CHAPTER VIII.

A Camp Discussion—War or Police Clubs—Jack Regrets a Lost Opportunity—Boling’s Soothing Syrup—A Scribe Criticises and Apologises—Indian War Material and its Manufacture—The Fire-stick and its Sacred Uses—Arrival at Head-quarters.

It was not until after we had partaken of a hearty supper and produced our pipes, that the lively hum of conversation and the occasional careless laughter indicated the elastic temperament of some of the hardy, light-hearted, if not light-headed, “boys,” while in camp. The guard was duly detailed, and the signal given to turn in, but not authoritatively; and tired as we were, many of us sat quite late around the camp-fires on that evening. The excitements and disappointments of our recent excursion did not prove to be promoters of sleep; some of us were too tired to sleep until we had somewhat rested from our unusual fatigue. The events of the day—thetrue method of subduing Indians, and the probable results of the plans proposed by Captain Boling for future operations in this vicinity, were the general topics of conversation among the different groups. This general inclination to discuss the “peace policy” of the commissioners and the plans of our officers, did not arise from anything like a mutinous disposition, nor from any motives having in view the least opposition to any of the measures connected with the campaign in which we were then engaged.

We had expected that this tribe would resist our invasion of their territory and show fight. In this we had been disappointed. The self-confident and experienced mountain men, and the ex-rangers from the Texan plains, felt annoyed that these Indians had escaped when almost within range of our rifles. Our feelings—as a military organization—were irritated by the successful manner in which they had eluded our pursuit, and thrown us from their trail.We had been outwitted by these ignorant Indians; but as individuals, no one seemed inclined to acknowledge it; our lack of success was attributed to the restraints imposed on the free movements of our organization by orders of the commissioners. Although none designed to censure our Captain for his failure, the free speech intimations, that we might have been successful, if Major Savage had remained to aid us with his knowledge, was not soothing to the Captain’s already wounded pride. The popularity of Captain Boling was not affected by our camp-fire discussion. Had a charge, or intimation even, been made by any one of incapacity or neglect of duty in our free expressions, the personal safety of the individual would have been immediately endangered; although no excess of modesty was observed in expressing opinions. Lieut. Chandler was at our own fire, and our officers talked over the solution of the enigma in a quiet conversational tone. The usual cheerful countenance of the Captain had a more serious expression. His attention was as much attracted to the groups around us, as to the remarks of Lt. Chandler.

The energetic Lieutenant was our most rigid disciplinarian when on duty. His fearless impetuosity in the execution of all his duties, made him a favorite with the more reckless spirits; his blunt and earnest manner excited their admiration; for, though possessed of a sublime egotism, he was entirely free from arrogance. Instead of his usual cheerfuland agreeable conversation, he was almost morosely taciturn; he refilled his capacious mouth with choice Virginia, and settled back against the wood-pile. After listening to us for a while, he said: “I am heartily sick of this Quaker-style of subduing Indians. So far,—since our muster-in—we have had plenty of hard work and rough experience, with no honor or profit attending it all. We might as well be armed with clubs like any other police.” There was none in our group disposed to dispute the assertion of Chandler. As a body, we were anxiously desirous of bringing the Indian troubles to a close as soon as it could be practically accomplished. Many of us had suffered pecuniarily from the depredations of these Mountain tribes, and had volunteered to aid in subduing them, that we might be able to resume our mining operations in peace. Many of us had left our own profitable private business to engage in these campaigns for the public good, expecting that a vigorous prosecution of the war would soon bring it to a close. I will here say that some sensational newspaper correspondents took it upon themselves to condemn this effort made by the settlers to control these mountain tribes, which had become so dangerous; charging the settlers with having excited a war, and to have involved the government in an unneccessary expense, for the purpose of reaping pecuniary benefits; and that our battalion had been organized to afford occupation to adventurous idlers, for the pay afforded. Knowing the ignorance that obtains in regard to real Indian character, and the mistaken philanthropy that would excuse and probably even protect and lionize murderers, because they wereIndians; but little attention was at first paid to these falsely slanderous articles, until one was published, so personally offensive, and with such a false basis of statement, that Captain Boling felt it his duty to call for the name of its author. His name was given bythe editor of the paper on a formal demand being made. The Captain thenintimatedthrough a friend, that a public retraction of the article was desirable. In due time, the Captain received a very satisfactory apology, and a slip of a published retraction of the offensive correspondence. The investigation developed the fact that the writer—who was an Eastern philanthropist—had been played upon by certain parties in Stockton, who had failed to get the contract to supply the battalion.

At an adjoining fire a long-haired Texan was ventilating his professed experience in the management of Indians “down thar.” Observing that Captain Boling was within hearing of his criticism, he turned, and without any intentional disrespect, said: “Cap., you orter a let me plunk it to one o’ them red skins up in the cañon thar. I’d a bin good for one, sure; and if I’d a had my way o’ treatin’ with Injuns, Cap., I reckon I’d a made a few o’ them squawk by this time.”

Captain Boling was suffering from his bruises and sprained wrist, and he evidently was not pleased to hear these liberal criticisms, but knowing the element by which he was surrounded, he did not forget the policy of conciliating it in order to prevent any feelings of discontent from arising so soon after having assumed full command. He therefore quickly replied: “I have no especial regard for these Chow-chillas; you are probably aware of that, Jack; but the orders and instructions of the Commissioners will have to be disregarded if we shoot them down at sight. It would have been almost like deliberate murder to have killed those naked Indians to-day, because, Jack, you knowjustwhat you can do with that rifle of yours. If you had fired you knew you was sure to kill; but the Indians did not know the danger there was in coming inside your range. It was lucky for the cowards that you did not shoot.” This allusionto the Texan’s skill with his rifle disposed of the subject as far as he was concerned, for he “turned in,” while a broad grin showed his satisfaction as he replied, “I reckon you’re about on the right trail now, Cap,” and disappeared under his blanket.

Captain Boling sat for some time apparently watching the blazing logs before him. He took no part in the discussion of Indian affairs, which continued to be the engrossing subject among the wakeful ones, whose numbers gradually diminished until Spencer and one or two others beside myself only remained at our fire. The Captain then said: “I do not despair of success in causing this tribe to make peace, although I cannot see any very flattering prospects of our being able to corral them, or force an immediate surrender. They do not seem inclined to fight us, and we cannot follow them among the rocks in those almost impassable cañons with any probability of taking them. Bare-footed they rapidly pass without danger over slippery rocks that we, leather-shod, can only pass at the peril of our lives. My mishap of to-day is but a single illustration of many that would follow were we to attempt to chase them along the dizzy heights they pass over. Being lightly clad, or not at all, they swim the river to and fro at will, and thus render futile any attempt to pursue them up the river, unless we divide the force and beat up on both sides at the same time. I have thought this matter over, and have reached the conclusion that, unless some lucky accident throws them into our hands, I see but one course to pursue, and that is to destroy their camps and supplies, and then return to head-quarters.”

