43
THE NORTHERN CALIFORNIA INDIANS*
No. V. IThe Yuk
To the traveler arriving on the summit of the mountains, on his way eastward
from Long Valley, Mendocino County, there is presented a magnificent panorama. The
name Round Valley describes the noble domain he is in quest of; and there it lies beneath
him, encompassed around on all sides with a coronal of blue, broad-based mountains,
Which are dappled green and golden with wild-oat pasturage and shredded forest; while
the valley spreads broadly out, in its great circumference, an ocean of yellow grain
and pasture-fields, islanded with stately groves of white-oak. Blunted indeed must have
been the sensibilities of the pioneer Sam Kelsey, the trail-cutter, when, one mellow,
lilac evening at nightfall, his eyes--probably the first of all Americans--gazed down
from the summit upon this large round of meadow, and beheld all its broad sheet spangled
With Indian camp-fires, even as the heaven was studded with stars, if he did not feel
his soul kindle a little. Yes, here in the heart of California, he had stumbled upon a
little Indian empire, all unknown and untroubled yet byr the American. And yet the immediate
Occupants of this little cockaigne--the Yukas--strange to relate, are the worst of all the
Pacific Indian race, save the Apaches alone.
It is singular what an intolerable deal of pother I had in finding this people. I
heard about Yukas away over in Sacramento Valley; I heard of them again at Weaverville,
On Hay Fork, on Mad River, on Van Dusen's Fork, and all along Eel River; and always
the next tribe I was to find would be Yukas; and always when I discovered them, at last,
they were not there. I began to be skeptical of their very existence, and smiled a
Superior, incredulous smile whenever I found any body so simple-minded as to make
serious mention of Yukas. They seemed as mythical as the Fata Morgana, as phantas-
111agorical as Sinbad's great fish; but, unlike that monster, they would not remain in
One place. Even when I found them, at last, in Round Valley, I was very dubious if
they really were Yukas, so often had I gripped thin air in my investigating hand.
The reason for this is singular. The word yuka in the Wintoon language
Signifies "stranger, " and hence secondarily "bad Indian" or "thief;" and it was applied
by that people to almost all the Indians around them, just as the ancient Greeks called
all the outside world "barbarians. " There were anciently many mountain tribes
Contiguous to them who actually were "bad Indians," compared with the peaceful
Wintoons; but the latter applied the epithet so indiscriminately, that the Whites, not
troubling themselves to sift the matter, got very much confused on this subject; hence
the infinite perplexity I had for weeks. As a matter of fact, there are several tribes
Whomn both Americans and Indians call "1Yukas;" but this tribe alone acknowledge. them
*Overland Monthly, Vol. 9, pp. 305-313, 1872.
44
All about Red Bluff, in Cottonwood Creek Valley, and about Shasta City, whenever
a depredation was committed in early times, it was a ??Yukall who did it; but alas to
the simple-minded Wintoons generally smarted for it at the hands of the summary
miners. These highly unphilosophical and double-seeing aboriginals described the
"Yukas"' to me as terrific fellows, truculent giants, living on the coast mountains,
dwelling in caves and dens, horribly tattooed (which they are), and cannibals.
In Round Valley, then, live, not the Forty Thieves, but The Thieves--all
thieves--305 of them, though they formerly numbered thousands. If they ever had any
tribal name in their own language, they dropped it, and, in a spirit of braggadocio which
well comports with their character, dubbed themselves as above.
And, indeed, they are well worthy of their christening, for they are thorough
paced rascals. So double-tongued and suspicious are they that I could not even procure
their ten numerals. The Chief Clerk of the Reservation, F. A. Gibson, brought me tWO
in succession, whom he counted the most intelligent,but they chose to consider me bent
on some errand of sorcery, and lied to me with such consistency that they did not at anY
time, or by any accident, deviate into the truth. Not one of the numerals they gave me waS
correct, and I was obliged to learn them from an Indian of another tribe. Their language
is like none other in the vicinity, but singularly it is closely related to that of the
Ashochemies (Wappos), whose former habitat was in the mountains, from the Geysers
down to the Calistoga Hot Springs. Hence there are two systems of language running
parallel for more than a hundred miles--the Yuka dialects in the Coast Range, and the
Pomo dialects along Russian River Valley; though the latter break across eastward at
Ukiah, reaching to and surrounding Clear Lake. Neither the Pomos nor the WiTackees
can understand the Yukas until they study their language two or three months. Willial"
Potter, who speaks several Pomo dialects, told me he could understand only a very feW
Yuka words. The WiTackees alone appear to value their friendship at all, notwithstand
ing they fought often and fiercely; and as the two tribes join territories a little way
north of Round Valley, the intermarried a good deal, giving rise to a border progeny Wh
are calle Wi Tackee-Yukas.
