The wild game consists of deer and elk, which are still abundant and furnish subsistence; and, until these people sold their birthrights and received in exchange therefor clothing and blankets,--a mere mess of pottage,--afforded material for warming their bodies. These sources of supply, together with the wild fowls, which congregate in innumerable quant.i.ties, all go to make up a country well adapted to wild Indian life, requiring but reasonable exertion to secure subsistence and clothing.
Although the country is high and cold, and the major portion covered in winter with deep snows, there are small valleys and belts of country where snow never lies on the ground for any considerable length of time, and the stock cattle and horses live through the winter without care.
When the railroad shall have been built, connecting the lake country with the outside world, it will afford large supplies of fish, game, wild fowls, eggs, feathers, ice, and lumber of the choicest kinds. Already has the keen eye of the white man discovered its many inducements and tempting offers of business.
Big Klamath lake is twenty miles wide and forty miles long; a most beautiful sheet of water, dotted with small islands. Its average depth is, perhaps, forty feet, surrounded on two sides with heavy forests of timber; on the others, with valleys of sure and productive soil, when once science shall have taught the people how to accommodate the agriculture to the climate. This lake has a connection with those below, called Link river, a short stream of but four miles, through which vast volumes of water find outlet, over sweeping rapids, falling at the rate of one hundred feet to the mile.
The power that wastes itself in Link river would move machinery that would convert the immense forests into merchandise, and put music into a million spindles, giving employment to thousands of hands who are willing to toil for reward.
Nature has also favored this wonderful country with steam-power beyond comparison; great furnaces under ground, fed by invisible hands, send the steam through rocky fissures or escape-pipes to the surface. Near Link river, two of these escape-pipes emit the stifling steam constantly.
Approaching cautiously, a sight may be had of the boiling waters beneath.
Lower down the hill it arises in a stream, sufficient to run a saw-mill, coming out boiling hot, and flowing away in rippling current. Along the banks of this stream flowers bloom the year round, and vegetation is ever green for several rods from the banks. The scene from the ridge on the north that overlooks Link valley is one of rare beauty.
Standing in snow two feet deep, on a cold morning in December, 1869, my eyes first took in the landscape. Surrounded by lofty pines, and, looking southward, we caught sight of the Lost river county, the home of the Modocs, bathed in sunshine, clear, cold sunshine; the almost boundless tracts of sage-brush land, stretching away to the foot of the Cascade mountains on the right, until sage-brush plain was lost in pine-wood forest. On the left front we caught sight of Tu-le lake, lying calmly beneath its crystal covering of glittering ice; and, still left, Lost-river mountains, and beside them the stream whose water drank up the blood of many battles in times past. Following its line toward its source, we see a mountain cleft in twain to make pa.s.sage for the waters of Clear lake, after they have tunnelled Saddle mountains for ten miles, and come again to human sight.
We had been so entertained with the splendor of the winter scene, that we had overlooked its grandest feature, until our fretful horses, which had caught sight of it before we had, became restless and impatient to bathe their icy hoofs in the beautiful valley at our feet, and refused longer to wait for us to paint on our memory the panorama.
Dismounting, we, too, caught sight of one of nature"s wonderful freaks.
Down below us, in the immense amphitheatre, we discovered columns of steam rising from the smooth prairie hill-side, ascending in fantastic puffs, and mixing with the atmosphere; sometimes cut off, by sudden gusts of cold winds, into minute clouds, that swing out and lose themselves in strange company of fiercer breath from the mountains covered with snow and ice.
Look again to the right, and see the constant steam vapor that comes with hot breath from the boiling spring, where it runs in grandeur, and gradually warms the soil and shrubbery that surrounds its channel.