After having had the bandages arranged on his swollen arm he bade us good night, and sought such repose as his bruised limbs and disappointed ambition would permit. Having ended our discussions, we came to the sage conclusionthat Captain Boling was in command, and duty required our obedience to his orders. Satisfied with this decision, we readily dropped off to sleep.

The next morning the usual jocular hilarity seemed to prevail in camp. A refreshing slumber had seemingly given renewed vigor to the tired explorers of the rough trail up the cañon. The camp guard assigned to duty at “our ferry” were on duty during the night, so that the breakfast call was promptly responded to with appetites unimpaired. Captain Boling’s arm was dressed and found to be somewhat improved in appearance, though very sore. He would not consent to remain in camp, and ordered his horse to be saddled after breakfast. Before the morning sun had risen we were in our saddles, endeavoring to explore the region north of the San Joaquin. Small detachments were detailed from both companies to explore, on foot, up the South Fork, and the territory adjacent. Upon the return of this command, their report showed that quite a large number of Indians had passed over that stream, though none were seen. A considerable supply of acorns was found and destroyed by this expedition; but after they left the oak table-land, near the fork, they reported the country to the east to be about as forbidding as that on the main river. Captain Boling detailed a few footmen to scatter over the country on the north side, to burn anycachésthey might find, while we on horseback swept farther north, towards the Black Ridge. We found the soil soft and yielding, and in places it was with difficulty that our weak, grass-fed animals could pass over the water-soaked land, even after we had dismounted. I thought this boggy ground, hard enough later in the season, another obstacle to a successful pursuit, and so expressed myself to the Captain. I told him that in ’49 I stayed over night with Mr. Livermore of the Livermore Pass, and that now I fully comprehended why he thought the mountaintribes could not be entirely subdued, because, as he said, “they will not fight except sure of victory, and cannot be caught.”

Mr. Livermore said he had followed up several raiding parties of Indians who were driving off stock they had stolen from the Ranchos, but only upon one occasion did they make a bold stand, when his party was driven back, overcome by numbers. Captain Boling was silent for some time, and then said: “Perhaps after all I have done these Indians injustice in calling them cowards; probably they feel that they are not called upon to fight and lose any of their braves, when by strategy they can foil and elude us. Human nature is about alike in war as in other things; it is governed by what it conceives to be its interest.”

CACHES OR INDIAN ACORN STOREHOUSES.

There were in the country we passed over, some beautiful mountain meadows and most luxuriant forests, and some of the sloping table lands looked like the ornamental parks of an extensive domain. These oak-clad tables and ridges, were the harvest fields of the San Joaquin Indians, and in their vicinity we found an occasional group of deserted huts. These, with their adjacent supplies of acorns, were at once given to the flames. The acorns found and destroyed by the scouting parties, were variously estimated at from eight hundred to one thousandbushels; beside the supply of Piñon pine-nuts and other supplies hoarded for future use. The pine-nuts were not all destroyed by fire; most of them were confiscated, and served as a dessert to many a roast.

From the total amount of acorns estimated to have been destroyed, their supplies were comparatively small, or the number of Indians on the San Joaquin had been, as in other localities, vastly overrated. Our search was thoroughly made—the explorations from day to day, extending from our camps over the whole country to an altitude above the growth of the oaks. During these expeditions, not an Indian was seen after those noticed on the upper San Joaquin; but fresh signs were often discovered and followed, only to be traced to the rocky cañons above where, like deceptive “ignes fatui,” they disappeared.

Being allowed the largest liberty as surgeon to the expedition, I had ample time to examine the various things found in their camps, and obtain from Sandino all the information I could concerning them. The stone arrow-heads and their manufacture, especially interested me. I found considerable quantities of the crude material from which they were made, with many other articles brought from other localities, such as resin, feathers, skins, pumice-stone, salt, etc., used in the manufacture of their implements of war, and for the chase as well as for domestic uses.

At this time but few guns were in the possession of these mountain tribes. Their chief weapons of war and for the chase were bows and arrows. With these they were very expert at short range, and to make their weapons effective were disposed to lay in ambush in war, and upon the trails of their game. Their bows were made from a species of yew peculiar to the West, from cedar and from a spinated evergreen tree, rare in Southern California, which, for want of scientific classification, I gave the name of “nutmegpine.” It bears a nut resembling in general appearance that agreeable spice, while the covering or pulpy shell looks very much like mace. The nut is, however, strongly impregnated with resin. The leaves are long, hard, and so sharp that the points will pierce the flesh like sharp steel. The wood is stronger and more elastic than either the yew, cedar or fir. It is susceptible of a fine polish. I made a discovery of a small cluster of this species of tree at the foot of the cascades in the cañon, two miles below the Yosemite valley, while engaged in a survey of that locality.12

The shafts of their arrows are made of reeds, and from different species of wood, but the choicest are made of what is called Indian arrow-wood (Le Hamite). This wood is only found in dark ravines and deep rocky cañons in the mountains, as it seems to require dampness and shade. Its scarcity makes the young shoots of a proper growth a very valuable article of barter between the mountain tribes and those of the valleys and plains. A locality in the Yosemite valley once famous for its supply of this arrow-wood, was the ravine called by the Yosemites “Le Hamite,” (as we might say “the oaks,” or “the pines,”) but which is now designated as “Indian Cañon.”

Their arrow-shafts are first suitably shaped, and then polished between pieces of pumice stone. This stone was also used in fashioning and polishing their bows, spear-shafts and war clubs. Pumice stone is found in abundance in the volcanic regions of California and Oregon, and east of the Sierra Nevada. The quality of the best observed by me, was much finer and lighter than that seen in the shops as an article of commerce. The arrow heads are secured to the shaft by threads of sinew, and a species of cement usedfor that and other purposes. The arrow-heads made and in most common use by the California Indians, as well as by many other tribes in the mountain ranges of the West and Southwest, are of the same shape and general appearance, and of similar material, with the exception of obsidian and old junk bottles, as the arrow heads found in all parts of the United States. They have been generally supposed to have been made and used by the pre-historic races that once inhabited this continent. The bow and arrows were in common use by the aborigines when America was first discovered, and their use has been continued to the present time among the tribes whose limited territories were not to any extent intruded upon by the whites.

