GLACIER FALL.(550 feet in height.)
GLACIER FALL.
(550 feet in height.)
The duties of the day had been severe on men and horses, for beside fording the Merced several times, the numerous branches pouring over cliffs and down ravines from the melting snow, rendered the overflow of the bottom lands so constant that we were often compelled to splash through the water-courses that later would be dry. These torrents of cold water, commanded more especial attention, and excited morecommentthan did the grandeur of the cliffs and water-falls. We were not a party of tourists, seeking recreation, nor philosophers investigating the operations of nature. Our business there was to find Indians who were endeavoring to escape from ourcharitableintentions toward them. But very few of the volunteers seemed to have any appreciation of the wonderful proportions of the enclosinggranite rocks; their curiosity had been to see the stronghold of the enemy, and thegeneralverdict was that it was gloomy enough.
Tired and wet, the independent scouts sought the camp and reported their failures. Gilbert and Chandler came in with their detachments just at dark, from their tiresome explorations of the southern branches. Only a small squad of their commands climbed above the Vernal and Nevada falls; and seeing the clouds resting upon the mountains above the Nevada Fall, they retraced their steps through the showering mist of the Vernal, and joined their comrades, who had already started down its rocky gorge. These men found no Indians, but they were the first discoverers of the Vernal and Nevada Falls, and the Little Yosemite. They reported what they had seen to their assembled comrades at the evening camp-fires. Their names have now passed from my memory—not having had an intimate personal acquaintance with them—for according to my recollection they belonged to the company of Capt. Dill.
While on our way down to camp we met Major Savage with a detachment who had been burning a largecachélocated in the fork, and another small one below the mouth of the Ten-ie-ya branch. This had been held in reserve for possible use, but the Major had now fired it, and the flames were leaping high. Observing his movements for a few moments we rode up and made report of our unsuccessful efforts. I briefly, but with some enthusiasm, described my view from the cliff up the North Cañon, the Mirror Lake view of the Half Dome, the Fall of the South Cañon and the view of the distant South Dome. I volunteered a suggestion that some new tactics would have to be devised before we should be able to corral the “Grizzlies” or “smoke them out.” The Major looked up from the charred mass of burning acorns, and as he glanced down the smoky valley,said: “This affords us the best prospect of any yet discovered; just look!” “Splendid!” I promptly replied, “Yo-sem-i-te must be beautifully grand a few weeks later, when the foliage and flowers are at their prime, and the rush of water has somewhat subsided. Such cliffs and water-falls I never saw before, and I doubt if they exist in any other place.”
VERNAL FALL.(350 feet in height.)
VERNAL FALL.
(350 feet in height.)
I was surprised and somewhat irritated by the hearty laugh with which my reply was greeted. The Major caught the expression of my eye and shrugged his shoulders as he hastily said: “I suppose that is all right, Doctor, about the water-falls, &c., for there are enough of them here for one locality, as we have all discovered; but my remark was not in reference to the scenery, but theprospectof the Indians being starved out, and of their coming in to sue for peace. We have all been more or less wet since we rolled up our blankets this morning, and this fire is very enjoyable, butthe prospect that it offers to my mind ofsmoking outthe Indians, is more agreeable to me than its warmth or all the scenery in creation. I know, Doc., that there is a good deal of iron in you, but there is also considerable sentiment, and I am not in a very sentimental mood.” I replied that I did not think that any of us felt very much like making love or writing poetry, but that Ten-ie-ya’s remark to him about the “Great Spirit” providing so bountifully for his people, had several times occurred to me since entering here, and that no doubt to Ten-ie-ya, this was a veritable Indian paradise. “Well,” said the Major, “as far as that is concerned, although I have not carried a Bible with me since I became a mountain-man, I remember well enough that Satan entered paradise and did all the mischief he could, but I intend to be a bigger devil in this Indian paradisethan old Satan ever was; and when I leave, I don’t intend tocrawlout, either. Now Doc. we will go to camp but let me say while upon the subject, that we are in no condition to judge fairly of this valley. The annoyances and disappointments of a fruitless search, together with the certainty of a snow-storm approaching, makes all this beautiful scenery appear to me gloomy enough. In a word, it is what we supposed it to be before seeing it, a h—— of a place. The valley, no doubt, will always be a wonder for its grouping of cliffs and water-falls, but hemmed in by walls of rock, your vision turned in, as it were, upon yourself—a residence here would be anything but desirable for me. Any one of the Rocky Mountain parks would be preferable, while the ease with which buffalo, black-tail and big-horn could be provided in the “Rockies” would, in comparison, make your Indian paradise anything but desirable, even for these Indians.”
NEVADA FALL.(600 feet in height.)
NEVADA FALL.
(600 feet in height.)
The more practical tone and views of the Major dampened the ardor of my fancy in investing the valley with all desirable qualities, but as we compared with each other the experiences of the day, it was very clear that the half had not yet been seen or told, and that repeated views would be required before any one person could say that he had seen the Yosemite. It will probably be as well for me to say here that though Major Savage commanded the first expedition to the valley, he never revisited it, and died without ever having seen the Vernal and Nevada Falls, or any of the views belonging to the region of the Yosemite, except those seen from the valley and from the old Indian trail on our first entrance.
We found our camp had been plentifully supplied with dry wood by the provident guard, urged, no doubt, by the threatening appearances of another snow-storm. Some rude shelters of poles and brush were thrown up around thefires, on which were placed the drying blankets, the whole serving as an improvement on our bivouac accomodations. The night was colder than the previous one, for the wind was coming down the cañons of the snowy Sierras. The fires were lavishly piled with the dry oak wood, which sent out a glowing warmth. The fatigue and exposure of the day were forgotten in the hilarity with which supper was devoured by the hungry scouts while steaming in their wet garments. After supper Major Savage announced that “from the very extensive draft on the commissary stores just made, it was necessary to return to the ‘South Fork.’” He said that it would be advisable for us to return, as we were not in a condition to endure delay if the threatened storm should prove to be a severe one; and ordered both Captains Boling and Dill to have their companies ready for the march at daylight the next morning.
While enjoying the warmth of the fire preparatory to a night’s rest, the incidents of our observations during the day were interchanged. The probable heights of the cliffs was discussed. Oneofficialestimated “El Capitan” at 400 feet!! Capt. Boling at 800 feet; Major Savage was in no mood to venture an opinion. My estimate was a sheer perpendicularity of at least 1500 feet. Mr. C. H. Spencer, son of Prof. Thomas Spencer, of Geneva, N. Y.,—who had traveled quite extensively in Europe,—and a French gentleman, Monsieur Bouglinval, a civil engineer, who had joined us for the sake of adventure, gave me their opinions that my estimate was none too high; that it was probable that I was far below a correct measurement, for when there was so much sameness of height the judgment could not very well be assisted by comparison, and hence instrumental measurements alone could be relied on. Time has demonstrated the correctness of their opinions. These gentlemen were men of education and practical experiencein observing the heights of objects of which measurement had been made, and quietly reminded their auditors that it was difficult to measure such massive objects with the eye alone. That some author had said: “But few persons have a correct judgment of height that rises above sixty feet.”
