Chapter Thirteen.The Yamparicos, or Root-Diggers.It is now pretty generally known that there are manydesertsin North America,—as wild, waste, and inhospitable as the famed Sahara of Africa. These deserts occupy a large portion of the central regions of that great continent—extending, north and south, from Mexico to the shores of the Arctic Sea; and east and west for several hundred miles, on each side of the great vertebral chain of the Rocky Mountains. It is true that in the vast territory thus indicated, the desert is not continuous; but it is equally true that the fertile stripes or valleys that intersect it, bear but a very small proportion to the whole surface. Many tracts are there, of larger area than all the British Islands, where the desert is scarce varied by an oasis, and where the very rivers pursue their course amidst rocks and barren sands, without a blade of vegetation on their banks. Usually, however, a narrow selvage of green—caused by the growth of cotton woods, willows, and a few humbler plants—denotes the course of a stream,—a glad sight at all times to the weary and thirsting traveller.These desert wastes are not all alike, but differ much in character. In one point only do they agree,—they are alldeserts. Otherwise they exhibit many varieties,—both of aspect and nature. Some of them are level plains, with scarce a hill to break the monotony of the view: and of this character is the greater portion of the desert country extending eastward from the Rocky Mountains to about 100 degrees of west longitude. At this point the soil gradually becomes more fertile,—assuming the character of timbered tracts, with prairie opening between,—at length terminating in the vast, unbroken forests of the Mississippi.This eastern desert extends parallel with the Rocky Mountains,—throughout nearly the whole of their length,—from the Rio Grande in Mexico, northward to the Mackenzie River. One tract of it deserves particular mention. It is that known as thellano estacado, or “staked plain,” It lies in North-western Texas, and consists of a barren plateau, of several thousand square miles in extent, the surface of which is raised nearly a thousand feet above the level of the surrounding plains. Geologists have endeavoured to account for this singular formation, but in vain. The table-like elevation of the Llano estacado still remains a puzzle. Its name, however, is easier of explanation. In the days of Spanish supremacy over this part of Prairie-land, caravans frequently journeyed from Santa Fé in New Mexico, to San Antonio in Texas. The most direct route between these two provincial capitals lay across the Llano estacado; but as there were neither mountains nor other landmarks to guide the traveller, he often wandered from the right path,—a mistake that frequently ended in the most terrible suffering from thirst, and very often in the loss of life. To prevent such catastrophes, stakes were set up at such intervals as to be seen from one another, like so many “telegraph posts;” and although these have long since disappeared, the great plain still bears the name, given to it from this circumstance.Besides the contour of surface, there are other respects in which the desert tracts of North America differ from one another. In their vegetation—if it deserves the name—they are unlike. Some have no vegetation whatever; but exhibit a surface of pure sand, or sand and pebbles; others are covered with a stratum of soda, of snow-white colour, and still others with a layer of common salt, equally white and pure. Many of these salt and soda “prairies”—as the trappers term them—are hundreds of square miles in extent. Again, there are deserts of scoria, of lava, and pumice-stone,—the “cut-rock prairies” of the trappers,—a perfect contrast in colour to the above mentioned. All these are absolutely without vegetation of any sort.On some of the wastes—those of southern latitudes,—the cactus appears of several species, and also the wild agave, or “pita” plant; but these plants are in reality but emblems of the desert itself. So, also, is theyucca, which thinly stands over many of the great plains, in the south-western part of the desert region,—its stiff, shaggy foliage in no way relieving the sterile landscape, but rather rendering its aspect more horrid and austere.Again, there are the deserts known as “chapparals,”—extensive jungles of brush and low trees, all of a thorny character; among which the “mezquite” of several species (mimosasandacacias), the “stink-wood” orcreosote plant(kaeberlinia), the “grease-bush” (obione canescens), several kinds ofprosopis, and now and then, as if to gratify the eye of the tired traveller, the tall flowering spike of the scarletfouquiera. Further to the north—especially throughout the upper section of the Great Salt Lake territory—are vast tracts, upon which scarce any vegetation appears, except theartemisiaplant, and other kindred products of a sterile soil.Of all the desert tracts upon the North-American continent, perhaps none possesses greater interest for the student of cosmography than that known as the “Great Basin.” It has been so styled from the fact of its possessing a hydrographic system of its own,—lakes and rivers that have no communication with the sea; but whose waters spend themselves within the limits of the desert itself, and are kept in equilibrium by evaporation,—as is the case with many water systems of the continents of the Old World, both in Asia and Africa.The largest lake of the “Basin” is the “Great Salt Lake,”—of late so celebrated in Mormon story: since near its southern shore the chief city of the “Latter-day Saints” is situated. But there are other large lakes within the limits of the Great Basin, both fresh and saline,—most of them entirely unconnected with the Great Salt Lake, and some of them having a complete system of waters of their own. There are “Utah” and “Humboldt,” “Walker’s” and “Pyramid” lakes, with a long list of others, whose names have been but recently entered upon the map, by the numerous very intelligent explorers employed by the government of the United States.Large rivers, too, run in all directions through this central desert, some of them falling into the Great Salt Lake, as the “Bear” river, the “Weber,” the “Utah,” from Utah Lake,—upon which the Mormon metropolis stands,—and which stream has been absurdly baptised by these free-living fanatics as the “Jordan?” Other rivers are the “Timpanogos,” emptying into Lake Utah; the “Humboldt,” that runs to the lake of that name; the “Carson” river; besides many of lesser note.The limits assigned to the Great Basin are tolerably well-defined. Its western rim is theSierra Nevada, or “snowy range” of California; while the Rocky and Wahsatch mountains are its boundaries on the east. Several cross-ranges, and spurs of ranges, separate it from the system of waters that empty northward into the Columbia River of Oregon; while upon its southern edge there is a more indefinite “divide” between it and the great desert region of the western “Colorado.” Strictly speaking, the desert of the Great Basin might be regarded as only a portion of that vast tract of sterile, and almost treeless soil, which stretches from the Mexican state of Sonora to the upper waters of Oregon; but the deserts of the Colorado on the south, and those of the “forks” of the Columbia on the north, are generally treated as distinct territories; and the Great Basin, with the limits already assigned, is suffered to stand by itself. As a separate country, then, we shall here consider it.From its name, you might fancy that the Great Basin was a low-lying tract of country. This, however, is far from being the case. On the contrary, nearly all of it is of the nature of an elevated tableland, even its lakes lying several thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is only by its “rim,” of still more elevated mountain ridges, that it can lay claim to be considered as a “basin;” but, indeed, the name—given by the somewhat speculative explorer, Fremont—is not very appropriate, since later investigations show that this rim is in many places neither definite nor regular,—especially on its northern and southern sides, where the “Great Basin” may be said to be badly cracked, and even to have some pieces chipped out of its edge.Besides the mountain chains that surround it, many others run into and intersect it in all directions. Some are spurs of the main ranges; while others form “sierras”—as the Spaniards term them—distinct in themselves. These sierras are of all shapes and of every altitude,—from the low-lying ridge scarce rising above the plain, to peaks and summits of over ten thousand feet in elevation. Their forms are as varied as their height. Some are round or dome-shaped; others shoot up little turrets or “needles;” and still others mount into the sky in shapeless masses,—as if they had been flung upon the earth, and upon one another, in some struggle of Titans, who have left them lying in chaotic confusion. A very singular mountain form is here observed,—though it is not peculiar to this region, since it is found elsewhere, beyond the limits of the Great Basin, and is also common in many parts of Africa. This is the formation known among the Spaniards asmesas, or “table-mountains,” and by this very name it is distinguished among the colonists of the Cape.TheLlano estacado, already mentioned, is often styled a “mesa,” but its elevation is inconsiderable when compared with themesamountains that occur in the regions west of the great Rocky chain,—both in the Basin and on the deserts of the Colorado. Many of these are of great height,—rising several thousand feet above the general level; and, with their square truncatedtable-liketops, lend a peculiar character to the landscape.The characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin is very similar to that of the other central regions of the North-American continent. Only near the banks of the rivers and some of the fresh-water lakes, is there any evidence of a fertile soil; and even in these situations the timber is usually scarce and stunted. Of course, there are tracts that are exceptional,—oases, as they are geographically styled. Of this character is the country of the Mormons on the Jordan, their settlements on the Utah and Bear Rivers, in Tuilla and Ogden valleys, and elsewhere at more remote points. There are also isolated tracts on the banks of the smaller streams and the shores of lakes not yet “located” by the colonist; and only frequented by the original dwellers of the desert, the red aborigines. In these oases are usually found cottonwood-trees, of several distinct species,—one or other of which is the characteristic, vegetation on nearly every stream from the Mississippi to the mountains of California.Willows of many species also appear; and now and then, in stunted forms, the oak, the elm, maples, and sycamores. But all these last are very rarely encountered within the limits of the desert region. On the mountains, and more frequently in the mountain ravines pines of many species—some of which produce edible cones—grow in such numbers as to merit the name of forests, of greater or less extent. Among these, or apart from them, may be distinguished the darker foliage of the cedar (Juniperus) of several varieties, distinct from thejuniperus virginianaof the States.The arid plains are generally without the semblance of vegetation. When any appears upon them, it is of the character of the “chapparal,” already described; its principal growth being “tornilla,” or “screw-wood,” and other varieties ofmezquite; all of them species of the extensive order of theleguminosae, and belonging to the several genera ofacacias,mimosas, androbinias. In many placescactacaeappear of an endless variety of forms; and some,—as the “pitahaya” (cereus giganteus), and the “tree” and “cochineal” cacti (opuntias),—of gigantesque proportions. These, however, are only developed to their full size in the regions further south,—on the deserts of the Colorado and Gila,—where also the “tree yuccas” abound, covering tracts of large extent, and presenting the appearance of forests of palms.Perhaps the most characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin—that is, if it deserve the name of a vegetation—is the wild sage, orartemisia. With this plant vast plains are covered, as far as the eye can reach; not presenting a hue of green, as the grass prairies do, but a uniform aspect of greyish white, as monotonous as if the earth were without a leaf to cover it. Instead of relieving the eye of the traveller, the artemisia rather adds to the dreariness of a desert landscape,—for its presence promises food neither to man nor horse, nor water for them to drink, but indicates the absence of both. Upon the hill-sides also is it seen, along the sloping declivities of the sierras, marbling the dark volcanic rocks with its hoary frondage.More than one species of this wild sage occurs throughout