The Indians of California, unlike those of Southern Mexico and South America, who use the woorara (strychnos toxifera), poison their arrow-heads with the poison of the rattlesnake. Some animal’s liver is saturated with the poison and left until it reaches a state of thorough decomposition, when the barbs are plunged into the festering mass, withdrawn and dried. The gelatinous condition of the liver causes the poison to adhere to the stone, and the strength of the poison is thus preserved for some days. Only those arrow-heads that are inserted into a socket, and held in place by cement, are thus poisoned. These are easily detached after striking an object (the concussion shattering the cement, and the play of the shaft loosening the barb), and are left to rankle in the wound.

According to Russio, however, this practice is now seldom resorted to, except in revenge for some great or fancied injury, or by the more malignant of a tribe, Indian policy seeming to discountenance a former custom.

The introduction of fire arms among them, has been from the frontiers of civilization. The “flint,” or more properly cherty rock, when first quarried, is brittle and readily splitand broken into the desired shapes required, even with the rude implements used by the Indians; though it is not probable that any but themselves could use them, as considerable skill seems to be required. The tool commonly used in the manufacture of arrow-heads, is a species of hammer or pick, made by fastening the sharp prong of a deer’s horn to a long stick.

With these instruments of various sizes laminated pieces of rock are separated, such as slate, with quartz in filtrations, and scales are chipped from rocks, volcanic and other glass, with a skill that challenges admiration. Stone hammers, or pieces of hard stone, were secured by withes and used in some of the processes of flaking; and I have been assured that steel implements have been stolen from the miners and used for the same purpose, but I never saw them used. Arrow-heads were found, made from bones, from chert, obsidian or volcanic glass, and even old junk bottles, obtained for the purpose, during their gushing days, from the deserted camps of the libative miners.

The most approved fire-arms are now found among many of the western tribes, where but a few years ago bows and arrows were in common use. Although these hereditary implements of war and of the chase are almost wholly discarded, occasionally an old-fashioned Indian may be seen, armed with his bow and arrows, his fire-stick a foot long, occupying the hole punctured in the lobe of one ear, and his reed-pipe filling the like position in the other, while his skunk-skin pouch contained his kin-ne-kin-nick, a piece of spunk and dry charred cedar, on which a light was obtained by rapid friction with his fire-stick. This method of procuring fire, has, even among the Indians, been superseded by the flint and steel, and they in turn by the labor-saving friction matches.

I have, however, recently witnessed the process of lightinga fire by this primitive process, among the priests of the Winnebago and other eastern tribes, who still use and preserve the fire-stick in making fire for their sacred rites, during which they chant in a traditionary Indian dead language, an interpretation of which they do not pretend they are able to make. The priests told me that bad spirits would interfere with their ministrations if they did not preserve the customs of their fathers, and that the dead language made their ceremonies all the more impressive and awe-inspiring to their auditors.

During our explorations up the San Joaquin and branches, the rapidly melting snow on the mountains above flooded the streams which we were required to cross in our excursions, and we were often compelled from this cause to leave our horses and proceed on foot; hence our work was toilsome and slow.

FIRE STICK AS USED.

As soon as Captain Boling was satisfied that we had accomplished, in this locality, all that could be expected of his command, we started for head-quarters. The route selected for our return was by way of “Fine Gold Gulch,” and down the San Joaquin to a camp opposite the site of Fort Miller, that was about being established for the protection of the settlers. This was done upon recommendation of the commissioners.

Starvation subdues the Chow-chillas, and the Result is Peace—Captain Kuykendall’s Expeditions—An Attack—Rout and Pursuit—A Wise Conclusion—Freezing out Indians—A wild Country—A terrific View—YosemiteversusKing’s River—Submission of the Indians South of the San Joaquin—Second Expedition to Yosemite—Daring Scouts—Capture of Indians—Naming of “Three Brothers.”

A few days after our return from the campaign against the Chow-chil-las, a small delegation from a Kah-we-ah band on King’s river was sent in by Captain Kuykendall, whose energy had subdued nearly all of the Indians in his department. The chief of this band informed Major Savage that Tom-kit and Frederico, successors in authority to Jose Rey, had visited his camp, and had reported that they were very hungry. They came, they said, to hold a council. The chief told the Major that he had advised them to come in with him and make a treaty, but they refused. They said the white man’s “medicine” was too powerful for them; but if their great chief had not died, he would have driven the white men from the mountains, for he was “a heap wise.” The white soldiers had killed their great chief; they had killed many of their best warriors; they had burned up their huts and villages and destroyed their supplies, and had tried to drive their people from their territory, and they would kill their women and children if they did not hide them where they could not be found; and much more in a similar vein.

A small supply of acorns had been given these fugitives,and when the chief left, they had promised to return and hear what the commissioners had said. Major Savage reported this, and with the commissioners’ approval, decided to return with the Kah-we-ah chief and meet in counsel with the Chow-chil-las. He took with him sufficient “beef” on foot to give the Indians a grand feast, which lasted several days; during which time arrangements were completed for treaties with all of the remaining bands of the Kah-we-ah tribe, and with the Chow-chillas. The result of the Major’s negotiations were in the highest degree satisfactory. Captain Boling, however, claimed some of the honor, for, said he, I defeated the Chow-chillas byfiring at long range.

This once turbulent and uncompromising tribe became the most tractable of the mountain Indians. They were superior in all respects to those of most other tribes. They had intimate relations with the Monos, a light colored race as compared with the Valley or Kah-we-ah tribe, and were very expert in the manufacture and use of the bow and arrow. The Mono’s had intermarried with the Chow-chil-las, and they aided them in their intercourse with the Pah-u-tes in their barter for salt, obsidian, lava and other commodities. The Chow-chil-las now being disposed of, and a treaty signed by the other tribes, it was decided by the commissioners that our next expedition should be against the Yo-sem-i-tes. This had been recommended by Major Savage as the only practical method of effecting any terms with their old Chief. Every inducement had been offered them that had been successful with the others; but had been treated with contempt. The liberal supplies of beef they refused, saying they preferred horse-flesh. The half-civilized garbs and gaudy presents tendered at the agency were scorned by Ten-ie-ya as being no recompense for relinquishing the freedom of his mountain home. Major Savage announced that the expedition would start assoon as the floods had somewhat subsided, so that the streams could be crossed. As for ourselves, we had learned to take advantage of any narrow place in a stream, and by means of ropes stretched for feet and hands, we crossed without difficulty streams that we could not ford with horses. As this delay would allow an opportunity for some of the battalion to see to such private business as required their attention, short furloughs were granted to those most anxious to improve this occasion.