Following the curve of this stream, see the clouds of steam decrease as it flows out on the plain, until, at last, its warm breath is lost to sight in the high tule gra.s.s of Lower Klamath lake. Come back along the line and see the fringe of gra.s.s and flowers that exult in life, despite the winter"s cold; and other of nature"s children, too, are standing with feet in the soft banks, and inhaling the warm breath. See the long line of sleek cattle and horses that have driven away the mule, deer and antlered elk, and now claim mastership of what G.o.d has done for this strange valley. Even dumb brutes enjoy this refuge from the cold storms of the plains; thus cheating old winter out of the privilege of punishing them.
Yielding to the importunity of our restless steed, we remount, and, giving rein, are carried rapidly down the mountain side, at a pace that would be dangerous on clumsy eastern ponies, until reaching the valley, and feeling the soft turf beneath us, we improve the invitation to warm our hands at this gentle outlet to one of nature"s seething caldrons.
Gathering a bouquet of wild flowers from this fairy garden, surrounded by snows and ice, we resume our journey, for we are now bound for the home of Captain _Jack_.
CHAPTER XIX.
MODOC BLOOD UNDER A FLAG OF TRUCE--SEED SOWN TWENTY YEARS BEFORE A HARVEST.
Since we are now en route to the Modoc country, and since they have taken a place in modern history as a warlike people, and have enrolled their names on the record of stirring events, it is well to give them something more than a pa.s.sing notice.
In so doing, I shall confine my remarks to such facts as have come under my own observation, and also those that are well authenticated. In memory of the late tragedy in the "Lava Beds," in which I so nearly lost my life, I approach this subject with a full determination to present the facts connected therewith in a fair and impartial manner, without fear of criticism from the enemies of the red man, or a desire to court undue favor from his friends.
The Modocs are a branch from a once powerful tribe of the Pacific coast, and known as "La-la-cas," inhabiting the country drained by Klamath river and lakes, also including the "Lost-river Basin," and extending inland from the coast proper about three hundred miles, covering the territory of what is now Siskiyou county, Cal., and parts of Jackson and Josephine counties, of Oregon. They were warlike, as most uncivilized nations are, when they become powerful. Surrounded with peoples of similar character, they were often on the "warpath."
The history of the great battles fought by the La-la-cas of olden time is a fruitful subject for Indian stories by the descendants of the Klamaths and Modocs; and from them, years ago, I learned about the rebellion so nearly cotemporaneous with the American Revolution.
That rebellion sprang from causes so nearly of the same kind as those which prompted our forefathers to take up arms against Great Britain, that the coincidence is strange indeed, though it could not have any connection with the white man"s war. To those who have given the subject of Indian history a careful study, it is not new, that, while a monarch exercised arbitrary power across the Atlantic, and dictated government and law to the American colonies, many petty monarchs, also claiming the hereditary right to rule on the strength of royalty and blood, were the governing nations on the continent of America. This kind of royalty seems to have been acknowledged and disputed by turns, for many generations; and, perhaps, the La-la-cas may have pa.s.sed through as many revolutions as enlightened political organizations, though no other history than tradition has made a record thereof. At all events it is part of the history of the Modocs and Klamaths, that feuds and revolutions have been of common occurrence, growing out of the desire for power. After all, human nature is pretty much the same in all conditions of society, without regard to color or race.
The office of chief, among Indians of former times, was to the chieftain what the crown was to a king. The function of chieftain among semi-civilized Indians of to-day is to him what the office of President is to General Grant, or it may be likened to the position of Louis Philippe a few years ago, half attained through royal right, and half by force or consent of the governed.
This comparison is apropos according to the status of traditional and hereditary law.
With the La-la-cas, one hundred years ago, the prerogative of royalty, though, perhaps, acknowledged in the abstract, was often disputed in the distribution of honors.
This "bone of contention," so fruitful of blood with civilized nations, was one of the princ.i.p.al and moving causes of the separation of a band of La-la-cas, who are now known as Modocs, from the tribe who are now called Klamaths.