I became somewhat earnest and enthusiastic on the subject of the valley, and expressed myself in such a positive manner that the “enfant terrible” of the company derisively asked if I was given to exaggeration before I became an “Indian fighter.” From my ardor in description, and admiration of the scenery, I found myself nicknamed “Yosemity” by some of the battalion. It was customary among the mountain men and miners to prefix distinctive names. From this hint I became lessexpressive, when conversing on matters relating to the valley. My self-respect caused me to talk less among my comrades generally, but with intimate friends the subject was always an open one, and my estimates of heights were never reduced.
Major Savage took no part in this camp discussion, but on our expressing a design to revisit the valley at some future time, he assured us that there was a probability of our being fully gratified, for if the renegades did not voluntarily come in, another visit would soon have to be made by the battalion, when we could have opportunity to measure the rocks if we then desired. That we should first escort our “captives” to the commissioners’ camp on the Fresno; that by the time we returned to the valley the trails would be clear of snow, and we would be able to explore to our satisfaction. Casting a quizzing glance at me, he said: “The rocks will probably keep, but you will not find all of these immensewater-powers.”
Notwithstanding a little warmth of discussion, we cheerfully wrapped ourselves in our blankets and slept, until awakened by the guard; for there had been no disturbanceduring the night. The snow had fallen only to about the depth of an inch in the valley, but the storm still continued.
By early dawn “all ready” was announced, and we started back without having seen any of the Indian race except our useless guide and the old squaw. Major Savage rode at the head of the column, retracing our trail, rather than attempt to follow down the south side. The water was relatively low in the early morning, and the fords were passed without difficulty. While passing El Capitan I felt like saluting, as I would some dignified acquaintance.
Thecachésbelow were yet smouldering, but the lodges had disappeared.
At our entrance we had closely followed the Indian trail over rocks that could not be re-ascended with animals. To return, we were compelled to remove a few obstructions of poles, brush and loose rocks, placed by the Indians to prevent the escape of the animals stolen and driven down. Entire herds had been sometimes taken from the ranches or their ranges.
After leaving the valley, but little difficulty was encountered. The snow had drifted into the hollows, but had not to any extent obscured the trail, which we now found quite hard. We reached the camp earlier in the day than we had reason to expect. During these three days of absence from headquarters, we had discovered, named and partially explored one of the most remarkable of the geographical wonders of the world.
Out of Provisions—A hurried Move—Mills where Indians take Their Grists, and Pots in which they Boil their Food—Advance Movement of Captain Dill—A Hungry Squad—Enjoyment—Neglect of Duty—Escape of Indians—Following their Trail—A Sorrowful Captain—A Mystery made Clear—Duplicity of the Chow-chillas—Vow-chester’s Good-will Offering—Return of the Fugitives—Major Savage as Agent and Interpreter.
Out of Provisions—A hurried Move—Mills where Indians take Their Grists, and Pots in which they Boil their Food—Advance Movement of Captain Dill—A Hungry Squad—Enjoyment—Neglect of Duty—Escape of Indians—Following their Trail—A Sorrowful Captain—A Mystery made Clear—Duplicity of the Chow-chillas—Vow-chester’s Good-will Offering—Return of the Fugitives—Major Savage as Agent and Interpreter.
On our arrival at the rendezvous on the South Fork the officer in charge reported; “We are about out of grub.” This was a satisfactory cause for a hurried movement; for a short allowance had more terrors for men with our appetites than severe duties; and most of us had already learned that, even with prejudice laid aside, our stomachs would refuse the hospitalities of the Indians, if it were possible for them to share with us from their own scanty stores. The Major’s experience prompted him at once to give the order to break camp and move on for the camp on the Fresno.
Our mounted force chafed at the slowness of our march; for the Indians could not be hurried. Although their cookery was of the most primitive character, we were very much delayed by the time consumed in preparing their food.
While traveling we were compelled to accommodate our movements to the capacities or inclinations of the women and children. Captain Dill, therefore, with his company was sent on ahead from the crossing of the South Fork, they leaving with us what food they could spare. WhenDill reached the waters of the Fresno about one hundred “captives” joined him. These Indians voluntarily surrendered to Captain Dill’s company, which at once hurried them on, and they reached the commissioners at the Fresno.
Captain Boling’s company and Major Savage remained with the “Grand Caravan,” keeping out scouts and hunters to secure such game as might be found to supply ourselves with food. We had no anxiety for the safety or security of our “captives;” our own subsistence was the important consideration; for the first night out from Bishop’s camp left us but scanty stores for breakfast. Our halting places were selected from the old Indian camping grounds, which were supplied with hoyas (holes or mortars). These permanent mortars were in the bed-rock, or in large detached rocks that had fallen from the cliffs or mountains. These “hoyas” had been formed and used by past generations. They were frequent on our route, many of them had long been abandoned; as there was no indications of recent uses having been made of them. From their numbers it was believed that the Indians had once been much more numerous than at that date.
By means of the stone pestles with which they were provided, the squaws used these primitive mills to reduce their acorns and grass seeds to flour or meal. While the grists were being ground, others built the fires on which stones were heated.
When red hot, these stones were plunged into baskets nearly filled with water; this is continued until the water boils. The stones are then removed and the acorn meal, or a cold mixture of it, is stirred in until thin gruel is made; the hot stones are again plunged into the liquid mass and again removed. When sufficiently cooked, this “Atola” or porridge, was poured into plates or moulds of sand, prepared for that purpose. During the process of cooling, theexcess of water leaches off through the sand, leaving the woody fibre tannin and unappropriated coarse meal in distinctive strata; the edible portion being so defined as to be easily separated from the refuse and sand. This preparation was highly prized by them, and contrary to preconceived ideas and information, all of the Indians I asked assured me that thebitteracorns were the best when cooked. This compound of acorn meal resembles corn starch blanc mange in color, but is more dense in consistency. Although it was free from grit, and comparatively clean, none of us were able to eat it, and we were quite hungry. From this, I was led to conclude that to relish this Indian staple, the taste must be acquired while very young.
Old Ten-ie-ya’s four wives, and other squaws, were disposed to be quite hospitable when they learned that our supply of provisions was exhausted. None of the command, however, ventured to sample their acorn-jellies, grass-seed mush, roasted grasshoppers, and their other delicacies; nothing was accepted but the Piñon pine nuts, which were generally devoured with a relish and a regret for the scarcity.
Certain species of worms, the larvæ of ants and some other insects, common mushrooms and truffles, or wood-mushrooms, are prized by the Indian epicure, as are eels, shrimps, oysters, frogs, turtles, snails, etc., by his white civilized brother. Are we really but creatures of education?