While the companies of Captains Boling and Dill were exploring the vicinities of the Merced and San Joaquin in search of Indians, Captain Kuykendall, with the able support of his Lieutenants and his company, were actively engaged in the same duties south of the San Joaquin. Captain Kuykendall vigorously operated in the valleys, foot-hills and mountains of the King’s and Kah-we-ah rivers, and those of the smaller streams south. The Indians of Kern river, owing to the influence of a mission Chief, “Don-Vincente,” who had a plantation at the Tehon pass, remained peaceful, and were not disturbed. The success of Captain Kuykendall’s campaigns enabled the commissioners to make treaties with all the tribes within the Tulare valley, and those that occupied the region south of the San Joaquin river.

Owing to lapse of time since these events, and other causes, I am unable to do justice to him, or the officers and men under him. My personal recollections of the incidents of his explorations, were acquired while exchanging stories around camp fires. Operating as they did, among the most inaccessible mountains in California, with but one company, they successfully accomplished the duties assigned them.

It was supposed that some of the tribes and bands among whom they were sent were extremely hostile to the whites,and that they would combine and resist their approach; but after a single engagement on King’s river, the Indians were put to flight without the loss of a man, and could not be induced to hazard another like encounter. The plans of operation were similar to those of Captains Boling and Dill: the destruction of the camps of all who refused to come in and have a talk with the commissioners. Captain Kuykendall’s company found these people almost without fire-arms and civilized clothing of any kind, and depending wholly on their bows and arrows. Except in the vicinity of King’s and Kah-we-ah rivers, the savages were scattered over a large range of country. Their camps were generally in the valleys and among the foot-hills; when alarmed, they fled to the rocky cañons among the mountains. In one of our conversations, during a visit of Captain Kuykendall to the Fresno, he said: “When we first started out, we learned from our scouts and guides, that a large body of Indians had collected well up on King’s river. Making a rapid march, we found, on arriving in sight, that they were inclined to give us battle. We at once charged into their camp, routed and killed a number, while others were ridden down and taken prisoners. We followed the fugitives, making a running fight, until compelled to leave our horses, when they eluded pursuit. Not yet discouraged, we followed on toward the head waters of the Kah-we-ah, seeing occasionally, upon a ridge just ahead of us, groups of Indians; but upon our reachingthatlocality, they were resting on thenext ridge; and as we came into view, turned their backs upon us, applauding our efforts to overtake them, in a verypeculiarmanner. They fled into a worse country than anything before seen in our explorations, and I soon perceived the folly of attempting to follow them longer. As to this region east and southeast of the termination of our pursuit, I have only this to say, that itis simply indescribable. I did not see any ‘dead Indians’ after leaving the village, and during the pursuit, although some of the boys were sure they had ‘fetched their man.’ It is certain that a number were killed in the assault, but how many, we were unable to ascertain, for upon our return, as usual, the dead had been carried off. We lost no men in the fight, and had but one wounded. The wound was very painful, having been inflicted by one of the glass arrow-heads that it is designed shall be left rankling in the wound; but after that was extracted, the wound soon healed without serious results.”

After this chase on foot into the “High Sierras,” the operations of Capt. Kuykendall were more limited, for, as he had stated, he regarded it as the height of folly to attempt to follow the lightly-armed and lighter clad “hostiles” with cavalry, into their rocky mountain retreats. In the saddle, except a few sailors in his company, his men felt at home, and were willing to perform any amount of severe duty, however dangerous or difficult it might be, but on foot, the Texans, especially, were like “Jack ashore, without anything to steer by.” When required to take a few days, provisions and their blankets on their backs, their efforts, like those of our command, were not very effective, so far as catching the natives was concerned. These foot expeditions were designed by the officers to keep the enemy alarmed, and in the cold regions, while their supplies were being destroyed by the mounted force ranging below. By this strategy, Captain Kuykendall kept his men constantly occupied, and at the same time displayed his genius as a soldier.

His foot expeditions were generally made by a few enthusiastic scouts, who were as much induced to volunteer to perform this duty from a love of nature as from a desire to fight. Here were found

“The palaces of Nature, whose vast wallsHave pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,And throned eternity in icy hallsOf cold sublimity, where forms and fallsThe avalanche—the thunderbolt of snow!All that expands the spirit, yet appals,Gather around these summits, as to showHow earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below.”

The stories told by the men in Kuykendall’s command were received with doubts, or as exaggerations. Their descriptions represented deeper valleys and higher cliffs than had been seen and described by scouts of the other companies. It was intimated by us, who had previously described the region of the Yosemite, “that the man who told the first story in California stood a poor chance.” Having read Professor J. D. Whitney’s reports of that region, I can better appreciate the reports of Captain Kuykendall and those under him, of the character of the mountain territory to which they had been assigned. Mr. Whitney, State Geologist, in speaking of the geological survey of this vicinity, says: “Of the terrible grandeur of the region embraced in this portion of the Sierra, it is hardly possible to convey any idea. Mr. Gardner, in his notes of the view from Mount Brewer, thus enumerates some of the most striking features of the scene: ‘Cañons from two to five thousand feet deep, between thin ridges topped with pinnacles sharp as needles; successions of great crater-like amphitheatres, with crowning precipices, over-sweeping snow-fields and frozen lakes, everywhere naked and shattered granite without a sign of vegetation, except where a few gnarled and storm-beaten pines...cling to the rocks in the deeper cañons; such were the elements of the scene we looked down upon, while cold gray clouds were drifting overhead.’”

This description applies more properly to the territory east of any point reached by Captain Kuykendall, but itverifies the statements made by him and those of some of his men.

While on our second expedition to the Yosemite, some of Captain Kuykendall’s company, who had come to headquarters and had been allowed the privileges, volunteered to accompany our supply train, as they said: “To see what kind of a country we were staying in.” One, an enthusiastic lover of nature, said on his return: “The King’s river country, and the territory southeast of it, beats the Yosemite in terrific grandeur, but in sublime beauty you have got us.” As the furloughs granted to the members of B. and C. companies expired, all promptly reported for duty, and preparations were completed for another campaign against the Yosemites.

