The Brutal Execution of Chief Kanaskat
A vivid and harrowing account of the 1856 Puyallup conflict and the killing of the Klickitat leader.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
On the morning of the 20th of February, 1856, at Lemons prairie, about nine miles above Tacoma, on the Puyallup, Sergeant Newton posted a private named Kehl and two others as a picket guard. The cooks had already lighted the fires, and the soldier saw a gleam of light reflected from a rifle barrel. Then he saw five Indians in single file creeping stealthily down the hill. Kehl waited till the leader was nearly abreast of him, and then fired, when the great chief Kanaskat fell, shot through the spine, which paralyzed his legs. As they dragged him across the bridge he continued to call out. Some one came who recognized the wounded Indian, and exclaimed, 'Kanaskat!' 'Kanaskat!' said he with tremendous energy, his voice rising to a scream—'Kanaskat—Typee mameloos mika mika! Boston.' He added, 'My heart is wicked to the whites, and always will be, so you had better kill me.' Corporal O'Shaughnessy, who was standing by, placed his rifle close to the chief's temple and blew a hole through his head.
“My heart is wicked to the whites, and always will be, so you had better kill me.”
This account reflects the brutal realities of the mid-19th-century conflict between settlers and Indigenous nations in the Pacific Northwest. While the narrative is told from the perspective of an army officer, the mention of the Puyallup River and the geography near Tacoma grounds this in a landscape that remains contested and significant today.
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