Thebasketsused by the Indians for boiling their food and other purposes, as has been before stated, are made of a tough mountain bunch-grass, nearly as hard and as strong as wire, and almost as durable. So closely woven are they, that but little if any water can escape from them. They are made wholly impervious with a resinous compound resembling the vulcanized rubber used by dentists. Thiscomposition does not appear to be in the least affected by hot water. The same substance, in appearance at least, is used by Mountain Indians in attaching sinews to bows, and feathers and barbs to arrows.
I endeavored to ascertain what the composition was, but could only learn that the resin was procured from small trees or shrubs, and that some substance (probably mineral) was mixed with it, the latter to resist the action of heat and moisture. I made a shrewd guess that pulverized lava and sulphur (abundant east of the High Sierras) was used, but for some cause I was left in ignorance. The Indians, like all ignorant persons, ascribe remarkable virtues to very simple acts and to inert remedies. Upon one occasion a doctor was extolling the virtues of a certain root, ascribing to it almost miraculous powers; I tried in vain to induce him to tell me the name of the root. He stated that the secret was an heir-loom, and if told, the curative power of the plant would disappear; but he kindly gave me some as a preventive of some imaginary ill, when lo! I discovered the famous remedy to be the cowslip.
After a delayed and hungry march of several days, we halted near sundown within a few miles of the Commissioner’s headquarters, and went into camp for the night. The Indians came straggling in at will from their hunts on the way, their trophies of skill with their bows being the big California squirrels, rabbits or hares and quail. Our more expert white hunters had occasionally brought in venison for our use. We had ceased to keep a very effective guard over our “captives;” none seemed necessary, as all appeared contented and satisfied, almost joyous, as we neared their destination on the Fresno.
The truth is, we regarded hostilities, so far as these Indians were concerned, as ended. We had voted the peace policy a veritable success. We had discussed the matter incamp, and contrasted the lack of spirit exhibited by these people with what we knew of the warlike character of the Indians of Texas and of the Northwestern plains. In these comparisons, respect for our captives was lost in contempt. “The noble red man” was not here represented. The only ones of the Pacific Slope, excepting the Navahoes, Pimas and Maricopahs, that bear any comparison with the Eastern tribes for intelligence and bravery, are the You-mahs of the Colorado river, the Modocs, and some of the Rogue and Columbia river tribes, but none of these really equal the Sioux and some other Eastern tribes.
Hardly any attention had been paid to the captives during the preceding night, except from the guard about our own camp; from a supposition that our services could well be spared. Application was therefore made by a few of us, for permission to accompany the Major, who had determined to go on to the Fresno head-quarters. When consent was given, the wish was so generally expressed, that Captain Boling with nine men to act as camp guard, volunteered to remain, if Major Savage would allow the hungry “boys” to ride with him. The Major finally assented to the proposition, saying: “I do not suppose the Indians can be driven off, or be induced to leave until they have had the feast I promised them; besides, they will want to see some of the commissioner’s finery. I have been delighting their imaginations with descriptions of the presents in store for them.”
When the order was passed for the hungry squad to fall in, we mounted with grateful feelings towards Captain Boling, and the “boys” declared that the Major was a trump, for his consideration of our need. With the prospect of a good “square” meal, and the hope of a genial “smile” from our popular commissary, the time soon passed, and the distance seemed shortened, for we entered the Fresno camp before our anticipations were cloyed. Head-quarters waswell supplied with all needful comforts, and was not totally deficient in luxuries. Our Quarter-Master and Commissary was active in his duties, and as some good women say of their husbands, “He was a good provider.” We had no reason to complain of our reception; our urgent requirements were cheerfully met. The fullness of our entertainment did not prevent a good night’s rest, nor interfere with the comfortable breakfast which we enjoyed. While taking coffee, the self denial of Captain Boling and his volunteer guard was not forgotten. Arrangements were made to furnish the best edible and potable stores, that could be secured from our conscientious and prudent commissary. We were determined to give them a glorious reception; but—the Captain did not bring in his captives! Major Savage sent out a small detachment to ascertain the cause of the delay. This party filled their haversacks with comforts for the “Indian guard.” After some hours of delay, the Major became anxious to hear from Captain Boling, and began to be suspicious that something more serious than the loss of his animals, was the cause of not sending in a messenger, and he ordered out another detachment large enough to meet any supposed emergency. Not far from camp, they met the Captain and his nine men (the “Indian guard”) andoneIndian, with the relief party first sent out. Our jovial Captain rode into “Head-quarters” looking more crest fallen than he had ever been seen before. When asked by the Major where he had left the Indians, he blushed like a coy maiden and said: “They have all gone to the mountains, but the one I have with me.”
After Captain Boling had made his report to the Major, and made all explanations to the commissioners, and when he had refreshed himself with an extra ration or two of the potable liquid, that by special stipulation had been reserved for the “Indian Guard,” something of his old humor returnedto him, and he gave us the details of his annoyances by the breach of trust on the part of “our prisoners.”
The Captain said: “Soon after you left us last night, one of my men, who was out hunting when we camped, came in with a deer he had killed just at the dusk of the evening. From this we made a hearty supper, and allowed the youth who had helped to bring in the deer to share in the meat. The Indian cooked the part given to him at our fire, and ate with the avidity of a famished wolf. This excited comment, and anecdotes followed of the enormous appetites displayed by some of them. The question was then raised, ‘how much can this Indian eat at one meal?’ I suggested that a fair trial could not be had with only one deer. Our hunter said he would give him a preliminary trial, and when deer were plenty we could then test his full capacity, if he should prove a safe one to bet on. He then cut such pieces as we thought would suffice for our breakfast, and, with my approval, gave the remainder to his boy, who was anxiously watching his movements. I consented to this arrangement, not as a test of his capacity, for I had often seen a hungry Indian eat, but as a reward for his services in bringing in the deer on his shoulders. He readily re-commenced his supper, and continued to feast until every bone was cracked and picked. When the last morsel of the venison had disappeared he commenced a doleful sing-song, ‘Way-ah-we-ha-ha, Wah-ah-we-ha-ha’ to some unknown deity, or, if I was to judge from my ear of the music, it must have been his prayer to the devil, for I have heard that it is a part of their worship. His song was soon echoed from the camp where all seemed contentment. Afterconsolinghimself in this manner for some time he fell asleep at our fire.
“The performance being over, I told my men to take their sleep and I would watch, as I was not sleepy; if I wantedthem I would call them. I then thought, as Major Savage had declared, the Indians could scarcely be driven off, until they had had their feast and the presents they expected to have given them. I sat by the fire for a long time cogitating on past events and future prospects, when thinking it useless to require the men to stand guard, I told them to sleep. Moving about and seeing nothing but the usual appearance, I decided it to be unneccessary to exercise any further vigilance, and told one of the men, who was partially aroused by my movements, and who offered to get up and stand guard, that he had better lie still and sleep. Toward morning I took another round, and finding the Indian camp wrapped in apparently profound slumber, I concluded to take a little sleep myself, until daylight. This now seems unaccountable to me, for I am extremely cautious in my habits. Such a breach of military discipline would have subjected one of my men to a court-martial. I confess myself guilty of neglect of duty; I should have taken nothing for granted.