Captain Dill, with part of his company, was retained on duty at headquarters, while Lt. Gilbert with a detachment of C. Company, was ordered to report for duty to Captain Boling. Dr. Pfifer was placed in charge of a temporary hospital, erected for the use of the battalion. Surgeon Bronson had resigned, preferring the profits received from his negro slaves, who were then mining on Sherlock’s creek to all the romance of Indian warfare. The doctor was a clever and genial gentleman, but a poor mountaineer. Doctor Lewis Leach was appointed to fill the vacancy. Doctor Black was ordered to duty with Captain Boling. Major Savage offered me a position, and it was urged upon me by Captain Boling, but having a number of men engaged in a mining enterprise, in which Spencer and myself were interested, we had mutually agreed to decline all office. Beside this, when Mr. Spencer and myself entered into service together, it was with the expectation that we would soon be again at liberty. But once in the service, our personal pride and love of adventure would not allow us to becomesubordinateby accepting office.

As it was the design of Major Savage to make a thorough search in the territory surrounding the Yosemite, if we failed in surprising the inhabitants in their valley, a few scouts and guides were provided for the expedition to aid in our search among the “High Sierras,” so distinctively named by Prof. Whitney. Among our ample supplies ropes were furnished, by order of Major Savage, suitable for floats, and for establishing bridges where needed. These bridges were suggested by myself, and were useful as a support while passing through swift water, or for crossing narrow but rushing torrents. This was accomplished expeditiously by simply stretching “taut” two ropes, one above the other, the upper rope, grasped by the hands, serving to secure the safe passage of the stream. Where trees were not found in suitable position to make the suspension, poles were lashed together so as to formshears, which served for trestles. I also suggested that snow-shoes could probably be used with advantage on our mountain excursions. The use of these I found entirely unknown, except to Major Savage and a few other eastern men. My experience favored their use, as I had often found it easier to traveloverdeep snow than to wallow through it. My suggestion caused a “heap” of merriment, and my friend Chandler laughed until he became “powerful weak,” and finally “I was assailed by so many shafts of witty raillery from my southern comrades, that I was willing to retreat, and cry out, ‘hold, enough!’”

The services of Major Savage being indispensable to the Commissioners, it was decided that the expedition would be under the command of Captain Boling. In making this announcement, the Major said: he expected Ten-ie-ya and his people would come in with us if he was formally invited, and a sufficient escort provided. Captain Boling very seriously assured the Major, that if the Yosemites accepted the invitation, he should endeavor to make the trip asecureone; there should be no neglect on the part of the escort if suitablesupplieswere provided for subsistence. Major Savage laughingly replied that as the expedition would be under the especial command of Captain Boling, he had no fears that ample supplies would not be provided.

Our preparations being made, we again started for the Merced in search of the Yosemites. It was the design of Capt. Boling to surprise the Indians if possible, and if not, to cut off the escape of their women and children, the capture of whom, would soon bring the warriors to terms. With this plan in view, and leaving Chandler virtually in command of the column, we made a rapid march direct for their valley, crossing the streams without much difficulty, and without accident.

The advance, consisting of Captain Boling with a small detachment, and some of the scouts, quietly entered the valley, but no Indians were seen. A few new wigwams had been built on the south side near the lower ford, to better guard the entrance as was supposed. Without halting, except to glance at the vacant huts, the advance rode rapidly on, following a trail up the south side, which our Pohonochee guide informed the captain was a good trail.

On entering the valley and seeing the deserted wigwams I reached the conclusion that our approach had been heralded. As my military ardor subsided, my enthusiastic love of the beautiful returned to me, and I halted a moment to take a general view of the scenery; intending also to direct the column up the south side. While waiting for Chandler, I examined the huts, and found several bushels of scorched acorns that had been divested of their covering, as if for transportation. I knew that the natives had no more fondness for burnt acorns than Yankees have for burnt beans, and the interpreter Sandino, who was with me at thismoment, muttered in Indian Spanish, “Yosemite very poor—no got much eat; acorns, fire burn—pull ’em out.” In one of the huts we found a young dog, a miserable cur that barked his affright at our approach, and fled into the brush near by. I told Lt. Chandler of the directions left for his guidance, and as he expressed his intention to bring up the rear of the column into closer order, I received permission to move slowly on with his advance, consisting of Firebaugh, Spencer, French, Fisher, Stone, a few others and myself. We were soon overtaken by Chandler, who had given his orders to the rear-guard. As we rode along, I reported the conclusions of Sandino and my knowledge of the fact that nearly all the acorns had been burnt. I also told him what Sandino had previously said, that the Indians took the shells off the acorns they carried over the mountains, and from this cause, thought the hulled acorns found were designed for a distant transportation. Again referring the matter to Sandino, who was called up for the purpose, he said, “No fire when take off skin; no like ’em; Yosemite close by, want ’em acorn.” Upon telling Chandler that Sandino’s opinion was that the acorns found were saved from some of the burning supplies fired at our first visit, and that the Yosemites were transporting them to some mountain retreat, the Lieutenant could not credit it, and said that “Sandino’s opinions are unreliable.”

Sandino was not popular, either with our officers or with the “boys.” Captain Boling doubted his integrity, while Chandler said he was a most arrant coward and afraid of the wild Indians. Chandler was right; but, nevertheless, Sandino told us many truths. At times his timidity and superstition were very annoying; but if reproved, he became the more confused, and said that many questions made his head ache;a very common answer to one in search of knowledge among Indians. Sandino had been sent alongby the Major as our interpreter, but a Spanish interpreter was necessary to make him of any use. As a scout he was inferior—almost useless. We afterwards found that Sandino’s surmises were true. It was evident that the fire had been extinguished at some of the large heaps, and many acorns saved, though in a damaged condition.

As we rode on up the valley, I became more observant of the scenery than watchful for signs, when suddenly my attention was attracted by shadowy objects flitting past rocks and trees on the north side, some distance above El Capitan. Halting, I caught a glimpse of Indians as they passed an open space opposite to us. Seeing that they were discovered, they made no further efforts to hide their movements, but came out into open view, at long rifle range. There were five of them. They saluted us with taunting gestures, and fearlessly kept pace with us as we resumed our march. The river was here a foaming impassable torrent. The warriors looked with great indifference on our repeated efforts to discover a fording place. As we approached a stretch of comparatively smooth water, I made known to Chandler my intention of swimming the stream to capture them. His answer was: “Bully for you, Doc; take ’em, if you can, alive, but take ’emanyhow.” I started with Spencer, Firebaugh, French, young Stone and two others, for a sloping bank where our animals would most willingly enter the stream; but Stone spurred passed me as we reached the bank, and when Firebaugh’s mulish mustang refused the water, though given the spur, and all the other mules refused to leave the horse, Stone backed his mule over the bank, and we swam our mules after the “boy leader” across the Merced.

HOUSEWORTH & CO. PHOTO.THE THREE BROTHERS.(3,850 feet in height.)

