly that she wanted to say good-bye like the fellow in the story did, �Good-bye Bill, God damnit�. Driving off the main road one day, at noon , for dinner into a grassy valley the men, Wright Shafer, a young man traveling with us, and Mr. Stroup, had unhitched the team and was fixing for lunch, when a band of 18 or 20 Indians on horse back came along the road. They were carrying guns. Their faces painted like true savages, feathers sticking in their long black hair. They left the road and came out to our camp. I pulled my sun-bonnet down over my face and sat perfectly still on the wagon tongue, fearing to move or look at them. The men tried to talk to them, but they were surly and unfriendly, talking among themselves and looking us over, but no �How� or friendly greeting sign was made to us. At last, after an eternity to me, they turned back to the road and went their way. This being the year of the Modoc Indian war in the lava beds in California it was reported that the Idaho Indians were cross and ready for depredations. Arriving in Boise we stopped near the old Overland Hotel, did some trading at Falk Brothers store, drove on down the Boise Valley and camped. The greater part of the Boise Valley lands were still open to settlement at that time, but we were headed for Walla Walla and kept on West. In the Payette Valley the first house we came to was the Sims home. Farther down the valley was Falks Store, kept at that time by Ed Shainwald. About three or four miles farther down the Valley was another store kept by A. J. McFarland who also kept the post office. Mrs. McFarland talked to us about the county and the chances to get land, telling us of some land in the Snake river valley near Washoe Ferry. We were just now beginning to take an interest in locations, having met a load of apples before we got to the Payette Valley, and were told they were grown near Walla Walla. This did not sound like Walla Walla was the new country we were looking for. A few miles west of the store we left the stage road and drove to the Washoe Ferry on Snake river and camped for the night. Mr. John Emison was running the ferry at that time. His brother, Will Emison and wife also lived at the ferry house. Jim Henoty and Mr. Donohue, two bachelors, lived on the Idaho side of the river at the ferry, each in his own cabin on the opposite side of the road. A short distance above the ferry the Malheur River empties into the Snake from the Oregon side. Geo. Brinnon, wife, and four children lived near the mouth of the Malheur. Above them on the river, near the Butte (Oregon), Macomb Smith, wife and three children were running a milk ranch. The next day after wer got to the ferry was Sunday, and the Smith and Brennon families were at the ferry visiting. Seeing a woman in camp they came across the river to see us, pleased as Mrs. Glen, to see people from �back home.� The Smiths took us home with them and prevailed upon us to stay a few days and look at the land. This we did and Mr. Stroup going back to the ferry decided to take up land on the Idaho side of the river and make us a home.� Mr. Stroup says: �I took up land under the preemption right and in August 1873 built a small house on the land, hauling the lumber from Emmettsville, paying $40 per thousand for rough lumber and hauling it thirty miles. I built one room 12 x 14 feet, we went to Boise and bought a small cook stove costing $60 (green backs were then discounted ten dollars on the $100), set our stove up in the new room, and here we began life in the west. Mrs. Stroup was the first white woman to settle in Washoe on the Snake river. Our chairs and tables were home made; bed-stead was built against the wall and had one leg. The underneath space was boarded up and used the first winter to hold some wheat I had bought to sow in the spring.� The Indians then roamed through the county without hindrance. Mrs. Stroup, who had just passed her eighteenth birthday, was much in dread of them and the outlook for her was not very encouraging. She says: �The loneliness and isolation was hard to endure, but the fear of Indians was something more terrible. The would come to the home in such a quiet and stealthy way and be peeping in at the window or around the door gazing at me before I knew it. To look up and see their beady black eyes staring, their half-naked bodies often stained in crude colors, unnerved me so that I could hardly talk to them. Then to have some hideous old Indians say, �Squaw �fraid�, tended to rouse my courage and my temper too. I finally learned to stand in the door of my little house and keep them on the outside, if I saw them in time. They begged for flour, for clothing, or anything in sight that they could carry. An old buck reaching out a stealthy paw touched the finger on which I wore my wedding ring, making signed that he wanted the ring. I drew back feeling almost literally robbed of the ring. They were a sore trial to me.� |