“No one can imagine my surprise and mortification when I was called and told that the Indian camp was entirely deserted, and that none were to be seen except the one asleep by our camp fire. My indifference to placing a guard over the Indian camp will probably always be a mystery to me, but it most likely saved our lives, for if we had attempted to restrain them, and you know us well enough to believe we would not have let them off without a fight; they would probably have pretty well used us up. As it was, we did not give them up without an effort. We saddled our horses and started in chase, thinking that as while with us, their women and children would retard their progress, and that we would soon overtake them. We took the young brave with us, who had slept by our fire. He knew nothing of the departure of his people, and was very much alarmed,as he expected we would at once kill him. I tried to make him useful in following their trail; he by signs, gave me to understand he did not know where they had gone, and seemed unwilling to take the trail when I pointed it out to him. He evidently meant to escape the first opportunity. I kept him near me and treated him kindly, but gave him to understand I should shoot him if he tried to leave me.
“We pursued until the trail showed that they had scattered in every direction in the brushy ravines and on the rocky side of a mountain covered with undergrowth, where we could not follow them with our animals. Chagrined and disgusted with myself for my negligence, and my inability to recover any part of my charge, and considering farther pursuit useless, we turned about and took the trail to head-quarters with our one captive.”
Major Savage took the youngster under his charge, and flattered him by his conversations and kindly treatment. The Commissioners lionized him somewhat; he was gaily clothed and ornamented, loaded with presents for his own family relations, and was given his liberty and permitted to leave camp at his leisure, and thus departed the last of the “grand caravan” of some three hundred and fifty “captives,” men, women and children, which we had collected and escorted from the mountains.
The sight of the one hundred brought to them by Captain Dill, and his report that we were coming with about three hundred and fifty more, aroused sanguine hopes in the commission that the war was over, and that their plans had been successful. “Now that theprisonershave fled,” we asked, “What will be done?”
To a military man, this lack of discipline and precaution—through which the Indians escaped—will seem unpardonable; and an officer who, like our Captain, should leave his camp unguarded, under any circumstances, would bedeemed disgracefully incompetent. In palliation of these facts, it may not occur to the rigid disciplinarian that Captain John Boling and the men under him—or the most of them, had not had the advantages of army drill and discipline. The courage of these mountain-men in times of danger was undoubted; their caution was more apt to be displayed in times of danger to others, than when they themselves were imperiled.
In this case Captain Boling was not apprehensive of danger to those under his charge. His excessive good nature and good will toward his men prompted him to allow, even to command them, to take the sleep and rest that an irregular diet, and the labor of hunting while on the march, had seemed to require. No one had a keener sense of his error than himself. The whole command sympathized with him—notwithstanding the ludicrous aspect of the affair—their finer feelings were aroused by his extreme regrets. They determined that if opportunities offered, he should have their united aid to wipe out this stigma. Major Savage was deceived by the child-like simplicity with which the Indians had been talking to him of the feast expected, and of the presents they would soon receive from the commissioners. He did not suppose it possible that they would make an attempt to escape, or such a number would not have been left with so small a guard. We had men with us who knew what discipline was, who had been trained to obey orders without hesitation. Men who had fought under Col. Jack Hays, Majors Ben McCullough and Mike Chevallia, both in Indian and Mexican warfare, and they considered themselves well posted. Even these men were mistaken in their opinions. The sudden disappearance of the Indians, was as much a surprise to them as to our officers.
With a view to solving this mystery Vow-ches-ter wassent for from his camp near by, where all the treaty tribes were congregated, and when questioned the Chief said that during the night Chow-chilla runners had been in the camp, and to him in person with their mouths filled with lies; they had probably gone to the camp of those who were coming in, and they were induced to leave. Evidently he felt assured of the fact; but until questioned, his caution, Indian-like, kept him silent. Vow-ches-ter’s sincerity and desire for peace was no longer doubted. Those who were suspicious of his friendship before were silenced, if not convinced, when he volunteered to go out and bring in such of the fugitives as he could convince of the good will of the commissioners. The young Indian had not yet left the camp, but was found relating his adventures and good fortune, and was directed to accompany Vow-ches-ter on his mission of good will. The Chief was instructed to give positive assurances of protection against hostilities, if any were threatened by the Chow-chillas. He was also instructed to dispatch runners to aid his efforts, and was told to notify all that the commissioners would not remain to be trifled with; if they wished peace they must come in at once. That if the commissioners should go away, which they soon would do on their way south, no further efforts for peace would be made. That the mountain men and soldiers of the whites were angry, and would no longer take their word for peace, but would punish them and destroy their supplies. After a few days Vow-ches-ter came back with about one hundred of the runaways; these were followed by others, until ultimately, nearly all came back except Ten-ie-ya and his people. All then in camp expressed a readiness to meet for a grand council and treaty.
The reasons given by those who returned for their flight, were that just before daylight on the morning of their departure Chow-chilla runners (as had been surmised byVow-ches-ter) came to their camp with the report that they were being taken to the plains, where they would all be killed in order to evade the promises to pay for their lands, and for revenge.
In reply to the statements that they had been treated by the whites as friends, the Chow-chillas answered sneeringly that the whites were not fools to forgive them for killing their friends and relatives, and taking their property, and said their scouts had seen a large mounted force that was gathering in the foot-hills and on the plains, who would ride over them if they ventured into the open ground of the reservation, or encampment at the plains. This caused great alarm. They expected destruction from the whites, and in the excitement caused by the Chow-chillas, threatened to kill Captain Boling and his men, and for that purpose reconnoitered the Captain’s camp. The Chow-chillas dissuaded them from the attempt, saying: “The white men always sleep on their guns, and they will alarm the white soldiers below by their firing, and bring upon you a mounted force before you could reach a place of safety.”
The young fellow that was asleep in Boling’s camp was not missed until on the march; his appearance among them gaily clothed, after being kindly treated, very much aided Vow-ches-ter in his statement of the object of the council and treaty to be held. The runaways told the commissioners that they felt very foolish, and were ashamed that they had been so readily deceived; they also expressed a wish that we would punish the Chow-chillas, for they had caused all the trouble. The reception they received soon satisfied them that they had nothing to fear. They were given food and clothing, and their good fortune was made known to other bands, and soon all of the tribes in the vicinity made treaties or sent messengers to express their willingness to do so, excepting the Chow-chillas and Yosemites. EvenTen-ie-ya was reported to have ventured into the Indian quarter, but taking a look at the gaudy colored handkerchiefs and shirts offered him in lieu of his ancient and well-worn guernsey that he habitually wore, he scoffingly refused the offers. Turning towards his valley home, he sorrowfully departed; his feelings apparently irritated by the evidences of vanity he saw in the gaudy apparel and weak contentment of those he was leaving behind him. Major Savage, who it was supposed would be the Indian agent at the end of the war, was absent at the time of Ten-ie-ya’s visit, but “the farmer” showed the old chief all proper respect, and had endeavored to induce him to await the Major’s return, but failed.