HOUSEWORTH & CO. PHOTO.

THE THREE BROTHERS.

(3,850 feet in height.)

The Indians, alarmed by this unexpected movement, fled up the valley at the top of their speed. By the time we had crossed, they had nearly reached a bend in the riverabove on the north side. We followed at our best gait, but found the trail obstructed by a mass of what then appeared to be recently fallen rocks. Without hesitation, we abandoned our mules, and continued the pursuit on foot, up to the rocky spur known as the “Three Brothers,” where entering the Talus, they disappeared. Find them, we could not. The obstructing rocks on the old north side trail were known as “We-äck,” “The Rocks,” and understood to mean the “fallen rocks,” because, according to traditions they had fallenuponthe old trail. The modern trail for horses crossed the stream a short distance below, where there was a very good ford in a lower stage of water, but at this time, the early part of May, the volume of water rushing down the Merced was astonishing. We had crossedreadily enough in the heat of excitement; but it was with feelings of reluctance that we re-entered the cold water and swam our mules back to where a few of our comrades had halted on the south side.

Mr. Firebaugh, having failed to get his mustang to follow us, had run him up on the south side as if to cut off the fugitives, and saw them hide behind a ledge of rocks.

When informed of the situation, Capt. Boling crossed to the north side and came down to the ledge where the scouts were hidden; but the Captain could scarcely at first credit Firebaugh’s statement, that he had seen them climb up the cliff. Our Indian scouts were sent up to hunt out the hidden warriors, and through the means of fair promises, if they came down voluntarily, Captain Boling succeeded in bringing in the five Indians. Three of the captives were known to us, being sons of Ten-ie-ya, one of whom was afterwards killed; the other two were young braves, the wife of one being a daughter of the old chief. The Indian name for the three rocky peaks near which this capture was made was not then known to any of our battalion, but from the strange coincidence of three brothers being made prisoners so near them, we designated the peaks as the “Three Brothers.” I soon learned that they were called by the Indians “Kom-po-pai-zes,” from a fancied resemblance of the peaks to the heads of frogs when sitting upready to leap. A fanciful interpretation has been given the Indian name as meaning “mountains playing leap-frog,” but a literal translation is not desirable.

They hear the plaintive bull-frog to his mistress trilling sweet;They see the green-robed sirens plunge down in waters deep.But leap these mountains may not; they watch, with clouded brow,Return of young Ten-ie-ya—heard not his death’s pow-wow.

A General Scout—An Indian Trap—Flying Artillery—A Narrow Escape—A Tragic Scene—Fortunes of War—A Scout’s Description—Recovery from a Sudden Leap—Surrounded by Enemies.

While Captain Boling was engaged in capturing the Indians we had “treed” on the north side of the valley, scouting parties were sent out by Lieut. Chandler. They spread over the valley, and search was made in every locality that was accessible. Discovering fresh signs on a trail I had unsuccessfully followed on my first visit, I pursued the traces up to a short distance below Mirror Lake. Being alone I divided my attention between the wonders of the scenery and the tracks I was following, when suddenly I was aroused by discovering a basket of acorns lying by the trail. Seeing that it was a common carrying basket, such as was generally used by the squaws in “packing,” I at first came to the conclusion that it had been thrown off by some affrighted squaw in her haste to escape on my approach. Observing another on a trail leading toward the Talus, I felt confident that I had discovered the key to the hiding-place of the Indians we were in search of. Securing my mule with the “riata” I continued the search, and found several baskets before reaching the walls of the cliff, up which, in a kind of groove, the trail ascended. By this time I began to be suspicious, and thought that there was too much method in this distribution of acorns along the trail for frightened squaws to have made, and it now occurredto me what Sandino had said of acorns being hulled for transportation up the cliffs; and thesehad not been hulled!

Before reaching the Talus, I observed that the foot-prints were large, and had been made by the males, as the toes did not turn in, as was usual with the squaws; and it now began to appear to me, that the acorns were only left to lead us into some trap; for I was aware that “warriors” seldom disgraced themselves by “packing,” like squaws. Taking a look about me, I began to feel that I was venturing too far; my ambitious desire for further investigation vanished, and I hastened back down the trail. While descending, I met Lt. Gilbert of C company, with a few men. They too had discovered baskets, dropped by the “scared Indians,” and were rushing up in hot pursuit, nearlycapturingme. I related my discoveries, and told the Lieutenant of my suspicions, advising him not to be too hasty in following up the “lead.” After I had pointed out some of the peculiarities of the location above us, he said with a sigh of disappointment, “By George! Doc. I believe you are right—you are more of an Indian than I am any way; I reckon we had better report this to the Captain before we go any further.” I replied, “I am now going in to report this strategy to Captain Boling, for I believe he can make some flank movement and secure the Indians, without our being caught in this trap.” But while we were descending to the trail, I seriously thought and believed, that Lt. Gilbert and his men as well as myself, had had a narrow escape. The bit of history of the rear guard of Charlemagne being destroyed by the Pyrenians flashed through my mind, and I could readily see how destructive such an attack might become.

After taking the precaution to secrete the baskets on the main trail, Lt. Gilbert, with his scouts, continued his explorations in other localities, saying as he left that he would warn all whom he might see “not to get into the trap.” Imounted my mule and rode down the valley in search of Captain Boling, and found him in an oak grove near our old camp, opposite a cliff, now known as “Hammo” (the lost arrow). I here learned the particulars of his successful capture of the five scouts of Ten-ie-ya’s band, and at his request asked them, through Sandino, who had come over with the “kitchen mules,” why they had so exposed themselves to our view. They replied that Ten-ie-ya knew of our approach before we reached the valley. That by his orders they were sent to watch our movements and report to him. That they did not think we could cross the Merced with our horses until we reached the upper fords; and therefore, when discovered, did not fear. They said that Ten-ie-ya would come in and “have a talk with the white chief when he knows we are here.”

After repeated questioning as to where their people were, and where the old chief would be found if a messenger should be sent to him, they gave us to understand that they were to meet Ten-ie-ya near To-co-ya, at the same time pointing in the direction of the “North Dome.” Captain Boling assured them that if Ten-ie-ya would come in with his people he could do so with safety. That he desired to make peace with him, and did not wish to injure any of them. The young brave was the principal spokesman, and he replied: “Ten-ie-ya will come in when he hears what has been said to us.”

Having acquired all the information it was possible to get from the Indians, Capt. Boling said that in the morning he would send a messenger to the old chief and see if he would come in. When told this the young “brave” appeared to be very anxious to be permitted to go after him, saying: “He is there now,” pointing towards the “North Dome,” “another day he will be on the ‘Skye Mountains,’ or anywhere,” meaning that his movements were uncertain.