the American desert: there are four or five kinds, differing very considerably from each other, and known to the trappers by such names as “wormwood,” “grease-bush,” “stink-plant,” and “rabbit-bush.” Some of the species attain to a considerable height,—their tops often rising above the head of the traveller on horseback,—while another kind scarce reaches the knee of the pedestrian.In some places the plains are so thickly covered with this vegetation, that it is difficult for either man or horse to make way through them,—the gnarled and crooked branches twisting into each other and forming an impenetrable wattle. At other places, and especially where the larger species grow, the plants stand apart like apple-trees in an orchard, and bear a considerable resemblance to shrubs or small trees.Both man and horse refuse the artemisia as food; and so, too, the less fastidious mule. Even a donkey will not eat it. There are animals, however,—both birds and beasts, as will be seen hereafter,—that relish the sage-plant; and not only eat of it, but subsist almost exclusively on its stalks, leaves, and berries.The denizens of the Great Basin desert—I mean its human denizens—are comprehended in two great families of the aboriginal race,—theUtahsandSnakes, orShoshonees. Of the white inhabitants—the Mormons and trap-settlers—we have nothing to say here. Nor yet much respecting the above-mentioned Indians, the Utahs and Snakes. It will be enough for our purpose to make known that these two tribes are distinct from each other,—that there are many communities or sub-tribes of both,—that each claims ownership of a large tract of the central region, lying between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada; and that their limits are not coterminal with those of the Great Basin: since the range of the Snakes extends into Oregon upon the north, while that of the Utahs runs down into the valley of the Rio del Norte upon the south. Furthermore, that both are in possession of the horse,—the Utahs owning large numbers,—that both are of roving and predatory habits, and quite as wicked and warlike as the generality of their red brethren.They are also as well to do in the world as most Indians; but there are many degrees in their “civilisation,” or rather in the comforts of their life, depending upon the situation in which they may be placed. When dwelling upon a good “salmon-stream,” or among the rocky mountain “parks,” that abound in game, they manage to pass a portion of the year in luxuriant abundance. In other places, however, and at other times, their existence is irksome enough,—often bordering upon actual starvation.It may be further observed, that the Utahs and Snakes usually occupy the larger and more fertile oases of the desert,—wherever a tract is found of sufficient size to subsist a community. With this observation I shall dismiss both these tribes; for it is not of them that our present sketch is intended to treat.This is specially designed for a farodderpeople than either,—for theYamparicos, or “Root-diggers;” and having described their country, I shall now proceed to give some account of themselves.It may be necessary here to remark that the name “Diggers,” has of late been very improperly applied,—not only by the settlers of California, but by some of the exploring officers of the United States government. Every tribe or community throughout the desert, found existing in a state of special wretchedness, has been so styled; and a learned ethnologist (!), writing in the “Examiner,” newspaper, gravely explains the name, by deriving it from the gold-diggers of California! This “conceit” of the London editor is a palpable absurdity,—since the Digger Indians were so designated, long before the first gold-digger of California put spade into its soil. The name is of “trapper” origin; bestowed upon these people from the observation of one of their most common practices,—viz, thedigging for roots, which form an essential portion of their subsistence. The term “yamparico,” is from a Spanish source, and has a very similar meaning to that of “Root-digger.” It is literally “Yampa-rooter,” or “Yampa-root eater,” the root of the “yampa” (anethum graviolens) being their favourite food. The true “Diggers” are not found in California west of the Sierra Nevada; though certain tribes of ill-used Indians in that quarter are called by the name. The great deserts extending between the Nevada and the Rocky Mountains are their locality; and their limits are more or less cotemporaneous with those of the Shoshonees or Snakes, and the Utahs,—of both of which tribes they are supposed to be a sort of outcast kindred. This hypothesis, however, rests only on a slight foundation: that of some resemblance in habits and language, which are very uncertaincriteriawhere two people dwell within the same boundaries,—as, for instance, the whites and blacks in Virginia. In fact, the language of the Diggers can scarce be called a language at all: being a sort of gibberish like the growling of a dog, eked out by a copious vocabulary of signs: and perhaps, here and there, by an odd word from the Shoshonee or Utah,—not unlikely, introduced by the association of the Diggers with these last-mentioned tribes.In the western and southern division of the Great Basin, the Digger exists under the name ofPaiute, or more properly,Pah-Utah,—so-called from his supposed relationship with the tribe of the Utahs. In some respects the Pah-Utahs differ from the Shoshokee, or Snake-Diggers; though in most of their characteristic habits they are very similar to each other. There might be no anomaly committed by considering them as one people; for in personal appearance and habits of life the Pah-Utah, and the “Shoshokee”—this last is the national appellation of the yampa-eater,—are as like each other aseggs. We shall here speak however, principally of the Shoshokees: leaving it to be understood, that their neighbours the “Paiutes” will equally answer the description.Although the Shoshokees, as already observed, dwell within the same limits as their supposed kindred the Shoshonees, they rarely or never associate with the latter. On the contrary, they keep well out of their way,—inhabiting only those districts of country where the larger Shoshonee communities could not dwell. The very smallest oasis, or the tiniest stream, affords all the fertility that is required for the support of a Digger family; and rarely are these people found living more than one, or at most, two or three families together. The very necessity of their circumstances precludes the possibility of a more extensive association; for on the deserts where they dwell, neither the earth nor the air, nor yet the water, affords a sufficient supply of food to support even the smallest “tribe.” Not in tribes, then, but in single families, or little groups of two or three, do the Digger Indians dwell,—not in the larger and more fertile valleys, but in those small and secluded; in the midst of the sage-plains, or more frequently in the rocky defiles of the mountains that stand thickly over the “Basin.”The Shoshokee is nonomade, but the very reverse. A single and isolated mountain is often the abode of his group or family; and beyond this his wanderings extend not. There he is at home, knowing every nook and rat-hole in his own neighbourhood; but as ignorant of the world beyond as the “sand-rats” themselves,—whose pursuit occupies the greater portion of his time.In respect to his “settled” mode of life, theShoshokeeoffers a striking contrast to theShoshonee. Many of the latter are Indians of noble type,—warriors who have tamed the horse, and who extend their incursions, both hunting and hostile, into the very heart of the Rocky Mountains,—up their fertile valleys, and across their splendid “parks,” often bringing back with them the scalps of the savage and redoubtable Blackfeet.Far different is the character of the wretched Shoshokee,—the mere semblance of a human being,—who rarely strays out of the ravine in which he was brought forth; and who, at sight of a human face—be it of friend or enemy—flies to his crag or cave like a hunted beast!The Pah-Utah Diggers, however, are of a more warlike disposition; or rather a more wicked and hostile one,—hostile to whites, or even to such other Indians as may have occasion to travel through the deserts they inhabit. These people are found scattered throughout the whole southern and south-western portion of the Great Basin,—and also in the north-western part of the Colorado desert,—especially about the Sevier River, and on several of the tributaries of the great Colorado itself of the west It was through this part of the country that the caravans from California to New Mexico used to make their annual “trips,”—long before Alta Calafornia became a possession of the United States,—and the route by which they travelled is known as theSpanish trail. The object of these caravans was the import of horses, mules, and other animals,—from the fertile valleys of the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, to the more sterile settlements of New Mexico. Several kinds of goods were also carried into these interior countries.This Spanish trail was far from running in a direct line. The sandy, waterless plain—known more particularly as the Colorado desert—could not be crossed with safety, and the caravan-route was forced far to the north; and entered within the limits of the Great Basin—thus bringing it through the county inhabited by the Pah-Utah Diggers. The consequence was, that these savages looked out annually for its arrival; and, whenever an opportunity offered, stole the animals that accompanied it, or murdered any of the men who might be found straggling from the main body. When bent on such purposes, these Diggers for a time threw aside their solitary habits,—assembling in large bands of several hundred each, and following the caravan travellers, like wolves upon the track of a gang of buffaloes. They never made their attacks upon the main body, or when the white men were in any considerable force. Only small groups who had lagged behind, or gone too rashly in advance, had to fear from these merciless marauders,—who never thought of such a thing as making captives, but murdered indiscriminately all who fell into their hands. When horses or mules were captured, it was never done with the intention of keeping them to ride upon. Scarcely ever do the Pah-Utahs make such a use of the horse. Only for food were these stolen or plundered from their owners; and when a booty of this kind was obtained, the animals were driven to some remote defile among the mountains, and there slaughtered outright. So long as a morsel of horse or mule flesh remained upon the bones, the Diggers kept up a scene of feasting and merriment—precisely similar to thecarnivalsof the African Bushmen, after a successful foray upon the cattle of the Dutch settlers near the Cape. Indeed there is such a very striking resemblance between the Bushmen of Africa and these Digger Indians of North America; that, were it not for the distinction of race, and some slight differences in personal appearance, they might pass as one people. In nearly every habit and custom, the two people resemble each other; and in many mental characteristics they appear truly identical.The Pah-Utah Diggers have not yet laid aside their hostile and predatory habits. They are at the present hour engaged in plundering forays,—acting towards the emigrant trains of Californian adventurers just as they did towards the Spanish caravans. But they usually meet with a very different reception from the more daring Saxon travellers, who constitute the “trains” now crossing their country; and not unfrequently a terrible punishment is the reward of their audacity. For all that, many of the emigrants, who have been so imprudent as to travel in small parties, have suffered at their hands, losing not only their property, but their lives; since hundreds of the bravest men have fallen by the arrows of these insignificant savages! Even the exploring parties of the United States government, accompanied by troops, have been attacked by them; and more than one officer has fallen a victim to their Ishmaelitish propensities.It is not in open warfare that there is any dread of them. The smallest party of whites need not fear to encounter a hundred of them at once; but their attacks are made by stealth, and under cover of the night; and, as soon as they have succeeded in separating the horses or other animals from the travellers’ camp, they drive them off so adroitly that pursuit is impossible. Whenever a grand blow has been struck—that is, a traveller has been murdered—they all disappear as if by magic; and for several days after not one is to be seen, upon whom revenge might be taken. The numerous “smokes,” rising up out of the rocky defiles of the mountains, are then the only evidence that human beings are in the neighbourhood of the travellers’ camp.The