Major Savage, though still in command of the battalion, now devoted most of his time to the commissioners; and the energy with which our campaigns had opened, seemed to be somewhat abating. The business connected with the treaties was transacted principally through his interpretation, though at times other interpreters were employed. The mission interpreters only translated the communications made in the Indian dialects into Spanish; these were then rendered into English by Spanish interpreters employed by the commission.
A pretty strong detail of men was now placed on duty at head-quarters on the Fresno, principally drawn from Captain Dill’s Company. Adjutant Lewis had really no duties in the field, nor had he any taste or admiration for the snowy mountains—on foot. His reports were written up at head-quarters, as occasion required, and often long after the events had transpired to which they related. I was an amused observer upon one occasion, of Major Savage’s method of making out anofficialreport, Adjutant Lewis virtually acting only as an amanuensis.
Campaign against the Chow-chillas—The Favorite Hunting Ground—A Deer Hunt and a BearChase—An Accident and an Alarm—A Torch-light Pow-wow—Indians Discovered—Captain Boling’s Speech—Crossing of the San Joaquin—A Line of Battle, its Disappearance—Capture of Indian Village—Jose Rey’s Funeral-pyre—Following the Trail—A Dilemma—Sentiment and Applause—Returning to Camp—Narrow Escape of Captain Boling.
Campaign against the Chow-chillas—The Favorite Hunting Ground—A Deer Hunt and a BearChase—An Accident and an Alarm—A Torch-light Pow-wow—Indians Discovered—Captain Boling’s Speech—Crossing of the San Joaquin—A Line of Battle, its Disappearance—Capture of Indian Village—Jose Rey’s Funeral-pyre—Following the Trail—A Dilemma—Sentiment and Applause—Returning to Camp—Narrow Escape of Captain Boling.
Major Savage now advised a vigorous campaign against the Chow-chillas. The stampeding of our captives was one of the incentives for this movement; or at least, it was for this reason that Captain Boling and his company most zealously advocated prompt action. The commissioners approved of the plan, and decided that as the meddlesome interference of these Indians prevented other bands from coming in, it was necessary, if a peace policy was to be maintained with other tribes, that this one be made to feel the power they were opposing; and that an expedition of sufficient strength to subdue them, should be ordered immediately to commence operations against them. Accordingly, a force composed of B. and C. companies, Boling’s and Dill’s, numbering about one hundred men, under command of Major Savage, started for the San Joaquin River. The route selected was by way of “Coarse Gold Gulch,” to the head waters of the Fresno, and thence to the North Fork of the San Joaquin.
The object in taking this circuitous route, was to sweep the territory of any scattered bauds that might infest it.We made our first camp on the waters of “Coarse Gold Gulch,” in order to allow the scouts time to explore in advance of the command. No incident occurred here to claim especial notice, but in the morning, while passing them, I made a hasty examination of one of the “Figured Rocks” to the left of the trail.
I saw but little of interest, for at the time, I doubted the antiquity of the figures. Subsequently, in conversation with Major Savage he said that the figures had probably been traced by ancient Indians, as the present tribes had no knowledge of the representations. I afterwards asked Sandino and other Mission Indians concerning them, but none could give me any information. The scouts sent out were instructed to rendezvous near a double fall on the north fork of the San Joaquin in a little valley through which the trail led connecting with that of the north fork, as grass would there be found abundant.
Major Savage was familiar with most of the permanent trails in this region, as he had traversed it in his former prospecting tours. As we entered the valley selected for our camping place, a flock of sand-hill cranes rose from it with their usual persistent yells; and from this incident, their name was affixed to the valley, and is the name by which it is now known.
The scouts, who were watching on the trail below, soon discovered and joined us. “It is a little early for camping,” the Major said; “but at this season, good grass can only be found in the mountains in certain localities. Here there is an abundance, and soap root enough to wash a regiment.”
We fixed our camp on the West side of the little valley, about half a mile from the double falls. These falls had nothing peculiarly attractive, except as a designated point for a rendezvous.
The stream above the falls was narrow and very rapid, but below, it ran placidly for some distance through rich meadow land. The singularity of the fall was in its being double; the upper one only three or four feet, and the lower one, which was but a step below, about ten or twelve feet. In my examination of the locality, I was impressed with the convenience with which such a water-power could be utilized for mechanical purposes, if the supply of water would but prove a permanent one.
From this camp, new scouts were sent out in search of Indians and their trails; while a few of us had permission to hunt within a mile of camp. While picketing our animals, I observed the flock of sand-hill cranes again settling down some way above us, and started with Wm. Hays to get a shot at them. We were not successful in getting within range; having been so recently alarmed, they were suspiciously on the look out, and scenting our approach, they left the valley. Turning to the eastward, we were about entering a small ravine leading to the wooded ridge on the Northwest side of the Fork, when we discovered two deer ascending the slope, and with evident intention of passing through the depression in the ridge before us.
They were lookingbackon their trail, assurance enough that we had not been seen. We hurriedly crept up the ravine to head them off, and waited for their approach. Hays became nervous, and as he caught a glimpse of the leader, he hastily said, “Here they come—both of them—I’ll take the buck!” Assenting to his arrangement, we both fired as they rose in full view. The doe fell almost in her tracks. The buck made a bound or two up the ridge and disappeared. While loading our rifles Hays exclaimed, as if in disgust, “A miss, by jingoes! that’s a fact.” I replied, “not so, old fellow, you hit him hard; he switched his tail desperately; you will see him again.” We found himdead in the head of the next ravine, but a few rods off. Hanging up our game to secure it until our return with horses, we started along the slope of the ridge toward camp. Hays was in advance, stopping suddenly, he pointed to some immense tracks of grizzlies, which in the soft, yielding soil appeared like the foot prints of huge elephants, and then hastily examining his rifle and putting a loose ball in his mouth (we had no fixed ammunition in those days, except the old paper cartridges), started on the tracks. At first I was amused at his excited, silent preparations and rapid step, and passively accompanied him. When we had reached a dense under-growth, into which the trail led, and which he was about to enter, I halted and said: “I have followed this trail as far as I design to go. Hays, it is madness for us to follow grizzlies into such a place as that.” Hays turned, came back, and said in an excited manner, “I didn’t suppose you would show the white feather with a good rifle in your hands; Chandler gives you a different character. You don’t mean to say you are afraid to go in there with me; we’ll get one or two, sure.”
I was at first inclined to be angry, but replied, “Hays, I am much obliged to you for the good opinion you have had of me, but I know what grizzlies are.I am afraid of grizzlies unless I have every advantage of them; and don’t think it would be any proof of courage to follow them in there.” Hays reached out his hand as he said: “If that is your corner stake, we will go back to camp.” We shook hands, and that question was settled between us. Afterwards Hays told of his experience among Polar bears, and I rehearsed some of mine among cinnamon and grizzly bears, and he replied that after all he thought “we had acted wisely in letting the latter remain undisturbed. When in the brush they seemed to know their advantage, and were more likely to attack, whereas at other times, they wouldget out of your way, if they could.” I replied by asking: “Since you know their nature so well, why did you want to follow them into the brush?” He retorted, “Simply because I was excited and reckless, like many another man.”
