1916: Rickreall: letter “L” is hard for Indian

Info from some old-timers, I reckon.

There’s an article, “Rickreall and Buckaroo“, in the Morning Oregonian of August 14, 1916, that casually ponders the origin of the Oregon place name, Rickreall.

(I’ve previously noted that Rickreall seems to come from Métis French le créole.)

This is effectively answered by a letter from reader Ed C. Ross, a pioneer of 1847 and thus knowledgeable about a number of relevant things:

Letter #1:

Screenshot 2024-01-10 121355

INDIAN STUMPED BY LETTER “R.”

Inability to Pronounce It Is Cited In Rickreall Discussion.

PORTLAND, Aug. 13. — (To the Edi-
tor.) — I do not intend to become partisan
in the good-natured controversy as
to the origin or significance of the
name of that sparkling little stream in
Polk County, variously called “Rick-
reall[“] and “La Creole.” “Rickreall”

does not sound to me like an Indian
word. The Indian always “shys” at
the letter “r” and substitutes the let-
ter “l.” If he tried to say “Rickreall”
it would come out “Lick-le-all:” “car-
bine” is [in Chinuk Wawa]col-a-pine.” I do not recall
one word in which the Indian will give
“r” a full round sound.

For instance, on one occasion when
asked if he “liked crickets” as a food,
an Indian said, “klicket, wake close
muc-a-muc nika tickey labbit,” mean-
Ing, crickets no good to eat, I prefer
rabbit.” He dodged his “r” and in-
serted his “l” all right, as usual.

During territorial days in Oregon,
before Hood River had acquired its
present name, I tried to learn from an
Indian the original (or, shall I say,
“aboriginal” name?) of that stream.
He told me that the name was “Dog
Liver.” The whites had in earlier
times dubbed it Dog River. All I
learned from that Siwash was his 

adroitness in substituting “l” for “r.”

It seems to me that Dr. McLaugh-
Iin came mighty near settling the dis-
pute as to why some insisted on call-
ing It “La Creole” when the doctor
said an old Frenchman [i.e. Métis] had been
drowned in that stream. Imagine the 

next following member of that trapping
party suddenly discovering the water-
logged remalns, and explaining with
appropriate shrugs and gestures “La
Creole!

Thus giving the name which
has stuck with more or less adhesive-
ness ever since. But of the skeptic
who clings to the heresy of “Rick-
reall” ever having been given to the
stream as a name I ask, why did not
the Indians find a name that they could
pronounce without having to cut out
two “r’s” and insert two “l’s” and even
then have to call it Lick-li-all?

The introduction of extracts from 
The Spectator and The Oregonian, 
printed long after this controversy was
waging [sic], which print the word as
“Rickreall,” are not as good author-
ity as is the testimony of the settlers,
then in the neighborhood, and are con-
clusive of nothing!          ED. C. ROSS.

Letter #2:

By 1916, few Northwesterners any longer signed their letters to newspaper editors with clever pseudonyms, often Chinuk Wawa ones; that was an earlier, more frontier-era, custom.

The following presumably male correspondent, so I’ll call ’em “he”, has the handle “Injun”.

Here, he wants to talk about the Oregon place name Rickreall (from Métis French la créole) and Native languages, including Chinook Jargon.

His views are bound to be nonscientific opinions, but probably well based in fact.

Let’s see what he’s got to tell us:

Screenshot 2024-01-10 114442

Screenshot 2024-01-10 114618

LETTER “l” IS HARD FOR INDIAN

But Only at Beginning of Word, Avers Correspondent.

PORTLAND, Aug. 17 . — (To the Edi-
tor.) — Ed C. Ross good-naturedly en-
tered the controversy over the pro-
nunciation of the name “Rickreall” and
its origin. When he wrote on the 13th
instant as he did, he immediately gave
me an opportunity to contribute my bit.
He used the expression, “Klicket,
wake close muc-a-muc, nika tickey
labbit,” but omitted to tell us that this
was the old Chinook jargon and not
one of the several languages of the
Coast. This draws the comment, Ross
nica halo cumtux Siwash wawa. Delate 
cultus wawa, as far as the use of this
old trading jargon is concerned.

The change from La Creole to Rick-
reall is very probable because at the be-
ginning of words the Indian finds it
very difficult to pronounce his “ls,” but
never at the end of words. His “l”
Is changed to “r” at the beginning, but
It remains unchanged in the body and
end of words. It is very possible that
“la” was changed to “ra” and as the
next “I” was at the end of the word
the Indian had no difficulty in pro-
nouncing it. But the words might have
been blended so that instead of having
La Creole we now have Rickreall.

My line of thought would be more
consistent than that of Mr. Ross be-
cause he used the example of “Dog
River – Dog Liver,” and just before
using this Illustration he said that the
Indian always changed all his “r.s”[.] 
From my statement, the way the old
Indian pronounced the name,
changing of the “l” at the beginning,
but not at the end would be true.

Being of Indian origin and having
lived with them and also with those
having modern “civilization” I have
had an especial opportunity to observe
the idiosyncrasies of both the language
and habit of the aboriginee [sic]. My ob-
servation is not limited to what one old
Indian might have told me nor to the
observation of a couple of old settlers.

“INJUN.”

— from the Portland (OR) Morning Oregonian of August 14 & of August 18, 1916, page 8, column  6

Bonus fact:

We’ve seen the uncommon word “klicket” connected with Chinuk Wawa elsewhere — in northern California.

ikta mayka chaku-kəmtəks?
What have you learned?