Digger is different from other North-American Indians,—both in physical organisation and intellectual character. So low is he in the scale of both, as to dispute with the African Bushman, the Andaman Islander, and the starving savage of Tierra del Fuego, the claim to that point in the transition, which is supposed to separate the monkey from the man. It has been variously awarded by ethnologists, and I as one have had my doubts, as to which of the three is deserving of the distinction. Upon mature consideration, however, I have come to the conclusion that the Digger is entitled to it.This miserable creature is of a dark-brown or copper colour,—the hue so generally known as characteristic of the American aborigines. He stands about five feet in height,—often under but rarely over this standard,—and his body is thin and meagre, resembling that of a frog stretched upon a fish-hook. The skin that covers it—especially that of an old Digger—is wrinkled and corrugated like the hide of an Asiatic rhinoceros,—with a surface as dry as parched buck-skin. His feet, turned in at the toes,—as with all the aborigines of America,—have some resemblance to human feet; but in the legs this resemblance ends. The lower limbs are almost destitute of calves, and the knee-pans are of immense size,—resembling a pair of pads or callosities, like those upon goats and antelopes. The face is broad and angular, with high cheek-bones; the eyes small, black, and sunken, and sparkle in their hollow sockets, not with true intelligence, but that sort of vivacity which may often be observed in the lower animals, especially in several species of monkeys. Throughout the whole physical composition of the Digger, there is only one thing that appears luxuriant,—and that is his hair. Like all Indians he is amply endowed in this respect, and long, black tresses—sometimes embrowned by the sun, and matted together with mud or other filth—hang over his naked shoulders. Generally he crops them.In the summer months, the Digger’s costume is extremely simple,—after the fashion of that worn by our common parents, Adam and Eve. In winter, however, the climate of his desert home is rigorous in the extreme,—the mountains over his head, and the plains under his feet, being often covered with snow. At this season he requires a garment to shelter his body from the piercing blast; and this he obtains by stitching together a few skins of the sage-hare, so as to form a kind of shirt or body-coat. He is not always rich enough to have even a good coat of this simple material; and its scanty skirt too often exposes his wrinkled limbs to the biting frost.Between the Digger and his wife, or “squaw,” there is not much difference either in costume or character. The latter may be distinguished, by being of less stature, rather than by any feminine graces in her physical or intellectual conformation. She might be recognised, too, by watching the employment of the family; for it is she who does nearly all the work, stitches the rabbit-skin shirt, digs the “yampa” and “kamas” roots, gathers the “mezquite” pods, and gets together the larder of “prairie crickets.” Though lowest of all American Indians in the scale of civilisation, the Digger resembles them all in this,—he regards himself as lord and master, and the woman as his slave.As already observed, there is no such thing as a tribe of Diggers,—nothing of the nature of a political organisation; and the chief of their miserable little community—for sometimes there is a head man—is only he who is most regarded for his strength. Indeed, the nature of their country would not admit of a large number of them living together. The little valleys or “oases”—that occur at intervals along the banks of some lone desert stream,—would not, any one of them, furnish subsistence to more than a few individuals,—especially to savages ignorant of agriculture,—that is, not knowing how toplantorsow. The Diggers, however, if they know not how tosow, may be said to understand something about how toreap, sinceroot-diggingis one of their most essential employments,—that occupation from which they have obtained their distinctive appellation, in the language of the trappers.Not being agriculturists, you will naturally conclude that they are either a pastoral people, or else a nation of hunters. But in truth they are neither one nor the other. They have no domestic animal,—many of them not even the universal dog; and as to hunting, there is no large game in their country. The buffalo does not range so far west; and if he did, it is not likely they could either kill or capture so formidable a creature; while the prong-horned antelope, which does inhabit their plains, is altogether too swift a creature, to be taken by any wiles a Digger might invent. The “big-horn,” and the black and white-tailed species of deer, are also too shy and too fleet for their puny weapons; and as to the grizzly bear, the very sight of one is enough to give a Digger Indian the “chills.”If, then, they do not cultivate the ground, nor rear some kind of animals, nor yet live by the chase, how do these people manage to obtain subsistence? The answer to this question appears a dilemma,—since it has been already stated, that their country produces little else than the wild and worthless sage plant.Were we speaking of an Indian of tropical America, or a native of the lovely islands of the great South Sea, there would be no difficulty whatever in accounting for his subsistence,—even though he neither planted nor sowed, tended cattle, nor yet followed the chase. In these regions of luxuriant vegetation, nature has been bountiful to her children; and, it may be almost literally alleged that the loaf of bread grows spontaneously on the tree. But the very reverse is the case in the country of the Digger Indian. Even the hand of cultivation could scarce wring a crop from the sterile soil; and Nature has provided hardly one article that deserves the name of food.Perhaps you may fancy that the Digger is a fisherman; and obtains his living from the stream, by the side of which he makes his dwelling. Not even this is permitted to him. It is true that his supposed kindred, the Shoshonees, occasionally follow the occupation of fishermen upon the banks of the Great Snake River,—which at certain seasons of the year swarms with the finest salmon; but the poor Digger has no share in the finny spoil. The streams, that traverse his desert home, empty their waters into the briny bosom of the Great Salt Lake,—a trueDead Sea, where neither salmon, nor any other fish could live for an instant.How then does the Digger obtain his food? Is he a manufacturer,—and perforce a merchant,—who exchanges with some other tribe his manufactured goods for provisions and “raw material?” Nothing of the sort. Least of all is he a manufacturer. The hare-skin shirt is his highest effort in the line of textile fabrics; and his poor weak bow, and flint-tipped arrows, are the only tools he is capable of making. Sometimes he is even without these weapons; and may be seen with another,—a long stick, with a hook at one end,—the hook itself being the stump of a lopped branch, with its natural inclination to that which forms the stick. The object and purpose of this simple weapon we shall presently describe.The Digger’s wife may be seen with a weapon equally simple in its construction. This is also a stick—but a much shorter one—pointed at one end, and bearing some resemblance to a gardener’s “dibble.” Sometimes it is tipped with horn,—when this can be procured,—but otherwise the hard point is produced by calcining it in the fire. This tool is essentially an implement of husbandry,—as will presently appear.Let us now clear up the mystery, and explain how the Digger maintains himself. There is not much mystery after all. Although, as already stated, his country produces nothing that could fairly be termedfood, yet there are a few articles within his reach upon which a human beingmightsubsist,—that is, might just keep body and soul together. One of these articles is the bean, or legume of the “mezquite” tree, of which there are many kinds throughout the desert region. They are known to Spanish Americans asalgarobiatrees; and, in the southern parts of the desert, grow to a considerable size,—often attaining the dimension of twenty to twenty-five feet in height.They produce a large legume, filled with seeds and a pulp of sweetish-acid taste,—similar to that of the “honey-locust.” These beans are collected in large quantities, by the squaw of the Digger, stowed away in grass-woven baskets, or sometimes only in heaps in a corner of his cave, or hovel, if he chance to have one. If so, it is a mere wattle of artemisia, thatched and “chinked” with grass.The mezquite seeds, then, are thebreadof the Digger; but, bad as is the quality, the supply is often far behind the demands of his hungry stomach. For vegetables, he has the “yampa” root, an umbelliferous plant, which grows along the banks of the streams. This, with another kind, known as “kamas” or “quamash” (Camassia esculenta), is a spontaneous production; and the digging for these roots forms, at a certain season of the year, the principal occupation of the women. The “dibble-like” instrument already described is theroot-digger. The roots here mentioned, before being eaten, have to undergo a process of cooking. The yampa is boiled in a very ingenious manner; but this piece of ingenuity is not native to the Shoshokees, and has been obtained from their more clever kindred, the Snakes. The pot is awooden one; and yet they can boil meat in it, or make soup if they wish! Moreover, it is only a basket, a mere vessel of wicker-work! How, then, can water be boiled in it? If you had not been already told how it is done, it would no doubt puzzle you to find out.But most likely you have read of a somewhat similar vessel among the Chippewa Indians,—especially the tribe known as the “Assineboins,” or stone boilers—who cook their fish or flesh in pots made of birch-bark. The phrasestone boilerswill suggest to you how the difficulty is got over. The birch-bark pot is not set over fire; but stones are heated and thrown into it,—of course already filled with water. The hot stones soon cause the water to simmer, and fresh ones are added until it boils, and the meat is sufficiently cooked. By just such a process the “Snakes” cook their salmon and deer’s flesh,—their wicker pots being woven of so close a texture that not even water can pass through the interstices.It is not often, however, that, the Digger is rich enough to have one of these wicker pots,—and when he has, he is often without anything to put into it.Thekamasroots are usually baked in a hole dug in the earth, and heated by stones taken from the fire. It requires nearly two days to bake them properly; and then, when taken out of the “oven,” the mass bears a strong resemblance to soft glue or size, and has a sweet and rather agreeable taste,—likened to that of baked pears or quinces.I have not yet specified the whole of the Digger’s larder. Were he to depend altogether on the roots and seeds already mentioned, he would often have to starve,—and in reality he oftendoesstarve,—for, even with the additional supplies which his sterile soil scantily furnishes him, he is frequently the victim of famine.There may be a bad season of the mezquite-crop, and the bears—who are as cunning “diggers” as he—sometimes destroy his “plantations” of yampa and kamas. He finds a resource, however, in the prairie cricket, an insect—or reptile, you may call it—of thegryllustribe, of a dark-brown colour, and more like a bug than any other crawler. These, at certain seasons of the year, make their appearance upon the desert plains, and in such numbers that the ground appears to be alive with them. An allied species has of late years become celebrated: on account of a visit paid by vast numbers of them to the Mormon plantations; where, as may be remembered, they devastated the crops,—just as the locusts do in Africa,—causing a very severe season of famine among these isolated people. It may be remembered also, that flocks of white birds followed the movements of these American locusts,—preying upon them, and thinning their multitudinous hosts.These birds were of the gull genus (Larus), and one of the most beautiful of the species. They frequent the shores and islands of the rivers ofPrairie-land, living chiefly upon such insects as are found in the neighbourhood of their waters. It was but natural, therefore, they should follow the locusts, or “grasshoppers,” as the Mormons termed them; but thepseudo-prophetof these deluded people could not suffer to pass such a fine opportunity of proving his divine inspiration: which he did by audaciously declaring that the birds were “heaven-born,” and had been sent by the Almighty (in obedience to a prayer from him, the prophet) to rid the country of the pest of the grasshoppers!These prairie crickets are of a dark-brown colour,—not