There is a curious resemblance between the political customs of savage and civilized nations. The royal house from whence came the hero of the Modoc war--Captain Jack--was not exempt from the contentions common to royal households, and it may be said, too, that while the branch to which he belonged had furnished their quota of braves for many wars, they resisted the taxes levied on them, and at last openly rebelled, and separated from their ancient tribe on account of the exactions of tyrannical chiefs.
That my readers may properly understand the subject now under consideration, it is well to state, in a general way, that Indian nations, singularly enough, follow in the footsteps of the people of Bible history.
Whether they derive the custom from traditional connection or not, I leave to antiquarians to answer.
Every nation is divided into tribes, and tribes are divided into bands, and bands into smaller divisions, even down to families; each nation has, or is supposed to have, a head chief; each tribe a chief; each band a sub-chief; and so on, down, until you reach family relations.
Each tribe, band, and even family, has in times of peace an allotted home, or district of country that they call their own. They claim the privileges that it affords, and are very jealous of any infringement on their rights.
The Modocs inhabited that portion of country know, as "Lost-river Basin,"--perhaps forty miles square,--lying east of the foot of "Shasta b.u.t.te," possessing many natural resources for Indian life. It is doubtful whether any other country of like extent affords so great and so varied a supply as this district.
Lost river is a great fishing country, affording those of a kind peculiar to Tule lake and Lost river, in so great abundance as to be almost beyond belief.
But to resume the history of this band of Modocs. At or about the time indicated as cotemporaneous with "the great event" in American civilized history, the head chief of all the La-la-cas demanded of Mo-a-doc-us, the chief of the Lost-river band of the La-la-cas, not only braves for the warpath, but also that supplies of fish from Lost river should be furnished.
This demand was refused. Following the refusal, war was declared; and Mo-a-doc-us issued his declaration of independence, throwing off his allegiance from and to the head chief of the La-la-cas. The war that followed was one of a character similar in some respects to the American Revolution; the one party struggling to hold power, the other fighting for freedom,--for such it was in reality.
[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTAIN JACK.]
The Modocs and Klamaths tell of many battles fought, and brave men killed; how the survivors pa.s.sed their allotted time in mourning; how, at last, the La-la-cas were defeated; and though no formal acknowledgment or recognition of the independence of Mo-a-doc-us was ever bulletined to the world, yet it was, in modern political language, "an accomplished fact."
The followers of the La-la-cas have since been termed Klamaths.
Without tracing the history of the Mo-a-docs through their many wars, I pa.s.s over the intervening feuds until 1846, at which time they numbered six hundred warriors, and were subdivided into bands, governed by "Schonchin," a head chief, although his authority seems even then to have been disputed, on the ground that he was not a legitimate descendant of the great Mo-a-doc-us, and consequently not of royal blood. He won his position as chief by his great personal bravery in battle.
The father of Captain Jack was the former chief of the Lost-river Modocs.
He was killed in battle with the Warm Spring and Te-ni-no Indians, near the head-waters of the Des-chutes river, in Oregon, at which time Ki-en-te-poos (Captain Jack) was a small boy.
I have taken some pains to ascertain reliable data as to the parentage and birthplace of a man whose name has been on every tongue for the past year, and state, most positively, that Captain Jack"s parents were both Modocs of royal blood, and that Captain Jack was born on Lost river, near the "Natural Bridge," and very near the ground on which was fought the first battle of the late Modoc war; and, further, that he never lived with any white man; that he never has learned to speak any other than the language of the ancient La-la-cas, or Mo-a-docs, although he may have understood many words of the English tongue.
You will have observed that the regard for royal honors was not extinct at the time of the death of Jack"s father, who seems to have left in the hearts of his people the ambition to restore the ancient order of things, by re-establishing the hereditary right to the chieftainship. This sentiment, thus perpetuated, undoubtedly found a lodgment in the heart of the boy, Ki-en-te-poos.