Taking the back trail, we soon reached camp, and with our horses brought in the game before dark. While entering camp, several of our men rushed by with their rifles. Looking back across the open valley on our own trail, I saw a man running toward us as if his life depended on his speed. His long hair was fairly streaming behind as he rushed breathless into camp, without hat, shoes or gun. When first seen, the “boys” supposed the Chow-chillas were after him, but no pursuers appeared in sight. As soon as he was able to talk, he reported that he had left the squad of hunters he had gone out with, and was moving along the edge of a thicket on his way to camp, when he struck the trail of three grizzlies. Having no desire to encounter them, he left their trail, but suddenly came upon them while endeavoring to get out of the brush.
Before he could raise his rifle, they rushed toward him. He threw his hat at the one nearest, and started off at a lively gait. Glancing back, he saw two of them quarreling over his old hat; the other was so close that he dare not shoot, but dropped his gun and ran for life.
Fortunately, one of his shoes came off, and the bear stopped to examine and tear it in pieces, and here no doubt discontinued the chase, as he was not seen afterwards, though momentarily expected by the hunter in his flight to camp.
The hero of this adventure was a Texan, that was regarded by those who knew him best as a brave man, but upon this occasion he was without side arms, and, as he said, “was taken at a disadvantage.” The Major joked him a little upon hiscontinuedspeed, but “Texas Joe” took it in good part, and replied that the Major, “or anyotherblank fool,would have run just as he did.” A few of us went back with Joe, and found his rifle unharmed. The tracks of his pursuers were distinctly visible, but no one evinced any desire to follow them up.
We considered his escape a most remarkable one.
A little after dark all the scouts came in, and reported that no Indians had been seen, nor very fresh signs discovered, but that a few tracks were observed upon the San Joaquin trail.
The news was not encouraging, and some were a little despondent, but as usual, a hearty supper and the social pipe restored the younger men to their thoughtless gayety. My recollections bring to mind many pleasant hours around the camp-fires of the “Mariposa Battalion.” Many of the members of that organization were men of more than ordinary culture and general intelligence; but they had been led out from civilization into the golden tide, and had acquired a reckless air and carriage, peculiar to a free life in the mountains of California.
The beauty of the little valley in which we were camped had so attracted my attention, that while seated by the camp-fire in the evening, enjoying my meal, I spoke of it in the general conversation, and found that others had discovered a “claim” for a future rancho, if the subjection of the Indians should make it desirable. The scouts mentioned the fact of there being an abundance of game as far as they had been, but that of course they dare not shoot, lest the Indians might be alarmed. These men were provided with venison by Hays and myself, while many a squirrel, jack rabbit, quail and pigeon was spitted and roasted by other less fortunate hunters. Our deer were divided among immediate friends and associates, and Captain Boling slyly remarked that “the Major’s appetite is about as good as an Indian’s.” Major Savage seemed to enjoy the conversationin praise of this region, and in reply to the assertion that this was the best hunting ground we had yet seen, said: “Where you find game plenty, you will find Indians not far off. This belt of country beats the region of the Yosemite or the Poho-no Meadows for game, if the Indians tell the truth; and with the exception of the Kern River country, it is the best south of the Tuolumne River. It abounds in grizzlies and cinnamon bears, and there are some black bears. Deer are very plenty, and a good variety of small game—such as crane, grouse, quail, pigeons, road-runners, squirrels and rabbits—besides, in their season, water fowl. This territory of the Chow-chillas has plenty of black oak acorns (their favorite acorn), and besides this, there are plenty of other supplies of bulbous roots, tubers, grasses and clover. In a word, there is everything here for the game animals and birds, as well as for the Indians.”
I now thought I had a turn on the Major, for he was quite enthusiastic, and I said: “Major, you have made out another Indian Paradise; I thought you a skeptic.” With a smile as if in remembrance of our conversation in the Yosemite, he replied: “Doc, I don’t believe these Chow-chilla devils will leave here without a fight, for they seem to be concentrating; but we are going to drive them out with a ‘flaming brand.’ I think we shall find some of them to-morrow, if we expect good luck.” Turning to Captain Boling he continued, “Captain, we must make an early move in the morning; and to-morrow we must be careful not to flush our game before we get within rifle-shot. You had better caution the guards to be vigilant, for we may have a visit from their scouts to-night, if only to stampede our horses.”
Taking this as a hint that it was time to turn in, I rolled myself in my blankets. My sleep was not delayed by any thoughts of danger to the camp,—though I would haveadmitted the danger of loss of animals—but I was awakened by a stir in camp, and from hearing the Major called.
Sandino, the Mission Indian interpreter, had just come in from head-quarters, guiding an escort that had been sent for the Major. The Sergeant in command handed a letter to Savage, who, after reading it at the camp fire, remarked to Captain Boling, “the commissioners have sent for me to come back to head-quarters; we will talk over matters in the morning, after we have had our sleep.” He was snoring before I slept again.
In the morning Major Savage stated that he had been sent for by the Commissioners to aid in treating with a delegation of Kah-we-ah Indians sent in by Capt. Kuykendall, and regretted to leave us just at that time, when we were in the vicinity of the game we were after. That we would now be under the command of Captain Boling, etc. The Major made us a nice little speech. It was short, and was the only one he ever made to us. He then drew an outline map of the country, and explained to Captain Boling the course and plans he had adopted, but which were to be varied as the judgment of the Captain should deem to his advantage. He repeatedly enjoined the Captain to guard against surprise, by keeping scouts in advance and upon flank.
He then said he should leave Sandino with us, and told me that Spencer and myself would be expected to act as interpreters, otherwise Captain Boling could not make Sandino available as a guide or interpreter, as he cannot speak a word of English.
“As surgeon to the expedition, I will see that you are paid extra. The endurance of those appointed, has been tried and found wanting; therefore I preferred to leave them behind.” The Major then left us for head-quarters, which he would reach before night.
Captain Boling crossed the North Fork below the falls, but after a few horses had passed over the trail, the bottom land became almost impassable. As I had noticed an old trail that crossed just above the falls, I shouted to the rear guard to follow me, and started for the upper crossing, which I reached some little distance in advance. Spurring my mule I dashed through the stream. As she scrambled up the green sod of the slippery shore I was just opening my mouth for a triumphant whoop, when the sod from the overhanging bank gave way under the hind feet of the mule, and, before she could recover, we slipped backwards into the stream, and were being swept down over the falls. Comprehending the imminent peril, I slipped from my saddle with the coil of my “riata” clasped in hand (fortunately I had acquired the habit of leaving the rope upon the mule’s neck), and, by an effort, I was able to reach the shore with barely length of rope enough to take one turn around a sappling and then one or two turns around the rope, and by this means I was able to arrest the mule in her progress, with her hind legs projecting over the falls, where she remained, her head held out of the water by the rope. I held her in this position until my comrades came up and relieved me, and the mule from her most pitiable position. This was done by attaching another rope, by means of which it was drawn up the stream to the shore, where she soon recovered her feet and was again ready for service. Not so my medicines and surgical instruments, which were attached to the saddle.