unlike thegryllus migratoriusof Africa, and with very similar habits. When settled thickly upon the ground, the whole surface assumes a darkish hue, as if covered with crape; and when they are all in motion,—creeping to and fro in search of their food,—a very singular effect is produced. At this time they do not take to wing; though they attempt to get out of the way, by making short hops from place to place, and crawling with great rapidity. Notwithstanding their efforts to escape, hundreds of them are “squashed” beneath the foot of the pedestrian, or hoofs of the traveller’s horse.These crickets, with several bug-like insects of different species, furnish the Digger with an important article of food. It may appear a strange provender for a human stomach; but there is nothing unnatural about it,—any more than about the eating of shrimps or prawns; and it will be remembered that the Bushmen, and many other tribes of South Africa eat thegryllus migratorius; while, in the northern part of that same continent, many nations regard them as a proper article of food. Though some writers have asserted, that it was the legume of the locust-tree (an acacia) which was eaten by Saint John the Baptist in the wilderness, it is easily proved that such was not the case. That his food was the locust (gryllus migratorius) and wild honey, is strictly and literally true; and at the present day, were you to visit the “wilderness” mentioned by the Apostle, you might see people living upon “locusts and wild honey,” just as they did eighteen hundred years ago.The Diggerscooktheir crickets sometimes by boiling them in the pots aforementioned, and sometimes by “roasting.” They also mix them with the mezquite seeds and pulp,—the whole forming a kind of plum-pudding, or “cricket-pasty,”—or, as it is jocosely termed by the trappers, “cricket-cake.”Their mode of collecting the grasshoppers is not without some display of ingenuity. When the insects are in abundance, there is not much difficulty in obtaining a sufficient supply; but this is not always the case. Sometimes they appear very sparsely upon the plains; and, being nimble in their movements, are not easily laid hold of. Only one could be taken at a time; and, by gleaning in this way, a very limited supply would be obtained. To remedy this, the Diggers have invented a somewhat ingenious contrivance for capturing them wholesale,—which is effected in the following manner:—When the whereabouts of the grasshoppers has been discovered, a round hole—of three or four feet in diameter, and of about equal depth—is scooped out in the centre of the plain. It is shaped somewhat after the fashion of a kiln; and the earth, that has been taken out, is carried out of the way.The Digger community then all turn out—men, women, and children—and deploy themselves into a wide circle, enclosing as large a tract as their numbers will permit. Each individual is armed with a stick, with which he beats the sage-bushes, and makes other violent demonstrations: the object being to frighten the grasshoppers, and cause them to move inward towards the pit that has been dug. The insects, thus beset, move as directed,—gradually approaching the centre,—while the “beaters” follow in a circle constantly lessening in circumference. After a time the crickets, before only thinly scattered over the plain,—grow more crowded as the space becomes contracted; until at length the surface is covered with a black moving swarm; and the beaters, still pressing upon them, and driving them onward, force the whole body pellmell over the edges of the pit.Bunches of grass, already provided are now flung over them, and upon that a few shovelfuls of earth or sand; and then—horrible to relate!—a large pile of artemisia stalks is heaped upon the top and set on fire! The result is that, in a few minutes, the poor grasshoppers are smoked to death, and parched at the same time—so as to be ready for eating, whenever thedébrisof the fire has been removed.The prairie cricket is not the only article of theflesh-meatkind, found in the larder of the Digger. Another animal furnishes him with an occasional meal. This is the “sage-hare,” known to hunters as the “sage-rabbit,” but to naturalists as thelepus artemisia. It is a very small animal,—less in size than the common rabbit,—though it is in reality a true hare. It is of a silvery, or whitish-grey colour—which adapts it to the hue of theartemisiabushes on the stalks and berries of which it feeds.It is from the skins of this animal, that the Digger women manufacture the rabbit-skin shirts, already described. Its flesh would not be very agreeable to a European palate,—even with the addition of an onion,—for it has the sage flavour to such a degree, as to be as bitter as wormwood itself. An onion with it would not be tasted! But tastes differ, and by the Digger the flesh of the sage-hare is esteemed one of the nicest delicacies. He hunts it, therefore, with the greatest assiduity; and the chase of this insignificant animal is to the Digger, what the hunt of the stag, the elephant, or the wild boar, is to hunters of a more pretentious ambition.With his bow and arrows he frequently succeeds in killing a single hare; but this is not always so easy,—since the sage-hare, like all of its kind, is shy, swift, and cunning. Its colour, closely resembling the hue of the artemisia foliage, is a considerable protection to it; and it can hide among these bushes, where they grow thickly—as they generally do—over the surface of the ground.But the Digger is not satisfied with the scanty and uncertain supply, which his weak bow and arrows would enable him to obtain. As in the case of the grasshoppers, he has contrived a plan for capturing the sage-hares by wholesale.This he accomplishes by making a “surround,” and driving the animals, not into apit, but into apound. The pound is constructed something after the same fashion as that used by the Chippewas, and other northern Indians, for capturing the herds of reindeer; in other words, it is an enclosure, entered by a narrow mouth—from thejawsof which mouth, two fences are carried far out into the plain, in a gradually diverging direction. For the deer and other large animals, the fences of the pound—as also those of the funnel that conducts to it, require to be made of strong stakes, stockaded side by side; but this work, as well as the timber with which to construct it, is far beyond the reach of the Digger. His enclosure consists of a mere wattle of artemisia stalks and branches, woven into a row of those already standing—with here and there a patching of rude nets, made of roots and grass. The height is not over three feet; and the sage-hare might easily spring over it; but the stupid creature, when once “in the pound,” never thinks of looking upward; but continues to dash its little skull against the wattle, until it is either “clubbed” by the Digger, or impaled upon one of his obsidian arrows.Other quadrupeds, constituting a portion of the Digger’s food, are several species of “gophers,” or sand-rats, ground-squirrels, and marmots. In many parts of the Great Basin, the small rodents abound: dwelling between the crevices of rocks, or honeycombing the dry plains with their countless burrows. The Digger captures them by various wiles. One method is by shooting them with blunt arrows; but the more successful plan is, by setting a trap at the entrance to their earthen caves. It is the “figure of 4 trap,” which the Digger employs for this purpose, and which he constructs with ingenuity,—placing a great many around a “warren,” and often taking as many as fifty or sixty “rats” in a single day!In weather too cold for the gophers to come out of their caves, the Digger then “digs” for them: thus further entitling him to his special appellation.That magnificent bird, the “cock of the plains,” sometimes furnishes the Digger with “fowl” for his dinner. This is a bird of the grouse family (tetrao urophasianus), and the largest species that is known,—exceeding in size the famed “cock of the woods” of northern Europe. A full-fledged cock of the plains is as large as an eagle; and, unlike most of the grouse kind, has a long, narrow body. His plumage is of a silvery grey colour—produced by a mottle of black and white,—no doubt, given him by a nature to assimilate him to the hue of the artemisia,—amidst which he habitually dwells, and the berries of which furnish him with most of his food.He is remarkable for two largegoitre-likeswellings on the breast, covered with a sort of hair instead of feathers; but, though a fine-looking large bird, and a grouse too, his flesh is bitter and unpalatable—even more so than that of the sage-hare. For all that, it is a delicacy to the Digger, and a rare one; for the cock of the plains is neither plentiful, nor easily captured when seen.There are several other small animals—both quadrupeds and birds—inhabiting Digger-land, upon which an occasional meal is made. Indeed, the food of the Digger is sufficiently varied. It is not in the quality but the quantity he finds most cause of complaint: for with all his energies he never gets enough. In the summer season, however, he is less stinted. Then the berries of the buffalo-bush are ripe; and these, resembling currants, he collects in large quantities,—placing his rabbit-skin wrapper under the bush, and shaking down the ripe fruit in showers. Amélangeof prairie crickets and buffalo-berries is esteemed by the Digger, as much as would be the best specimen of a “currant-cake” in any nursery in Christendom!The Digger finds a very curious species of edible bug, which builds its nest on the ledges of the cliffs,—especially those that overhang a stream. These nests are of a conical or pine-apple shape, and about the size of this fruit.This bug,—not yet classified or described by entomologists,—is of a dark-brown colour, about the size of the ordinary cockroach; and when boiled is considered a proper article of food,—not only by the unfastidious Diggers, but by Indians of a more epicureangoût.Besides the yampa and kamas, there are several other edible roots found in the Digger country. Among others may be mentioned a species of thistle (circium virginiarum),—the root of which grows to the size of an ordinary carrot, and is almost as well flavoured. It requires a great deal of roasting, or boiling, before it is sufficiently cooked to be eaten.Thekooyahis another article of food still more popular among Digger gourmands. This is the root of theValeriana edulis. It is of a bright-yellow colour, and grows to a considerable size. It has the characteristic odour of the well-known plant; but not so strong as in the prepared substance ofvalerian. The plant itself does not grow in the arid soil of the desert, but rather in the rich fertile bottoms of the streams, or along the shores of marshy lakes,—in company with the kamas and yampa. It is when these roots are in season, that the Shoshokees most frequent such localities; and, indeed, this same season is the time when all other articles of Digger food are plenteous enough,—the summer. The winter months are to him the “tight times.”In some parts of the desert country, as already observed, grow species of pines, with edible cones,—or rather edible seeds which the cones contain. These seeds resemble nuts, and are about the size of the common filberts.More than one species of pine produces this sort of food; but in the language of the Spanish Californians and New Mexicans, they are all indifferently termedpiñon, and the seeds simplypiñones, or “piñons.” Where these are within the reach of the Digger,—as they are in some districts,—he is then well provided for; since the piñons, when roasted, not only form an agreeable and nutritious article of food, but can be stored up as a winter stock,—that will keep for a considerable time, without danger of spoiling, or growing too stale.Such is thecommissariatof the Digger Indian; and, poor in quality though it be, there are times when he cannot obtain a sufficient supply of it. At such times he has recourse to food of a still meaner kind,—to roots, scarce eatable, and even to the seeds of several species of grass! Worms, grubs, theagama comuta, or “horned-frog of the prairies,” with other species of lizards, become his sole resource; and in the search and capture of these he occupies himself from morning to night.It is in this employment that he finds use for the long sapling, with the hooked end upon it,—the hook being used for dragging the lizards out of clefts in the rocks, within which they have sought shelter. In the accomplishment of this, the Digger displays an adroitness that astonishes the traveller: often “jerking” the reptile out of some dark crevice within which it might be supposed to have found a retreat secure from all intruders.Many other curious habits might be related of this abject and miserable race of human beings; but perhaps enough has been detailed, to secure them a place in the list of our “odd people.”