To resume the review of the first war: As told by white men, it would appear that a wanton thirst for blood impelled the Modocs to murder defenceless emigrants. I doubt not that many innocent persons lost their lives; still, with my knowledge of Indian character, I am not ready to say that provocation was wanting. While I would be careful in making up my estimate on the validity of Indian statements, I am still willing that the Modocs" side of the causes of the first wars should be heard.
Old Chief Schonchin says that it grew out of a misunderstanding as to the ident.i.ty of the _Modocs_, _Snakes_, and _Pitt-river_ Indians. The emigrants had difficulties with the Snake Indians, through whose country they pa.s.sed in reaching Oregon and California; and that he never knew what was the cause of the first troubles between them. The Snake Indians captured horses and mules from the emigrants, and sold them, or gambled them, to the Pitt-river Indians, who in turn transferred them, through the same process, to the Modocs; and that the animals found by emigrants in possession of the Modocs were recaptured, and hence war was at last brought about. The story seems plausible, and is certainly ent.i.tled to some respect, coming, as it does, from a man of the character of old Chief Schonchin. I know there is a disposition to discredit any statement made by an Indian, simply because he _is an Indian_, and more particularly when it comes in conflict with our prejudices to accept it as the truth. Some white men are ent.i.tled to credit; others are not. So it is with Indians, and, if it were possible, the disparity is even greater among them than among white men.
Chief Schonchin, of whom I am speaking, commands respect from those who know him best, and have known him longest. He does not deny that he was in the early wars; that he did all in his power to exterminate his enemies.
In speaking of the wars with white men, he once remarked, in an evening talk around a camp-fire: "I thought, if we killed all the white men we saw, that no more would come. We killed all we could; but they came more and more, like new gra.s.s in the spring. I looked around, and saw that many of our young men were dead, and could not come back to fight. My heart was sick. My people were few. I threw down my gun. I said, I will not fight again. I made friends with the white man. I am an old man; I cannot fight now. I want to die in peace." To his credit be it said, that no act of his, since the treaty of 1864, has deserved censure. He is still in charge of the loyal Modocs, at Yai-nax station, grieving over the waywardness of his brother John and Captain Jack.
He was not in the "Ben Wright" affair, although he was near when the ma.s.sacre occurred. His reason for not being present was because he mistrusted that treachery was intended on the part of Wright; and, further, that a "treaty of peace" was proposed by him, which was to be accompanied with a feast, given by the white man; but that the talk was "too good,"--"_promised too much_,"--and that, suspicious of the whole affair, he kept away; that forty-six Modocs accepted the invitation to feast with their white brethren, and that but five escaped the wholesale butchery. Of these five, the last survivor was murdered, June, 1873, during the cowardly attack on Fairchild"s wagon, containing the Indian captives, near Lost river, after the surrender of Captain Jack.
Now, whether the Indian version of the Ben Wright affair is correct, or not, that forty Indians were killed while under a flag of truce in the hands of white men of the Ben Wright party, in 1852,--_there can be no doubt_. The effects of this act can be traced all the way down from that day to this, and have had much to do with making the Modocs a revengeful people.
The friends of Ben Wright deny that he committed an act of treachery; yet there are persons in California who state positively that he _purchased strychnine previous to his visit to the Modoc country, with the avowed intention of poisoning the Indians_. Others, who were with him at the time of the ma.s.sacre, testify that _he made the attempt at poisoning_, and finally, abandoning it, he resorted to the "peace talk" to accomplish his purpose. The excuse for this unwarrantable act of treachery was to punish the Modocs for the murdering of emigrants at b.l.o.o.d.y Point, a few days previous.
This unparalleled slaughter was perpetrated on the sh.o.r.e of Tu-le lake, in September, 1852. It occurred directly opposite the "Lava Bed," at a point where the emigrant road touches the sh.o.r.e of the lake, after crossing a desert tract of several miles, and where the mountains forced the road to leave the high plains to effect a pa.s.sage. For several hundred yards the route ran along under a stony bluff, and near the waters of the lake. The place was well-adapted for such h.e.l.lish purposes.