It is difficult to distinguish these two races externally, except by the tattOOi9g
Both of them tattoo wavy lines in blue all over the face, including the nose; but theYU1
make the lines straight down the face, while the Wi Tackees slant them backward and
upward.
The Yukas are notable for disproportionately large heads, mounted like greg
cannon-balls on smallish bodies, with protuberant abdomens. Their eyes are rather
undersized, but keen and restless, and, from the execrable smudge in which they lives
they are often swollen and horribly protruding. Thei r noses are stout and short, the
nostrils something more oval and expanded than the American, but less than the ChineS
and they have heavy shocks of stiff, black, bristly hair, cut short, and hence bushy-be
looking. Like all California Indians, they are variously colored, without any percept
law, from yellowish-buff to brown or black. They are a tigerish, truculent, sullen,
thievish, revengeful, and every way bad, but brave race.
45
The original population of Round Valley has been variously estimated--from
5, 000 all the way to 20, 030. William Potter places it at the latter figure, but this is
manifestly too great. I am told that Sam Kelsey, the discoverer, reckoned it at 10, 000.
But let us take the lowest estimate, and we shall even then have one inhabitant to every
four acres in the valley, or 160 Indians to the square mile. This figure is startling
at first sight; but when we recollect that anciently Round Valley was one vast oat-field,
and was occupied by Indians who had usufructuary possession of ten times its area of
nut-bearing forest on the surrounding mounatins, besides a stream that swarmed with
salmon, we need not be surprised. Round Valley thus affords us a means of making
a close conjecture of the ancient population of California. Of course, the wide plains of
the interior could not maintain a population so dense as this isolated valley, with its
immense borders of acorn-bearing forest; but, considering the quantity.of wild-oats
formerly produced there, it would not be extravagant to estimate their capacity at one-
third as great as that of Round Valley. The natural oat-bearing area of the State may be
safely set down at 25, 000 square miles, which, at the rate of fifty Indians to the square
mile, would have sustained 1, 250, 000 inhabitants. In speaking of the Klamath River
Indians, in a former paper, it was computed that the salmon-streams alone, with the
nuts, roots, and game along their banks--not counting in any wild-oat lands--would
have supported a population of 270, 000. Added together, these sums aggregate
1, 520, 000 souls; which figure, no doubt, comes near the aboriginal population of
California before any European colonies were planted within it.
The Yukas construct dome-shaped sweat-houses, with only a shallow depth of
earth scooped out for the floor, though the structure is commodious, capable of contain-
ing fifty people. It is thatched with straw, and rendered air-tight with a heavy layer
of earth. The common wigwam is conical, smaller than the sweat-house, constructed
of poles and bark, and thatched in winter. Most of the northern peoples, especially on
the Klamath, make their cabins of stout puncheons, not intended to be burned down every
autumn, but permanent, leaving interstices between the pieces, and employing very
little or no thatch, while their well-sized cellars assist in protecting them from the
smoke, and so they have neat, clean eyes; but, coming as far south as Round Valley, they
MuBt have thatch, and are too shiftless to excavate cellars--hence opthalmia and blindness
prevail to a disgusting extent.
It is in the sweat-house that the candidates for the degree of M. D. pass their
competitive examination, more terrible than the contention of Doctor Cherubino and
Doctor Serafino in "The Great School of Salern." It consists simply of a dance, protracted
day and night, without cessation, until they all fall utterly exhausted, except one, who
is then entitled to practice the healing art. From physicians thus qualified, one could hardly
expect treatment equal to that of Abernethy, even when he was fuddled. For instance,
One method of procedure is as follows: The patient is placed on the ground, stark naked,
face upward, and two medicines take their stations at his feet one directly behind the
Other. Striking up a hoarse, crooning chant, they commence hopping up and down the
afflicted individual, with their legs astride of him, advancing by infinitesimal jumps all
the way up to his head, then backward to his feet. They keep close together, and hop
in unison, while the invalid lies there like a turtle and blinks at the sun.
46
There is an anniversary dance observed by the Yukas, called the Green-corn
Dance, though this manifestly dates only from the period when the Spaniards taught them
to cultivate maize. It is a joyous occasion, but, as usual, is not made a pretext for
feasting. The performers are of both sexes; the men being dressed with a breech-cloth
and a mantle of the black tail-feathers of eagles, buzzards, hawks, or owls, reaching
from the arm-pits down to the thighs, but not encumbering the arms; while the squaws
wear their finest skin-robes, strings of shells, etc., and hold gay-colored handkerchiefs
in their hands. The men hop to the music of a chant, a chorister keeping time with a
forked stick; but the squaws, standing behind their partners, simply sway themselves
backward and forward, and swing their handkerchiefs in a lackadaisical manner.