It is now pretty generally known that there are manydesertsin North America,—as wild, waste, and inhospitable as the famed Sahara of Africa. These deserts occupy a large portion of the central regions of that great continent—extending, north and south, from Mexico to the shores of the Arctic Sea; and east and west for several hundred miles, on each side of the great vertebral chain of the Rocky Mountains. It is true that in the vast territory thus indicated, the desert is not continuous; but it is equally true that the fertile stripes or valleys that intersect it, bear but a very small proportion to the whole surface. Many tracts are there, of larger area than all the British Islands, where the desert is scarce varied by an oasis, and where the very rivers pursue their course amidst rocks and barren sands, without a blade of vegetation on their banks. Usually, however, a narrow selvage of green—caused by the growth of cotton woods, willows, and a few humbler plants—denotes the course of a stream,—a glad sight at all times to the weary and thirsting traveller.
These desert wastes are not all alike, but differ much in character. In one point only do they agree,—they are alldeserts. Otherwise they exhibit many varieties,—both of aspect and nature. Some of them are level plains, with scarce a hill to break the monotony of the view: and of this character is the greater portion of the desert country extending eastward from the Rocky Mountains to about 100 degrees of west longitude. At this point the soil gradually becomes more fertile,—assuming the character of timbered tracts, with prairie opening between,—at length terminating in the vast, unbroken forests of the Mississippi.
This eastern desert extends parallel with the Rocky Mountains,—throughout nearly the whole of their length,—from the Rio Grande in Mexico, northward to the Mackenzie River. One tract of it deserves particular mention. It is that known as thellano estacado, or “staked plain,” It lies in North-western Texas, and consists of a barren plateau, of several thousand square miles in extent, the surface of which is raised nearly a thousand feet above the level of the surrounding plains. Geologists have endeavoured to account for this singular formation, but in vain. The table-like elevation of the Llano estacado still remains a puzzle. Its name, however, is easier of explanation. In the days of Spanish supremacy over this part of Prairie-land, caravans frequently journeyed from Santa Fé in New Mexico, to San Antonio in Texas. The most direct route between these two provincial capitals lay across the Llano estacado; but as there were neither mountains nor other landmarks to guide the traveller, he often wandered from the right path,—a mistake that frequently ended in the most terrible suffering from thirst, and very often in the loss of life. To prevent such catastrophes, stakes were set up at such intervals as to be seen from one another, like so many “telegraph posts;” and although these have long since disappeared, the great plain still bears the name, given to it from this circumstance.
Besides the contour of surface, there are other respects in which the desert tracts of North America differ from one another. In their vegetation—if it deserves the name—they are unlike. Some have no vegetation whatever; but exhibit a surface of pure sand, or sand and pebbles; others are covered with a stratum of soda, of snow-white colour, and still others with a layer of common salt, equally white and pure. Many of these salt and soda “prairies”—as the trappers term them—are hundreds of square miles in extent. Again, there are deserts of scoria, of lava, and pumice-stone,—the “cut-rock prairies” of the trappers,—a perfect contrast in colour to the above mentioned. All these are absolutely without vegetation of any sort.
On some of the wastes—those of southern latitudes,—the cactus appears of several species, and also the wild agave, or “pita” plant; but these plants are in reality but emblems of the desert itself. So, also, is theyucca, which thinly stands over many of the great plains, in the south-western part of the desert region,—its stiff, shaggy foliage in no way relieving the sterile landscape, but rather rendering its aspect more horrid and austere.
Again, there are the deserts known as “chapparals,”—extensive jungles of brush and low trees, all of a thorny character; among which the “mezquite” of several species (mimosasandacacias), the “stink-wood” orcreosote plant(kaeberlinia), the “grease-bush” (obione canescens), several kinds ofprosopis, and now and then, as if to gratify the eye of the tired traveller, the tall flowering spike of the scarletfouquiera. Further to the north—especially throughout the upper section of the Great Salt Lake territory—are vast tracts, upon which scarce any vegetation appears, except theartemisiaplant, and other kindred products of a sterile soil.
Of all the desert tracts upon the North-American continent, perhaps none possesses greater interest for the student of cosmography than that known as the “Great Basin.” It has been so styled from the fact of its possessing a hydrographic system of its own,—lakes and rivers that have no communication with the sea; but whose waters spend themselves within the limits of the desert itself, and are kept in equilibrium by evaporation,—as is the case with many water systems of the continents of the Old World, both in Asia and Africa.
The largest lake of the “Basin” is the “Great Salt Lake,”—of late so celebrated in Mormon story: since near its southern shore the chief city of the “Latter-day Saints” is situated. But there are other large lakes within the limits of the Great Basin, both fresh and saline,—most of them entirely unconnected with the Great Salt Lake, and some of them having a complete system of waters of their own. There are “Utah” and “Humboldt,” “Walker’s” and “Pyramid” lakes, with a long list of others, whose names have been but recently entered upon the map, by the numerous very intelligent explorers employed by the government of the United States.
Large rivers, too, run in all directions through this central desert, some of them falling into the Great Salt Lake, as the “Bear” river, the “Weber,” the “Utah,” from Utah Lake,—upon which the Mormon metropolis stands,—and which stream has been absurdly baptised by these free-living fanatics as the “Jordan?” Other rivers are the “Timpanogos,” emptying into Lake Utah; the “Humboldt,” that runs to the lake of that name; the “Carson” river; besides many of lesser note.
The limits assigned to the Great Basin are tolerably well-defined. Its western rim is theSierra Nevada, or “snowy range” of California; while the Rocky and Wahsatch mountains are its boundaries on the east. Several cross-ranges, and spurs of ranges, separate it from the system of waters that empty northward into the Columbia River of Oregon; while upon its southern edge there is a more indefinite “divide” between it and the great desert region of the western “Colorado.” Strictly speaking, the desert of the Great Basin might be regarded as only a portion of that vast tract of sterile, and almost treeless soil, which stretches from the Mexican state of Sonora to the upper waters of Oregon; but the deserts of the Colorado on the south, and those of the “forks” of the Columbia on the north, are generally treated as distinct territories; and the Great Basin, with the limits already assigned, is suffered to stand by itself. As a separate country, then, we shall here consider it.
From its name, you might fancy that the Great Basin was a low-lying tract of country. This, however, is far from being the case. On the contrary, nearly all of it is of the nature of an elevated tableland, even its lakes lying several thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is only by its “rim,” of still more elevated mountain ridges, that it can lay claim to be considered as a “basin;” but, indeed, the name—given by the somewhat speculative explorer, Fremont—is not very appropriate, since later investigations show that this rim is in many places neither definite nor regular,—especially on its northern and southern sides, where the “Great Basin” may be said to be badly cracked, and even to have some pieces chipped out of its edge.
Besides the mountain chains that surround it, many others run into and intersect it in all directions. Some are spurs of the main ranges; while others form “sierras”—as the Spaniards term them—distinct in themselves. These sierras are of all shapes and of every altitude,—from the low-lying ridge scarce rising above the plain, to peaks and summits of over ten thousand feet in elevation. Their forms are as varied as their height. Some are round or dome-shaped; others shoot up little turrets or “needles;” and still others mount into the sky in shapeless masses,—as if they had been flung upon the earth, and upon one another, in some struggle of Titans, who have left them lying in chaotic confusion. A very singular mountain form is here observed,—though it is not peculiar to this region, since it is found elsewhere, beyond the limits of the Great Basin, and is also common in many parts of Africa. This is the formation known among the Spaniards asmesas, or “table-mountains,” and by this very name it is distinguished among the colonists of the Cape.
TheLlano estacado, already mentioned, is often styled a “mesa,” but its elevation is inconsiderable when compared with themesamountains that occur in the regions west of the great Rocky chain,—both in the Basin and on the deserts of the Colorado. Many of these are of great height,—rising several thousand feet above the general level; and, with their square truncatedtable-liketops, lend a peculiar character to the landscape.
The characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin is very similar to that of the other central regions of the North-American continent. Only near the banks of the rivers and some of the fresh-water lakes, is there any evidence of a fertile soil; and even in these situations the timber is usually scarce and stunted. Of course, there are tracts that are exceptional,—oases, as they are geographically styled. Of this character is the country of the Mormons on the Jordan, their settlements on the Utah and Bear Rivers, in Tuilla and Ogden valleys, and elsewhere at more remote points. There are also isolated tracts on the banks of the smaller streams and the shores of lakes not yet “located” by the colonist; and only frequented by the original dwellers of the desert, the red aborigines. In these oases are usually found cottonwood-trees, of several distinct species,—one or other of which is the characteristic, vegetation on nearly every stream from the Mississippi to the mountains of California.
Willows of many species also appear; and now and then, in stunted forms, the oak, the elm, maples, and sycamores. But all these last are very rarely encountered within the limits of the desert region. On the mountains, and more frequently in the mountain ravines pines of many species—some of which produce edible cones—grow in such numbers as to merit the name of forests, of greater or less extent. Among these, or apart from them, may be distinguished the darker foliage of the cedar (Juniperus) of several varieties, distinct from thejuniperus virginianaof the States.
The arid plains are generally without the semblance of vegetation. When any appears upon them, it is of the character of the “chapparal,” already described; its principal growth being “tornilla,” or “screw-wood,” and other varieties ofmezquite; all of them species of the extensive order of theleguminosae, and belonging to the several genera ofacacias,mimosas, androbinias. In many placescactacaeappear of an endless variety of forms; and some,—as the “pitahaya” (cereus giganteus), and the “tree” and “cochineal” cacti (opuntias),—of gigantesque proportions. These, however, are only developed to their full size in the regions further south,—on the deserts of the Colorado and Gila,—where also the “tree yuccas” abound, covering tracts of large extent, and presenting the appearance of forests of palms.
Perhaps the most characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin—that is, if it deserve the name of a vegetation—is the wild sage, orartemisia. With this plant vast plains are covered, as far as the eye can reach; not presenting a hue of green, as the grass prairies do, but a uniform aspect of greyish white, as monotonous as if the earth were without a leaf to cover it. Instead of relieving the eye of the traveller, the artemisia rather adds to the dreariness of a desert landscape,—for its presence promises food neither to man nor horse, nor water for them to drink, but indicates the absence of both. Upon the hill-sides also is it seen, along the sloping declivities of the sierras, marbling the dark volcanic rocks with its hoary frondage.