Capt. Boling had so much confidence in his statements, that he decided to send some of the scouts to the region of the North Dome for Ten-ie-ya; but all efforts of our allies and of ourselves, failed to obtain any further clue to Ten-ie-ya’s hiding-place, for the captives said that they dare not disclose their signals or countersign, for the penalty was death, and none other would be answered or understood by their people. I here broke in upon the captain’s efforts to obtainuseful knowledgefrom his prisoners, by telling him of the discovery of baskets of acorns found on the trail; and gave him my reasons for believing it to be a design to lead us into an ambush—that the Indians were probably on the cliff above. I volunteered the suggestion that a movement in that direction would surprise them while watching the trap set for us.

Captain Boling replied: “It is too late in the day for a job of that kind; we will wait and see if Ten-ie-ya will come in. I have made up my mind to send two of our prisoners after him, and keep the others as hostages until he comes. To make a sure thing of this, Doctor, I want you to take these two,” pointing to one of the sons and the son-in-law of Ten-ie-ya, “and go with them to the place where they have said a trail leads up the cliff to Ten-ie-ya’s hiding place. You will take care that they are not molested by any of our boys while on this trip. Take any one with you in camp, if you do not care to go alone.”

Taking a small lunch to break my fast since the morning meal, I concluded to make the trip on foot; my mule having been turned loose with the herd. Arming myself, I started alone with the two prisoners which Capt. Boling had consigned to my guardianship. I kept them ahead of me on the trail, as I always did when traveling with any of that race. We passed along the westerly base of the North Dome at a rapid gait, without meeting any of my comrades,and had reached a short turn in the trail around a point of rocks, when the Indians suddenly sprang back, and jumped behind me. From their frightened manner, and cry of terror, I was not apprehensive of any treachery on their part. Involuntarily I cried out, “Hallo! what’s up now?” and stepped forward to see what had so alarmed them. Before me, stood George Fisher with his rifle leveled at us. I instantly said: “Hold on George! these Indians are under my care!” He determinedly exclaimed without change of position, “Get out of the way, Doctor, those Indians have got to die,” Just behind Fisher was Sergeant Cameron, with a man on his shoulders. As he hastily laid him on the ground, I was near enough to see that his clothing was soiled and badly torn, and that his face, hands and feet were covered with blood. His eyes were glazed and bloodshot, and it was but too evident that he had been seriously injured. From the near proximity of the basket trail, I instantly surmised they had been on the cliff above. The scene was one I shall long remember.

It seemed but a single motion for Cameron to deposit his burden and level his rifle. He ordered me to stand aside if I valued my own safety. I replied as quietly as I could, “Hold on, boys! Captain Boling sent me to guard these Indians from harm, and I shall obey orders.” I motioned the Indians to keep to my back or they would be killed. Cameron shouted: “They have almost killed Spencer, and have got to die.” As he attempted to get sight, he said: “Give way, Bunnell, I don’t want to hurt you.” This I thoughtvery condescending, and I replied with emphasis: “These Indians are under my charge, and I shall protect them. If you shoot you commit murder.” The whole transaction thus far seemingly occupied but a moment’s time, when to the surprise of us all, Spencer called my name. I moved forward a little, and said to them, “Throwup your rifles and let me come into to see Spencer.” “Come in!youare safe,” replied Fisher—still watching the Indians with a fierce determination in his manner. Spencer raised himself in a sitting position, and at a glance seemed to take in the situation of affairs, for he said: “Bunnell is right; boys, don’t shoot; mine is but the fortune of war;” and telling Cameron to call me, he again seemed to fall partly into stupor. As I again moved towards them with the Indians behind me, they with some reluctance, put up their rifles. Fisher turned his back to me as he said with sarcasm, “Come in with your friends, Doctor, and thank Spencer for their safety.” They relieved their excitement with volleys of imprecations. Cameron said that I “was a —— sight too high-toned to suit friends that had always been willing to stand by me.”

This occurrence did not destroy good feeling toward each other, for we were all good friends after the excitement had passed over.

I examined Spencer and found that, although no bones were broken, he was seriously bruised and prostrated by the shock induced by his injuries. Fisher started for camp to bring up a horse or mule to carry Spencer in. I learned that they had fallen into the trap on the “basket trail,” and that Spencer had been injured while ascending the cliff as I had suspected. He had, unfortunately, beentrailed in, as I had been. The particulars Cameron related to me and in my hearing after we had arrived in camp. As the Indians represented to me that the trail they proposed to take up the cliff was but a little way up the north branch, I concluded to go on with them, and then be back in time to accompany Spencer into camp. Speaking some cheering words to Spencer I turned to leave, when Cameron said to him: “You ain’t dead yet, my boy.” Spencer held out his hand, and as he took it Cameron said, with visible emotion,but emphatic declaration: “We will pay them back for this if the chance ever comes; Doc. is decidedly too conscientious in this affair.” I escorted the Indians some way above “Mirror Lake,” where they left the trail and commenced to climb the cliff.

On my return I found that Cameron had already started with Spencer; I soon overtook them and relieved him of his burden, and from there carried Spencer into camp. We found Fisher vainly trying to catch his mule. The most of the horses were still out with the scouts, and all animals in camp had been turned loose. Sergt. Cameron, while Fisher was assisting me in the removal of Spencer’s clothing aid dressing his wounds, had prepared a very comfortable bed, made of boughs, that the kind-hearted boys thoughtfully brought in; and after he was made comfortable and nourishment given him, the Sergeant related to Captain Boling the details of their adventure, which were briefly as follows: Cameron and Spencer while on their way back to camp discovered the baskets on the trail. Feeling certain that they had discovered the hiding-place of the Indians, as we had done, they concluded to make a reconnoissance of the vicinity before making a report of their discovery. Elated at their success, and unsuspicious of any unusual danger, they followed the trail that wound up the cliff, along jutting rocks that in places projected like cornices, until the converging walls forced them to a steep acclivity grooved in the smooth-worn rock. Not daunted by the difficult assent, they threw off their boots and started up the slippery gutter, when suddenly a huge mass of granite came thundering down towards them. But for a fortunate swell or prominence just above they would both have been swept into eternity; as it was, the huge rock passed over their heads; a fragment, however, struck Spencer’s rifle from his hand and hurled him fifty feet or moredown the steep wall, where he lay, entirely senseless for a time, while a shower of rocks and stones was passing over him, the shape of the wall above sending them clear of his body.