In common with all the California Indians, the Yukas entertain a vague belief
in a Supreme Being, who passes among different tribes by the name of Great Man or
Old Man; though he seems to be always weaker than the various evil spirits. But, with
the exception of the Klamath Indians and the Hoopas, who belong rather to the Oregon
Indians--apparently a different race--this conception of a Divinity is so weak, so shadoWY9
and so entirely devoid of positive and active qualities, that it seems to be an exotic
thing, as it were, an engraftment upon their aboriginal beliefs, and it leads me to suspect
that a great majority of the California Indians proper are indeb ted to the early Jesuits
for their few notions of a Creator and Preserver. Certain it is that it is inaccurate to
speak of them--as many persons do--as believing in a "Great Spirit," like the Algonquin
race; for the Indians of this State, though full of ingenious and cunning fables, are greatly
lacking in elevated, spirtual conceptions, and seek always to personify and materialize.
Hence it is that they constantly speak, in their simple way, of the"Big Man" or the Old
Man." What imagination they possess is not at all of the Hindoo type--introspective,
theological, sublime, but eminently like the Chinese-wonderfully shrewd, sly, running
on a low level, fetishistic, prone to invest brute beasts with human and divine attributes
Among the Klamath Indians and the Hoopas this Great Man is full of tangible and robust
qualities; he created the world and all its inhabitants; he alone can avert earthquakes
calamitous landslides, floods, etc., and to him they sacrifice. But among all the Indian5
south of them; whever one is closely questioned, he points upward and refers to a being
named as above; but this being takes no part in their affairs, and never did; created not,1i'
upholds nothing, has no hold on their fears or their offerings, is honored with not a
single act of worship, and seems to have no function whatever, except to rule over them
as a vague, indefinite "good Chief" in the Hereafter. In short, there are a hundred
signs which mark this being as so much waste matter in their credo, a foreign acqui-
sition, an unassimilated thing, a civilized scion grafted on a savage stock, and therefore,
though not absolutely lifeless, yet producing no fruit. From the outrageous character
of the Yukas, White Men know less about their beliefs on these matters than is known
of almost any other tribe.
Most California Indians are conspicuously lenient to their children, never
punishing them on any occasion; but the Yukas are often brutal and cruel to their women
and children, especially to the women. Thievery is a virtue with them, as it was with
the ancient Spartans, provided the thief is deft enough not to get caught. QuarrelSOmev
choleric, vengeful, they are frequently involved in murderous feuds among themselvesB
47
and were seldom off the war-path in former times, the pacific and facile Pomos being
their constant victims.
A veteran woodman related to me a small circumstance which illustrates the
remarkable memory of these savages. One time he had occasion to perform some long
labor in a certain wood where water was exceedingly scarce, and where he was
grievously tormented with thirst. He remembered to have seen a little spring somewhere
in that vicinity, and he considered it worth his while, under the circumstances, to
search for it two whole days, but without success; when there chanced to come along a
Yuka squaw, to whom he made mention of the matter. Although she had not been near
that place for six years, and probably never had seen the spring but once, like himself,
yet, without a moment' s hesitation or uncertainty, she conducted him straight to the
spot. In this country, so arid through long summer months, probably there is no other
thing of which the Indians have better recollections than of the locations of springs.
THE YUKA DEVIL.
On the Reservation there once lived an Indian who was so thoroughly bad in
every respect that he was generally known by the sobriquet of The Yuka Devil. He
committed all the seven deadly sins and a good many more, if not every day of his life,
at least as often as he could. One time he wandered off a considerable way from the
Reserve, accompanied by two of his tribal brethren, and they fell upon and wantonly
Murdered three squaws, without any known provocation whatever. They were pursued
by a detachment of the garrison, overtaken, captured, carried back, mancled hand and
foot, and consigned to the guard-house. In some inexplicable manner, The Devil con-
trived to break his fetters asunder, and then he tied them on again with twine in such
fashion, that, when the turnkey came along on a tour of inspection, he perceived nothing
alniss. Being taken out for some purpose or other soon afterward, he seized the oppor-
tunity to wrench off his manacles and escape. But he was speedily overtaken again, and
brought down with a bullet, which wounded him slightly, taken back to the guard-house,
heavily ironed, and cast into a dungeon. Here he feigned death. For four days he never
Swallowed a crumb of nutriment, tasted no water, breathed no breath that could be
discovered, and lay with every muscle relaxed like a corpse. To all human perception,
he was dead, except that his body did not become rigid or cold. At last a vessel of
Water was placed on a table hard by, information of that fact was casully imparted to him
inI his native speech, all the attendants withdrew, the dungeon relapsed into silence,
and he was secretly watched. After a long time, when profound stillness prevailed,
Sad when the watchers had begun to believe he was in a trance, at least, he cautiously
lifted up his head, gazed stealthily all around him, scrutinized every cranny and crevice
Of light, then softly crawled on all-fours to the table, taking care not to clank his chains
the while, took down the pitcher, and drank deep and long. They rushed in upon him,
btIt upon the instant--so fatuous was the obstinacy of the savage--he dropped as if
he had been shot, and again simulated death. But he was now informed that his play was
quite too shallow for any further purposes, and as soon as the gallows could be put in
Order, the executioners entered and told him plainly that the preparations were fully
0O*fpleted for his taking-off. He made no sign.