More than one species of this wild sage occurs throughout the American desert: there are four or five kinds, differing very considerably from each other, and known to the trappers by such names as “wormwood,” “grease-bush,” “stink-plant,” and “rabbit-bush.” Some of the species attain to a considerable height,—their tops often rising above the head of the traveller on horseback,—while another kind scarce reaches the knee of the pedestrian.
In some places the plains are so thickly covered with this vegetation, that it is difficult for either man or horse to make way through them,—the gnarled and crooked branches twisting into each other and forming an impenetrable wattle. At other places, and especially where the larger species grow, the plants stand apart like apple-trees in an orchard, and bear a considerable resemblance to shrubs or small trees.
Both man and horse refuse the artemisia as food; and so, too, the less fastidious mule. Even a donkey will not eat it. There are animals, however,—both birds and beasts, as will be seen hereafter,—that relish the sage-plant; and not only eat of it, but subsist almost exclusively on its stalks, leaves, and berries.
The denizens of the Great Basin desert—I mean its human denizens—are comprehended in two great families of the aboriginal race,—theUtahsandSnakes, orShoshonees. Of the white inhabitants—the Mormons and trap-settlers—we have nothing to say here. Nor yet much respecting the above-mentioned Indians, the Utahs and Snakes. It will be enough for our purpose to make known that these two tribes are distinct from each other,—that there are many communities or sub-tribes of both,—that each claims ownership of a large tract of the central region, lying between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada; and that their limits are not coterminal with those of the Great Basin: since the range of the Snakes extends into Oregon upon the north, while that of the Utahs runs down into the valley of the Rio del Norte upon the south. Furthermore, that both are in possession of the horse,—the Utahs owning large numbers,—that both are of roving and predatory habits, and quite as wicked and warlike as the generality of their red brethren.
They are also as well to do in the world as most Indians; but there are many degrees in their “civilisation,” or rather in the comforts of their life, depending upon the situation in which they may be placed. When dwelling upon a good “salmon-stream,” or among the rocky mountain “parks,” that abound in game, they manage to pass a portion of the year in luxuriant abundance. In other places, however, and at other times, their existence is irksome enough,—often bordering upon actual starvation.
It may be further observed, that the Utahs and Snakes usually occupy the larger and more fertile oases of the desert,—wherever a tract is found of sufficient size to subsist a community. With this observation I shall dismiss both these tribes; for it is not of them that our present sketch is intended to treat.
This is specially designed for a farodderpeople than either,—for theYamparicos, or “Root-diggers;” and having described their country, I shall now proceed to give some account of themselves.
It may be necessary here to remark that the name “Diggers,” has of late been very improperly applied,—not only by the settlers of California, but by some of the exploring officers of the United States government. Every tribe or community throughout the desert, found existing in a state of special wretchedness, has been so styled; and a learned ethnologist (!), writing in the “Examiner,” newspaper, gravely explains the name, by deriving it from the gold-diggers of California! This “conceit” of the London editor is a palpable absurdity,—since the Digger Indians were so designated, long before the first gold-digger of California put spade into its soil. The name is of “trapper” origin; bestowed upon these people from the observation of one of their most common practices,—viz, thedigging for roots, which form an essential portion of their subsistence. The term “yamparico,” is from a Spanish source, and has a very similar meaning to that of “Root-digger.” It is literally “Yampa-rooter,” or “Yampa-root eater,” the root of the “yampa” (anethum graviolens) being their favourite food. The true “Diggers” are not found in California west of the Sierra Nevada; though certain tribes of ill-used Indians in that quarter are called by the name. The great deserts extending between the Nevada and the Rocky Mountains are their locality; and their limits are more or less cotemporaneous with those of the Shoshonees or Snakes, and the Utahs,—of both of which tribes they are supposed to be a sort of outcast kindred. This hypothesis, however, rests only on a slight foundation: that of some resemblance in habits and language, which are very uncertaincriteriawhere two people dwell within the same boundaries,—as, for instance, the whites and blacks in Virginia. In fact, the language of the Diggers can scarce be called a language at all: being a sort of gibberish like the growling of a dog, eked out by a copious vocabulary of signs: and perhaps, here and there, by an odd word from the Shoshonee or Utah,—not unlikely, introduced by the association of the Diggers with these last-mentioned tribes.
In the western and southern division of the Great Basin, the Digger exists under the name ofPaiute, or more properly,Pah-Utah,—so-called from his supposed relationship with the tribe of the Utahs. In some respects the Pah-Utahs differ from the Shoshokee, or Snake-Diggers; though in most of their characteristic habits they are very similar to each other. There might be no anomaly committed by considering them as one people; for in personal appearance and habits of life the Pah-Utah, and the “Shoshokee”—this last is the national appellation of the yampa-eater,—are as like each other aseggs. We shall here speak however, principally of the Shoshokees: leaving it to be understood, that their neighbours the “Paiutes” will equally answer the description.
Although the Shoshokees, as already observed, dwell within the same limits as their supposed kindred the Shoshonees, they rarely or never associate with the latter. On the contrary, they keep well out of their way,—inhabiting only those districts of country where the larger Shoshonee communities could not dwell. The very smallest oasis, or the tiniest stream, affords all the fertility that is required for the support of a Digger family; and rarely are these people found living more than one, or at most, two or three families together. The very necessity of their circumstances precludes the possibility of a more extensive association; for on the deserts where they dwell, neither the earth nor the air, nor yet the water, affords a sufficient supply of food to support even the smallest “tribe.” Not in tribes, then, but in single families, or little groups of two or three, do the Digger Indians dwell,—not in the larger and more fertile valleys, but in those small and secluded; in the midst of the sage-plains, or more frequently in the rocky defiles of the mountains that stand thickly over the “Basin.”
The Shoshokee is nonomade, but the very reverse. A single and isolated mountain is often the abode of his group or family; and beyond this his wanderings extend not. There he is at home, knowing every nook and rat-hole in his own neighbourhood; but as ignorant of the world beyond as the “sand-rats” themselves,—whose pursuit occupies the greater portion of his time.
In respect to his “settled” mode of life, theShoshokeeoffers a striking contrast to theShoshonee. Many of the latter are Indians of noble type,—warriors who have tamed the horse, and who extend their incursions, both hunting and hostile, into the very heart of the Rocky Mountains,—up their fertile valleys, and across their splendid “parks,” often bringing back with them the scalps of the savage and redoubtable Blackfeet.
Far different is the character of the wretched Shoshokee,—the mere semblance of a human being,—who rarely strays out of the ravine in which he was brought forth; and who, at sight of a human face—be it of friend or enemy—flies to his crag or cave like a hunted beast!
The Pah-Utah Diggers, however, are of a more warlike disposition; or rather a more wicked and hostile one,—hostile to whites, or even to such other Indians as may have occasion to travel through the deserts they inhabit. These people are found scattered throughout the whole southern and south-western portion of the Great Basin,—and also in the north-western part of the Colorado desert,—especially about the Sevier River, and on several of the tributaries of the great Colorado itself of the west It was through this part of the country that the caravans from California to New Mexico used to make their annual “trips,”—long before Alta Calafornia became a possession of the United States,—and the route by which they travelled is known as theSpanish trail. The object of these caravans was the import of horses, mules, and other animals,—from the fertile valleys of the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, to the more sterile settlements of New Mexico. Several kinds of goods were also carried into these interior countries.
This Spanish trail was far from running in a direct line. The sandy, waterless plain—known more particularly as the Colorado desert—could not be crossed with safety, and the caravan-route was forced far to the north; and entered within the limits of the Great Basin—thus bringing it through the county inhabited by the Pah-Utah Diggers. The consequence was, that these savages looked out annually for its arrival; and, whenever an opportunity offered, stole the animals that accompanied it, or murdered any of the men who might be found straggling from the main body. When bent on such purposes, these Diggers for a time threw aside their solitary habits,—assembling in large bands of several hundred each, and following the caravan travellers, like wolves upon the track of a gang of buffaloes. They never made their attacks upon the main body, or when the white men were in any considerable force. Only small groups who had lagged behind, or gone too rashly in advance, had to fear from these merciless marauders,—who never thought of such a thing as making captives, but murdered indiscriminately all who fell into their hands. When horses or mules were captured, it was never done with the intention of keeping them to ride upon. Scarcely ever do the Pah-Utahs make such a use of the horse. Only for food were these stolen or plundered from their owners; and when a booty of this kind was obtained, the animals were driven to some remote defile among the mountains, and there slaughtered outright. So long as a morsel of horse or mule flesh remained upon the bones, the Diggers kept up a scene of feasting and merriment—precisely similar to thecarnivalsof the African Bushmen, after a successful foray upon the cattle of the Dutch settlers near the Cape. Indeed there is such a very striking resemblance between the Bushmen of Africa and these Digger Indians of North America; that, were it not for the distinction of race, and some slight differences in personal appearance, they might pass as one people. In nearly every habit and custom, the two people resemble each other; and in many mental characteristics they appear truly identical.
The Pah-Utah Diggers have not yet laid aside their hostile and predatory habits. They are at the present hour engaged in plundering forays,—acting towards the emigrant trains of Californian adventurers just as they did towards the Spanish caravans. But they usually meet with a very different reception from the more daring Saxon travellers, who constitute the “trains” now crossing their country; and not unfrequently a terrible punishment is the reward of their audacity. For all that, many of the emigrants, who have been so imprudent as to travel in small parties, have suffered at their hands, losing not only their property, but their lives; since hundreds of the bravest men have fallen by the arrows of these insignificant savages! Even the exploring parties of the United States government, accompanied by troops, have been attacked by them; and more than one officer has fallen a victim to their Ishmaelitish propensities.
It is not in open warfare that there is any dread of them. The smallest party of whites need not fear to encounter a hundred of them at once; but their attacks are made by stealth, and under cover of the night; and, as soon as they have succeeded in separating the horses or other animals from the travellers’ camp, they drive them off so adroitly that pursuit is impossible. Whenever a grand blow has been struck—that is, a traveller has been murdered—they all disappear as if by magic; and for several days after not one is to be seen, upon whom revenge might be taken. The numerous “smokes,” rising up out of the rocky defiles of the mountains, are then the only evidence that human beings are in the neighbourhood of the travellers’ camp.
The Digger is different from other North-American Indians,—both in physical organisation and intellectual character. So low is he in the scale of both, as to dispute with the African Bushman, the Andaman Islander, and the starving savage of Tierra del Fuego, the claim to that point in the transition, which is supposed to separate the monkey from the man. It has been variously awarded by ethnologists, and I as one have had my doubts, as to which of the three is deserving of the distinction. Upon mature consideration, however, I have come to the conclusion that the Digger is entitled to it.