While Captain Boling was closing up his scattered command, I took the opportunity to examine my damaged stores and wring out my blankets. Being thus engaged, and out of sight of the main column, they moved on without us. I hastily dried my instruments, and seeing that my rifle had also suffered, I hastily discharged and reloaded it. Wepassed over the stream below the falls, and were galloping to overtake the command, when I discovered a detachment with Captain Boling at the head, riding rapidly up the trail toward us. As we met, the Captain returned my salutation with “Hallo, Doc., what the devil is the matter?” I explained the cause of our delay and the reason for the discharge of my rifle, when the Captain said: “We heard the report of your rifle, and I thought you were about to have a quilting party of your own, for I knew you would not waste lead foolishly, so came back to have a hand in the game.” I apologized for firing without orders and for causing anxiety; but said, that to be frank, I had thought that my rifle being so wet, would only “squib.” He good humoredly replied, “I am glad I found nothing worse, for you have had a narrow escape, and I think we had now better keep closed up.”
We soon overtook the command which was following the main trail to the upper San Joaquin. Crossing the affluent tributaries of the North Fork, we finally reached a branch now known as the Little San Joaquin. Here we again camped for the third time since leaving head-quarters. Lieutenant Chandler and a few of our most experienced scouts were detailed and sent out on duty. Captain Boling with a small guard accompanied Chandler for some distance out on the trail, and after exploring the vicinity of the camp and taking a look at “Battle Mountain” to the westward of us, returned without having discovered any fresher signs than had been seen by the scouts. That night the camp-guard was strengthened and relieved every hour, that there might be no relaxation of vigilance. A little before daybreak, Lieutenant Chandler and his scouts came in, and reported that they had discovered a number of camp fires, and a big pow-wow, on the main San Joaquin river. Satisfied that Indians were there assembled in force, and thatthey were probably holding a war-dance, they returned at once to report their discovery.
The camp was quietly aroused, and after a hasty breakfast in the early dawn, we mounted. Before giving the order to march, Captain Boling thought it advisable to give us a few words of caution and general orders in case we should suddenly meet the enemy and engage in battle. Thinking it would be more impressive if delivered in a formal manner, he commenced: “Fellow citizens!” (a pause,) “fellow soldiers!” (a longer pause,) “comrades,” tremulously; but instantly recovering himself, promptly said: “Inconclusion, all I have to say, boys, is, that I hope I shall fight better than I speak.” The Captain joined with his “fellow citizens” in the roar of laughter, amidst which he gave the order “march,” and we started for the San Joaquin at a brisk trot.
No better or braver man rode with our battalion. His popularity was an appreciation of his true merit. On this occasion he was conscious of the responsibility of his position, and, for a moment his modesty overcame him. Although hisspeechlacked the ready flow of language, it eloquently expressed to his men the feelings of their Captain, and we comprehended what he designed to say.11A short ride brought us in sight of the main river. As we drew near to it a party of about one hundred Indians were discovered drawn up as if to give us battle, but we soon found their line had been established on theoppositeside of the stream! while the swelling torrent between us seemed impassable. Our scouts discovered a bark rope stretched across the river, just above the mouth of the South Fork, which had been quite recently used. Their scouts had undoubtedlydiscovered our rapid approach, and in their haste to report the fact, had neglected to remove this rope, by means of which, the crossing was made. The Indians of Northern climes are equally expert in crossing streams. In winter, they sprinkle sand upon the smooth ice, in order to cross their unshod ponies. The discovery of the rope being reported to Captain Boling, he proposed to utilize it by establishing a temporary ferry of logs. On examination, the rope was found to be too slender to be of practical use, but was employed to convey across a stronger one, made from our picket ropes or “riatas,” tied together and twisted.
Two of our best swimmers crossed the river above the narrows, and pulled our rope across by means of the bark one. To protect the men on the opposite side, Captain Middleton, Joel H. Brooks, John Kenzie and a few other expert riflemen, stood guard over them. A float was made of dry logs while the rope was being placed in position, and this was attached to the one across the stream by means of a rude pulley made from the crotch of a convenient sapling. By this rude contrivance, we crossed to and fro without accident. The horses and baggage were left on the right bank in charge of a small but select camp guard. As we commenced the ascent of the steep acclivity to the table above, where we had seen the Indians apparently awaiting our approach, great care was taken to keep open order. We momentarily expected to receive the fire of the enemy. The hill-side was densely covered with brush, and we cautiously threaded our march up through it, until we emerged into the open ground at the crest of the hill. Here, not an Indian was in sight to welcome or threaten our arrival. They had probably fled as soon as they witnessed our crossing. Captain Boling felt disappointed; but immediately sent out an advance skirmish line, while we moved in closer order upon the village in sight, which we afterwardsfound to be that of Jose Rey. Arrived there, we found it forsaken. This village was beautifully situated upon an elevated table lying between the South Fork and the main river. It overlooked the country on all sides except the rear, which could have only been approached through the rugged cañons of the forks. It would therefore have been impossible for us to surprise it. We found that the Indians had left nothing of value but the stores of acorns near by. Captain Boling’s countenance expressed his feelings, with regard to our lack of success. He ordered the lodges to be destroyed with all the supplies that could be discovered.
While entering the village, we had observed upon a little knoll, the remnant of what had been a large fire; a bed of live coals and burning brands of manzanita-wood still remained. The ground about it indicated that there had been a large gathering for a burial-dance and feast, and for other rites due the departed; and therefore, I surmised that there had been a funeral ceremony to honor the remains of some distinguished member of the tribe. I had the curiosity to examine the heap and found that I was correct. On raking open the ashes of the funeral-pyre, the calcined bones were exposed, along with trinkets and articles of various kinds, such as arrow-heads of different shapes and sizes, for the chase and for warfare; a knife-blade, a metal looking-glass frame, beads and other articles melted into a mass. From these indications—having a knowledge of Indian customs—I inferred that the deceased was probably a person of wealth and distinction in Indian society. Calling Sandino to the spot, I pointed out to him my discoveries. Devoutly crossing himself, he looked at the mass I had raked from the ashes, and exclaimed: “Jose Rey, ah! he is dead!” I asked how he knew that it was the body of Jose Rey that had been burned. He said: (picking up the knife-blade)“This was the knife of Jose Rey.” He then told me “that a chief’s property was known to all of his people and to many other tribes. That many had been here to take part in the funeral ceremonies, and only a great chief would have so many come to do honor to his remains; besides we have known for a long time that he would die.” I reported this statement to Captain Boling, who thought it was correct. It was afterwards confirmed by some of the followers of the dead chief.