Cameron was in advance, and fortunately was able to reach the shelter of a projecting rock. After the discharge, an Indian stretched himself above a detached rock, from which he had been watching his supposed victims. Cameron chanced to be looking that way, and instantly firing, dropped his man. No doubt he was killed, for the quantity of blood found afterward on the rock, was great. The echoing report of Cameron’s rifle, brought back howls of rage from a number of rocks above, as if they were alive with demons. Anticipating another discharge from their battery, Cameron descended to the spot where Spencer had fallen, and taking him in his arms, fled out of range.

After supper, the explorers having all come in, the boys gathered around the Sergeant and importuned him to give the history of his adventures. After reflectively bringing up the scene to view, he began: “We got into mighty close quarters! Come to think of it, I don’t see how we happened to let ourselves be caught in that dead-fall. I reckon we must have fooled ourselves some. The way of it was this. We went up on the south side as far as we could ride, and after rummaging around for a while, without finding anything, Spencer wanted to go up the North Cañon and get a good look at that mountain with one side split off; so I told the boys to look about for themselves, as there were no Indians in the valley. Some of them went on up the South Cañon, and the rest of us went over to the North Cañon. After crossing the upper ford, Spencer and I concluded to walk up the cañon, so we sent our animals down to graze with the herd. Spencer looked a good long while at that split mountain, and called it a ‘half dome.’ I concludedhe might name it what he liked, if he would leave it and go to camp; for I was getting tired and hungry and said so. Spencer said ‘All right, we’ll go to camp.’

On our way down, as we passed that looking-glass pond, he wanted to take one more look, and told me to go ahead and he’d soon overtake me; but that I wouldn’t do, so he said: “No matter, then; I can come up some other time.” As we came on down the trail below the pond, I saw some acorns scattered by the side of the trail, and told Spencer there were Indians not far off. After looking about for a while Spencer found a basket nearly full behind some rocks, and in a little while discovered a trail leading up towards the cliff. We followed this up a piece, and soon found several baskets of acorns. I forgot about being hungry, and after talking the matter over we decided to make a sort of reconnoissance before we came in to make any report. Well, we started on up among the rocks until we got to a mighty steep place, a kind of gulch that now looked as if it had been scooped out for a stone battery. The trail up it was as steep as the roof on a meeting-house, and worn so slippery that we couldn’t get a foot-hold. I wanted to see what there was above, and took off my boots and started up. Spencer did the same and followed me. I had just got to the swell of the steepest slope, where a crack runs across the face of the wall, and was looking back to see if Spencer would make the riffle, when I heard a crash above me, and saw a rock as big as a hogshead rolling down the cliff toward us. I sprang on up behind a rock that happened to be in the right place, for there was no time to hunt for any other shelter.

I had barely reached cover when the bounding rock struck with a crash by my side, and bounded clear over Spencer, who had run across the crevice and was stooping down and steadying himself with his rifle. A piece of the big rock that wasshattered into fragments and thrown in all directions, struck his rifle out of his hands, and sent him whirling and clutching down a wall fifty feet. He lodged out of sight, where in going up we had kicked off our leathers. I thought he was killed, for he did not answer when I called, and I had no chance then to go to him, for a tremendous shower of stones came rushing by me. I expected he would be terribly mangled at first, but soon noticed that the swell in the trail caused the rocks to bound clear over him onto the rocks in the valley. I looked up to see where they came from just as an Indian stuck his head above a rock. My rifle came up of its own accord. It was a quick sight, but with me they are generally the best, and as I fired that Indian jumped into the air with a yell and fell back onto the ledge. He was hit, I know, and I reckonhe went west. Every rock above was soon a yelling as if alive. As I expected another discharge from their stone artillery, I slid down the trail, picked up Spencer, and “vamoosed the ranche,” just as they fired another shot of rocks down after us. I did not stay to see where they struck after I was out of range, for my rifle and Spencer took about all of my attention until safely down over the rocks. While I was there resting for a moment, Fisher came up the trail. He heard me fire and had heard the rocks tumbling down the cliff. Thinking some one was in trouble, he was going to find out who it was.

“We concluded at first that Spencer was done for; for his heart beat very slow and he was quite dumpish. We had just started for camp with him, and met Bunnell going out with the two Indians. I reckon we would have sent them on a trip down where it is warmer than up there on the mountains, if Spencer hadn’t roused himself just then. He stopped the game. He called for the Doctor; but Bunnell was as stubborn as Firebaugh’s mustang and wouldnot leave the Indians. We had to let them pass, before he would take a look at Spencer. Doc. is generally all right enough, but he was in poor business to-day. When I told him it was his own messmate, he said it didn’t matter if it were his own brother. If Captain Boling will make a shooting match and put up the other three, I’ll give my horse for the first three shots. Shooting will be cheap after that.”

I have given the substance only of Sergt. Cameron’s talk to the group around him, though but poorly imitating his style, in order to show the feeling that was aroused by Spencer’s misfortune. Spencer’s uniformly quiet and gentlemanly manners, made no enemies among rough comrades, who admired the courageous hardihood of “the little fellow,” and respected him as a man. Many expressions of sympathy were given by the scouts who gathered around our tent, on learning of his injury. For some days after the event, he could scarcely be recognized, his face was so swollen and discolored. But what Spencer seemed most to regret, was the injury to his feet and knees, which had been cruelly rasped by the coarse granite in his descent.

The injury from this cause was so great, that he was unable to make those explorations that footmen alone could accomplish. He was an enthusiastic lover of nature, an accomplished scholar and man of the world. Having spent five years in France and Germany in the study of modern languages, after having acquired a high standing here in Latin and Greek.

We thought him peculiarly gifted, and hoped for something from his pen descriptive of the Yosemite that would endure; but he could never be induced to make any effort to describe any feature of the valley, saying: “That fools only rush in where wise men stand in awe.” We were bed-fellows and friends, and from this cause chiefly, perhaps, allthe incidents of his accident were strongly impressed on my memory. After his full recovery his feet remained tender for a long time, and he made but one extended exploration after his accident while in the battalion.

During the camp discussion regarding my course in saving the two captives, Captain Boling and myself were amused listeners. No great pains were taken as a rule to hide one’s light under a bushel, and we were sitting not far off. The Captain said that he now comprehended the extreme anxiety of the captives to see Ten-ie-ya, as doubtless they knew of his intentions to roll rocks down on any who attempted to follow up that trail; and probably supposed we would kill them if any of us were killed. As he left our tent he remarked: “These hostages will have to stay in camp. They will not be safe outside of it, if some of the boys chance to get their eyes on them.”

Back to Index Next