This miserable creature is of a dark-brown or copper colour,—the hue so generally known as characteristic of the American aborigines. He stands about five feet in height,—often under but rarely over this standard,—and his body is thin and meagre, resembling that of a frog stretched upon a fish-hook. The skin that covers it—especially that of an old Digger—is wrinkled and corrugated like the hide of an Asiatic rhinoceros,—with a surface as dry as parched buck-skin. His feet, turned in at the toes,—as with all the aborigines of America,—have some resemblance to human feet; but in the legs this resemblance ends. The lower limbs are almost destitute of calves, and the knee-pans are of immense size,—resembling a pair of pads or callosities, like those upon goats and antelopes. The face is broad and angular, with high cheek-bones; the eyes small, black, and sunken, and sparkle in their hollow sockets, not with true intelligence, but that sort of vivacity which may often be observed in the lower animals, especially in several species of monkeys. Throughout the whole physical composition of the Digger, there is only one thing that appears luxuriant,—and that is his hair. Like all Indians he is amply endowed in this respect, and long, black tresses—sometimes embrowned by the sun, and matted together with mud or other filth—hang over his naked shoulders. Generally he crops them.
In the summer months, the Digger’s costume is extremely simple,—after the fashion of that worn by our common parents, Adam and Eve. In winter, however, the climate of his desert home is rigorous in the extreme,—the mountains over his head, and the plains under his feet, being often covered with snow. At this season he requires a garment to shelter his body from the piercing blast; and this he obtains by stitching together a few skins of the sage-hare, so as to form a kind of shirt or body-coat. He is not always rich enough to have even a good coat of this simple material; and its scanty skirt too often exposes his wrinkled limbs to the biting frost.
Between the Digger and his wife, or “squaw,” there is not much difference either in costume or character. The latter may be distinguished, by being of less stature, rather than by any feminine graces in her physical or intellectual conformation. She might be recognised, too, by watching the employment of the family; for it is she who does nearly all the work, stitches the rabbit-skin shirt, digs the “yampa” and “kamas” roots, gathers the “mezquite” pods, and gets together the larder of “prairie crickets.” Though lowest of all American Indians in the scale of civilisation, the Digger resembles them all in this,—he regards himself as lord and master, and the woman as his slave.
As already observed, there is no such thing as a tribe of Diggers,—nothing of the nature of a political organisation; and the chief of their miserable little community—for sometimes there is a head man—is only he who is most regarded for his strength. Indeed, the nature of their country would not admit of a large number of them living together. The little valleys or “oases”—that occur at intervals along the banks of some lone desert stream,—would not, any one of them, furnish subsistence to more than a few individuals,—especially to savages ignorant of agriculture,—that is, not knowing how toplantorsow. The Diggers, however, if they know not how tosow, may be said to understand something about how toreap, sinceroot-diggingis one of their most essential employments,—that occupation from which they have obtained their distinctive appellation, in the language of the trappers.
Not being agriculturists, you will naturally conclude that they are either a pastoral people, or else a nation of hunters. But in truth they are neither one nor the other. They have no domestic animal,—many of them not even the universal dog; and as to hunting, there is no large game in their country. The buffalo does not range so far west; and if he did, it is not likely they could either kill or capture so formidable a creature; while the prong-horned antelope, which does inhabit their plains, is altogether too swift a creature, to be taken by any wiles a Digger might invent. The “big-horn,” and the black and white-tailed species of deer, are also too shy and too fleet for their puny weapons; and as to the grizzly bear, the very sight of one is enough to give a Digger Indian the “chills.”
If, then, they do not cultivate the ground, nor rear some kind of animals, nor yet live by the chase, how do these people manage to obtain subsistence? The answer to this question appears a dilemma,—since it has been already stated, that their country produces little else than the wild and worthless sage plant.
Were we speaking of an Indian of tropical America, or a native of the lovely islands of the great South Sea, there would be no difficulty whatever in accounting for his subsistence,—even though he neither planted nor sowed, tended cattle, nor yet followed the chase. In these regions of luxuriant vegetation, nature has been bountiful to her children; and, it may be almost literally alleged that the loaf of bread grows spontaneously on the tree. But the very reverse is the case in the country of the Digger Indian. Even the hand of cultivation could scarce wring a crop from the sterile soil; and Nature has provided hardly one article that deserves the name of food.
Perhaps you may fancy that the Digger is a fisherman; and obtains his living from the stream, by the side of which he makes his dwelling. Not even this is permitted to him. It is true that his supposed kindred, the Shoshonees, occasionally follow the occupation of fishermen upon the banks of the Great Snake River,—which at certain seasons of the year swarms with the finest salmon; but the poor Digger has no share in the finny spoil. The streams, that traverse his desert home, empty their waters into the briny bosom of the Great Salt Lake,—a trueDead Sea, where neither salmon, nor any other fish could live for an instant.
How then does the Digger obtain his food? Is he a manufacturer,—and perforce a merchant,—who exchanges with some other tribe his manufactured goods for provisions and “raw material?” Nothing of the sort. Least of all is he a manufacturer. The hare-skin shirt is his highest effort in the line of textile fabrics; and his poor weak bow, and flint-tipped arrows, are the only tools he is capable of making. Sometimes he is even without these weapons; and may be seen with another,—a long stick, with a hook at one end,—the hook itself being the stump of a lopped branch, with its natural inclination to that which forms the stick. The object and purpose of this simple weapon we shall presently describe.
The Digger’s wife may be seen with a weapon equally simple in its construction. This is also a stick—but a much shorter one—pointed at one end, and bearing some resemblance to a gardener’s “dibble.” Sometimes it is tipped with horn,—when this can be procured,—but otherwise the hard point is produced by calcining it in the fire. This tool is essentially an implement of husbandry,—as will presently appear.
Let us now clear up the mystery, and explain how the Digger maintains himself. There is not much mystery after all. Although, as already stated, his country produces nothing that could fairly be termedfood, yet there are a few articles within his reach upon which a human beingmightsubsist,—that is, might just keep body and soul together. One of these articles is the bean, or legume of the “mezquite” tree, of which there are many kinds throughout the desert region. They are known to Spanish Americans asalgarobiatrees; and, in the southern parts of the desert, grow to a considerable size,—often attaining the dimension of twenty to twenty-five feet in height.
They produce a large legume, filled with seeds and a pulp of sweetish-acid taste,—similar to that of the “honey-locust.” These beans are collected in large quantities, by the squaw of the Digger, stowed away in grass-woven baskets, or sometimes only in heaps in a corner of his cave, or hovel, if he chance to have one. If so, it is a mere wattle of artemisia, thatched and “chinked” with grass.
The mezquite seeds, then, are thebreadof the Digger; but, bad as is the quality, the supply is often far behind the demands of his hungry stomach. For vegetables, he has the “yampa” root, an umbelliferous plant, which grows along the banks of the streams. This, with another kind, known as “kamas” or “quamash” (Camassia esculenta), is a spontaneous production; and the digging for these roots forms, at a certain season of the year, the principal occupation of the women. The “dibble-like” instrument already described is theroot-digger. The roots here mentioned, before being eaten, have to undergo a process of cooking. The yampa is boiled in a very ingenious manner; but this piece of ingenuity is not native to the Shoshokees, and has been obtained from their more clever kindred, the Snakes. The pot is awooden one; and yet they can boil meat in it, or make soup if they wish! Moreover, it is only a basket, a mere vessel of wicker-work! How, then, can water be boiled in it? If you had not been already told how it is done, it would no doubt puzzle you to find out.
But most likely you have read of a somewhat similar vessel among the Chippewa Indians,—especially the tribe known as the “Assineboins,” or stone boilers—who cook their fish or flesh in pots made of birch-bark. The phrasestone boilerswill suggest to you how the difficulty is got over. The birch-bark pot is not set over fire; but stones are heated and thrown into it,—of course already filled with water. The hot stones soon cause the water to simmer, and fresh ones are added until it boils, and the meat is sufficiently cooked. By just such a process the “Snakes” cook their salmon and deer’s flesh,—their wicker pots being woven of so close a texture that not even water can pass through the interstices.
It is not often, however, that, the Digger is rich enough to have one of these wicker pots,—and when he has, he is often without anything to put into it.
Thekamasroots are usually baked in a hole dug in the earth, and heated by stones taken from the fire. It requires nearly two days to bake them properly; and then, when taken out of the “oven,” the mass bears a strong resemblance to soft glue or size, and has a sweet and rather agreeable taste,—likened to that of baked pears or quinces.
I have not yet specified the whole of the Digger’s larder. Were he to depend altogether on the roots and seeds already mentioned, he would often have to starve,—and in reality he oftendoesstarve,—for, even with the additional supplies which his sterile soil scantily furnishes him, he is frequently the victim of famine.
There may be a bad season of the mezquite-crop, and the bears—who are as cunning “diggers” as he—sometimes destroy his “plantations” of yampa and kamas. He finds a resource, however, in the prairie cricket, an insect—or reptile, you may call it—of thegryllustribe, of a dark-brown colour, and more like a bug than any other crawler. These, at certain seasons of the year, make their appearance upon the desert plains, and in such numbers that the ground appears to be alive with them. An allied species has of late years become celebrated: on account of a visit paid by vast numbers of them to the Mormon plantations; where, as may be remembered, they devastated the crops,—just as the locusts do in Africa,—causing a very severe season of famine among these isolated people. It may be remembered also, that flocks of white birds followed the movements of these American locusts,—preying upon them, and thinning their multitudinous hosts.
These birds were of the gull genus (Larus), and one of the most beautiful of the species. They frequent the shores and islands of the rivers ofPrairie-land, living chiefly upon such insects as are found in the neighbourhood of their waters. It was but natural, therefore, they should follow the locusts, or “grasshoppers,” as the Mormons termed them; but thepseudo-prophetof these deluded people could not suffer to pass such a fine opportunity of proving his divine inspiration: which he did by audaciously declaring that the birds were “heaven-born,” and had been sent by the Almighty (in obedience to a prayer from him, the prophet) to rid the country of the pest of the grasshoppers!
These prairie crickets are of a dark-brown colour,—not unlike thegryllus migratoriusof Africa, and with very similar habits. When settled thickly upon the ground, the whole surface assumes a darkish hue, as if covered with crape; and when they are all in motion,—creeping to and fro in search of their food,—a very singular effect is produced. At this time they do not take to wing; though they attempt to get out of the way, by making short hops from place to place, and crawling with great rapidity. Notwithstanding their efforts to escape, hundreds of them are “squashed” beneath the foot of the pedestrian, or hoofs of the traveller’s horse.