Sandino was or had been a Mission Indian, and prided himself on being a good Catholic. I asked him why the Indians burnt the bodies of their dead. He replied after devoutly crossing himself, for no Indian will willingly speak of their dead. “The Gentiles (meaning the wild Indians) burn the bodies to liberate the spirit from it.” After again crossing himself, “We being Christians by the favor of God, are not compelled to do this duty to our dead. They enter into the spirit-world through the virtue of the blood of Christ;” then with his face gleaming with religious fervor, he said, “Oh! is not this a great blessing—no labor, no pain, and where all have plenty.” On a more intimate acquaintance with Sandino, I found that he had an implicit belief in all the superstitions of his race, but that the saving grace of the blood of Christ was simply superior to their charms and incantations.
My experience among other Indians, particularly the Sioux, Chippewa, and other tribes that have long had missionaries among them, leads me to the conclusion that Sandino’s views of Christianity will not be found to differ materially from those of many othersconverted. I afterwards had a much more satisfactory conversation with “Russio,” who verified Sandino’s statement concerning their belief, and object in burning their dead. This Chief also gave me in detail some of their traditions and mythologies, which I shall reserve for future description.
Our scouts reported that the fresh trails followed by them led to the main trail up the cañon of the river. Everything having been set on fire that would burn, we followed in pursuit toward the “High Sierras.” Before starting the scouts that had gone up the South Fork cañon were called in, and we lightened our haversacks by taking a hasty but hearty lunch. We followed the trail continuously up, passed a rocky, precipitous point, that had terminated in a ridge at the rear of the village, and pursuing it rapidly for several miles, we suddenly found that the traces we had been following disappeared. We came to a halt, and retracing our steps, soon found that they had left the trail at some bare rocks, but it was impossible to trace them farther in any direction. Sandino expressed the opinion that the Indians had crossed the river; and pointing across the foaming rapids said: “They have gone there!” He was denounced by the scouts for this assertion, and they swore that “an otter would drown if he attempted to swim in such a place.” Captain Boling asked: “Is he a coward afraid of an ambush, or is he trying to shield his people by discouraging our advance?” After Spencer and myself had talked with him a few moments, we both expressed our faith in his loyalty, and told the Captain that we thought he was sincere in the opinion expressed, that the Indians had crossed to the other side. I stated that I did not think it impossible for them to do so, as they were all most excellent swimmers. That I had seen the Yumas of the Colorado river dive, time after time, and bring up fish caught with their bare hands, and perform other seemingly impossible feats. I would not, therefore, denounce Sandino without some proof of treachery. Captain Boling was not convinced, however, by my statements. It was decided that the Chow-chil-las had not crossed the river, and that we should probably find their trail further on.
With scouts in advance, we resumed our march up the cañon. The trail was rough, and, in places, quite precipitous; but we followed on until reaching a point in the cañon where we should expect to find “signs,” for there was no choice of routes, but this only trail up the cañon had not been used by any one; and the advance were found awaiting the Captain’s arrival at the gorge. The Captain was puzzled, and ordered a halt. A council was held, about as satisfactory as the other had been, but all agreed in the conclusion that the Indians had beaten us in wood craft, and had artfully thrown us from their trail; though their signal fires were still to be seen at intervals on the high rocky points of the river. This was a common mode of communication among them. By a peculiar arrangement of these fires during the night, and by the smoke from them during the day, they are able to telegraph a system of secret correspondence to those on the look out. An arrow, shot into the body of a tree at a camp ground, or along a trail; or the conspicuous arrangement of a bent bush or twig, often shows the direction to be traveled. A bunch of grass, tied to a stick and left at the fork of a stream or trail, or at a deserted camp, performed the same service. Upon the treeless deserts or plains, a mark upon the ground, by camp or trail, gave the required information; thus proving that these people possess considerable intelligent forethought.
After looking at the signal fires for some time, Captain Boling said: “Gentlemen, there is one thing I can beat these fellows at, and that is in building fires. We will go back to the crossing, and from there commence a new campaign. We will build fires all over the mountains, so that these Indians will no longer recognize their own signals. We will make ours large enough to burn all the acorns and other provender we can find. In a word, we are forced into a mode of warfare unsuited to my taste or manhood, butthis campaign has convinced me of the utter folly of attempting to subdue them unless we destroy their supplies of all kinds. Gentlemen, you can take my word for it, they do not intend to fight us, or they would have tried to stop us at the crossing, where they had every advantage.”
There is no point in the mountains more easy to defend than their village. It was located most admirably. If they had the fight in them, that was claimed by Major Savage and the Indians at head-quarters, we could never have crossed the river or approached their village. Their courage must have died with Jose Rey. His courage must have been supposed to be that of the tribe. They have become demoralized, being left without the energy of the chief. Their warlike nature is a humbug. Talk about these Indians defeating and driving back the Spanish Californians, after raiding their ranches, as has been told! If they did, they must have driven back bigger cowards than themselves, who have run away without even leaving a trail by which they can be followed. I don’t believe it.” The Captain delivered this serio-comic discourse while seated on a rock, with most inimitable drollery; and at my suggestion that they might perhaps yet show themselves, he replied rather impatiently: “Nonsense, they will not exhibit themselves to-day!” and with this convincing remark, he ordered our return.
As we filed away from the narrow gorge, those left in rear reported “Indians!” Instinctively turning, we discovered on theoppositeside of the river, a half dozen or more, not encumbered with any kind of garment. A halt was called, and Chandler and a number of others instantly raised their rifles for a shot. They were within range, for the cañon was here quite narrow, but the Captain promptly said: “No firing, men! I am anxious for success, but would rather go back without a captive, than have one of thoseIndians killed, unless,” he added after a moment’s pause, “they are fools enough to shoot at us.” Just at the conclusion of this order, and as if in burlesque applause of the sentiment expressed by the Captain, the savages commenced slapping their naked swarthy bodies in a derisive manner.
The laugh of our men was parried by the Captain, and although annoyed by this unexpected demonstration, he laughingly remarked that he had never before been sopeculiarlyapplauded for anything he had ever said. The absurdity of the scene restored us all to a better humor. Again the order was given to march, and we resumed our course down the cañon, with the renewed demonstrations of the Indians. The orders of the Captain alone prevented a returnsalute, which would have promptly checked their offensive demonstrations.
At the precipice, which we had so guardedly passed on our way up the cañon, we came near losing our Captain. In passing this locality he made a mis-step, and slipped towards the yawning abyss at the foot of the cliff; but for a small pine that had been “moored in the rifted rock,” no earthly power could have saved him from being dashed to the bottom. He fortunately escaped with some severe bruises, a lacerated elbow and a sprained wrist. This accident and our tired and disappointed condition, gave a more serious appearance to our line, and a more sombre tone to our conversations than was usual. We reached camp in a condition, however, to appreciate the supper prepared by our guard.