These crickets, with several bug-like insects of different species, furnish the Digger with an important article of food. It may appear a strange provender for a human stomach; but there is nothing unnatural about it,—any more than about the eating of shrimps or prawns; and it will be remembered that the Bushmen, and many other tribes of South Africa eat thegryllus migratorius; while, in the northern part of that same continent, many nations regard them as a proper article of food. Though some writers have asserted, that it was the legume of the locust-tree (an acacia) which was eaten by Saint John the Baptist in the wilderness, it is easily proved that such was not the case. That his food was the locust (gryllus migratorius) and wild honey, is strictly and literally true; and at the present day, were you to visit the “wilderness” mentioned by the Apostle, you might see people living upon “locusts and wild honey,” just as they did eighteen hundred years ago.
The Diggerscooktheir crickets sometimes by boiling them in the pots aforementioned, and sometimes by “roasting.” They also mix them with the mezquite seeds and pulp,—the whole forming a kind of plum-pudding, or “cricket-pasty,”—or, as it is jocosely termed by the trappers, “cricket-cake.”
Their mode of collecting the grasshoppers is not without some display of ingenuity. When the insects are in abundance, there is not much difficulty in obtaining a sufficient supply; but this is not always the case. Sometimes they appear very sparsely upon the plains; and, being nimble in their movements, are not easily laid hold of. Only one could be taken at a time; and, by gleaning in this way, a very limited supply would be obtained. To remedy this, the Diggers have invented a somewhat ingenious contrivance for capturing them wholesale,—which is effected in the following manner:—When the whereabouts of the grasshoppers has been discovered, a round hole—of three or four feet in diameter, and of about equal depth—is scooped out in the centre of the plain. It is shaped somewhat after the fashion of a kiln; and the earth, that has been taken out, is carried out of the way.
The Digger community then all turn out—men, women, and children—and deploy themselves into a wide circle, enclosing as large a tract as their numbers will permit. Each individual is armed with a stick, with which he beats the sage-bushes, and makes other violent demonstrations: the object being to frighten the grasshoppers, and cause them to move inward towards the pit that has been dug. The insects, thus beset, move as directed,—gradually approaching the centre,—while the “beaters” follow in a circle constantly lessening in circumference. After a time the crickets, before only thinly scattered over the plain,—grow more crowded as the space becomes contracted; until at length the surface is covered with a black moving swarm; and the beaters, still pressing upon them, and driving them onward, force the whole body pellmell over the edges of the pit.
Bunches of grass, already provided are now flung over them, and upon that a few shovelfuls of earth or sand; and then—horrible to relate!—a large pile of artemisia stalks is heaped upon the top and set on fire! The result is that, in a few minutes, the poor grasshoppers are smoked to death, and parched at the same time—so as to be ready for eating, whenever thedébrisof the fire has been removed.
The prairie cricket is not the only article of theflesh-meatkind, found in the larder of the Digger. Another animal furnishes him with an occasional meal. This is the “sage-hare,” known to hunters as the “sage-rabbit,” but to naturalists as thelepus artemisia. It is a very small animal,—less in size than the common rabbit,—though it is in reality a true hare. It is of a silvery, or whitish-grey colour—which adapts it to the hue of theartemisiabushes on the stalks and berries of which it feeds.
It is from the skins of this animal, that the Digger women manufacture the rabbit-skin shirts, already described. Its flesh would not be very agreeable to a European palate,—even with the addition of an onion,—for it has the sage flavour to such a degree, as to be as bitter as wormwood itself. An onion with it would not be tasted! But tastes differ, and by the Digger the flesh of the sage-hare is esteemed one of the nicest delicacies. He hunts it, therefore, with the greatest assiduity; and the chase of this insignificant animal is to the Digger, what the hunt of the stag, the elephant, or the wild boar, is to hunters of a more pretentious ambition.
With his bow and arrows he frequently succeeds in killing a single hare; but this is not always so easy,—since the sage-hare, like all of its kind, is shy, swift, and cunning. Its colour, closely resembling the hue of the artemisia foliage, is a considerable protection to it; and it can hide among these bushes, where they grow thickly—as they generally do—over the surface of the ground.
But the Digger is not satisfied with the scanty and uncertain supply, which his weak bow and arrows would enable him to obtain. As in the case of the grasshoppers, he has contrived a plan for capturing the sage-hares by wholesale.
This he accomplishes by making a “surround,” and driving the animals, not into apit, but into apound. The pound is constructed something after the same fashion as that used by the Chippewas, and other northern Indians, for capturing the herds of reindeer; in other words, it is an enclosure, entered by a narrow mouth—from thejawsof which mouth, two fences are carried far out into the plain, in a gradually diverging direction. For the deer and other large animals, the fences of the pound—as also those of the funnel that conducts to it, require to be made of strong stakes, stockaded side by side; but this work, as well as the timber with which to construct it, is far beyond the reach of the Digger. His enclosure consists of a mere wattle of artemisia stalks and branches, woven into a row of those already standing—with here and there a patching of rude nets, made of roots and grass. The height is not over three feet; and the sage-hare might easily spring over it; but the stupid creature, when once “in the pound,” never thinks of looking upward; but continues to dash its little skull against the wattle, until it is either “clubbed” by the Digger, or impaled upon one of his obsidian arrows.
Other quadrupeds, constituting a portion of the Digger’s food, are several species of “gophers,” or sand-rats, ground-squirrels, and marmots. In many parts of the Great Basin, the small rodents abound: dwelling between the crevices of rocks, or honeycombing the dry plains with their countless burrows. The Digger captures them by various wiles. One method is by shooting them with blunt arrows; but the more successful plan is, by setting a trap at the entrance to their earthen caves. It is the “figure of 4 trap,” which the Digger employs for this purpose, and which he constructs with ingenuity,—placing a great many around a “warren,” and often taking as many as fifty or sixty “rats” in a single day!
In weather too cold for the gophers to come out of their caves, the Digger then “digs” for them: thus further entitling him to his special appellation.
That magnificent bird, the “cock of the plains,” sometimes furnishes the Digger with “fowl” for his dinner. This is a bird of the grouse family (tetrao urophasianus), and the largest species that is known,—exceeding in size the famed “cock of the woods” of northern Europe. A full-fledged cock of the plains is as large as an eagle; and, unlike most of the grouse kind, has a long, narrow body. His plumage is of a silvery grey colour—produced by a mottle of black and white,—no doubt, given him by a nature to assimilate him to the hue of the artemisia,—amidst which he habitually dwells, and the berries of which furnish him with most of his food.
He is remarkable for two largegoitre-likeswellings on the breast, covered with a sort of hair instead of feathers; but, though a fine-looking large bird, and a grouse too, his flesh is bitter and unpalatable—even more so than that of the sage-hare. For all that, it is a delicacy to the Digger, and a rare one; for the cock of the plains is neither plentiful, nor easily captured when seen.
There are several other small animals—both quadrupeds and birds—inhabiting Digger-land, upon which an occasional meal is made. Indeed, the food of the Digger is sufficiently varied. It is not in the quality but the quantity he finds most cause of complaint: for with all his energies he never gets enough. In the summer season, however, he is less stinted. Then the berries of the buffalo-bush are ripe; and these, resembling currants, he collects in large quantities,—placing his rabbit-skin wrapper under the bush, and shaking down the ripe fruit in showers. Amélangeof prairie crickets and buffalo-berries is esteemed by the Digger, as much as would be the best specimen of a “currant-cake” in any nursery in Christendom!
The Digger finds a very curious species of edible bug, which builds its nest on the ledges of the cliffs,—especially those that overhang a stream. These nests are of a conical or pine-apple shape, and about the size of this fruit.
This bug,—not yet classified or described by entomologists,—is of a dark-brown colour, about the size of the ordinary cockroach; and when boiled is considered a proper article of food,—not only by the unfastidious Diggers, but by Indians of a more epicureangoût.
Besides the yampa and kamas, there are several other edible roots found in the Digger country. Among others may be mentioned a species of thistle (circium virginiarum),—the root of which grows to the size of an ordinary carrot, and is almost as well flavoured. It requires a great deal of roasting, or boiling, before it is sufficiently cooked to be eaten.
Thekooyahis another article of food still more popular among Digger gourmands. This is the root of theValeriana edulis. It is of a bright-yellow colour, and grows to a considerable size. It has the characteristic odour of the well-known plant; but not so strong as in the prepared substance ofvalerian. The plant itself does not grow in the arid soil of the desert, but rather in the rich fertile bottoms of the streams, or along the shores of marshy lakes,—in company with the kamas and yampa. It is when these roots are in season, that the Shoshokees most frequent such localities; and, indeed, this same season is the time when all other articles of Digger food are plenteous enough,—the summer. The winter months are to him the “tight times.”
In some parts of the desert country, as already observed, grow species of pines, with edible cones,—or rather edible seeds which the cones contain. These seeds resemble nuts, and are about the size of the common filberts.
More than one species of pine produces this sort of food; but in the language of the Spanish Californians and New Mexicans, they are all indifferently termedpiñon, and the seeds simplypiñones, or “piñons.” Where these are within the reach of the Digger,—as they are in some districts,—he is then well provided for; since the piñons, when roasted, not only form an agreeable and nutritious article of food, but can be stored up as a winter stock,—that will keep for a considerable time, without danger of spoiling, or growing too stale.
Such is thecommissariatof the Digger Indian; and, poor in quality though it be, there are times when he cannot obtain a sufficient supply of it. At such times he has recourse to food of a still meaner kind,—to roots, scarce eatable, and even to the seeds of several species of grass! Worms, grubs, theagama comuta, or “horned-frog of the prairies,” with other species of lizards, become his sole resource; and in the search and capture of these he occupies himself from morning to night.
It is in this employment that he finds use for the long sapling, with the hooked end upon it,—the hook being used for dragging the lizards out of clefts in the rocks, within which they have sought shelter. In the accomplishment of this, the Digger displays an adroitness that astonishes the traveller: often “jerking” the reptile out of some dark crevice within which it might be supposed to have found a retreat secure from all intruders.
Many other curious habits might be related of this abject and miserable race of human beings; but perhaps enough has been detailed, to secure them a place in the list of our “odd people.”