48
Then, half dragging, half carrying the miserable wretch, they conducted him
forth to the scaffold. All limp and flaccid and nerveless as he is, they lift him upon the
platform; but still he makes not the least motion, and exhibits no consciousness of all
these stern and grim preparations. He is supported in an upright position between two
soldiers, hanging a lifeless burden on their shoulders; his head is lifted up from his
breast, where it droops in heavy helpless ness; the new-bought rope, cold, and hard,
and prickly, is coiled about his neck, and the huge knot properly adjusted at the side;
the merciful cap, which shuts off these heart- sickening preparations from the eyes of
the faint and shuddering criminal, is dispensed with; and everything is in perfect
readiness. The solemn stillness befitting the awful spectacle about to be enacted, falls
upon the few spectators; the fatal signal is given; the drop swiftly descends; the s-apport-
ing soldiers sink with it, as if about to vanish into the earth and hide their eyes from the
tragedy; with a dead, dull thud the tightened rope wrenches the savage from their up-
bearing shoulders into pitiless mid-air; and The Yuka Devil, hanging there without a
twitch or a shiver, quickly passes from simulated to unequivocal and unmistakable death.
In connection with the Yukas, I will give some statistics, to show how much a
Reserved Indian is worth in annual dollars and cents. In 1871, the inmates of Round
Valley Reservation had in crop 850 acres, besides a matter of thirty acres cultivated for
themselves, and produced the following yields: wheat, 6, 476 bushels; oats, 920;barleyp
3,684; potatoes, 550; turnips, 250; corn, 1, 736; hay, 350 tons. At the ordinary market
rates of that year, these productions were worth $18, 803. Add to this the yearly increase
on 700 cattle and 400 swine--say $10,000-- which makes the total year's product $28, 803"
I was at some pains to get accurate statistics of the year's expenses of the Reservatiof
for everything, including the merchandise, medical and clothing supplies furnished to
the Indians, but not including the pay and rations of the garrison (about a company). This
expense account was $20, 751. 11. Deducting this from the entire product of the Reser-
vation industries, we have the sum of $8, 051. 89. Dividing this sum by 793, the whole
number of Indians, we have $10.15 clear money as the amount which every Indian, old
or young, made above the expenses of keeping him a year. Had it not been for the geneerou0
yield of acorns and salmon in the contiguous forests and streams, and the noble domain
of native pasturage, nourishing their great herds without money and without price--
and that to the exclusion of dozens of substantial citizens, who could have lived on these
margins which the Reserve cattle overlapped--the Government would have been out of
pocket, which it probably was anyhow, since we did not reckon the cost of the garrisonl.
And all this accomplished nothing, and less than nothing, of benefit to the savages.
Whatever of protection the California Reservations may once have afforded them against
the undiscriminating rapacity of the earlier gold-seekers, or vice versa, they have
latterly become mere lazarettos, pest-houses, which are finishing well the work that
was initiated twenty years ago with bayonet and bullet. Wien the California Indians
were once thoroughly subjugated, they were aware of that fact, and after that nothing
whatever was required but the presence of a few detachments here and there, with per"'
mission to the Indians to gather acorns and spear salmon where they would. The infiflt
happier and wholesomer condition of the savages on the Klamath is sufficient proof
of these assertions, for the Indians are like wild wood-birds: they can take care of
themselves a mighty deal better than White Men can take care of them. You may
49
fasten your linnet in a gilded cage, tuck it away never so tenderly in a nest of cotton-
wool, and cram it with sugar and things, and it will die all the more certainly.
In the Reservation estimates, about one in every six is counted an able-bodied
Indian, but they have a great deal of trouble in rallying them out afield at all. They are
as cunning as the plantation Negroes in "shamming Abraham," and it is wonderful what
a number of afflictions an Indian has in crop-time. He has a face-ache on occasion, or
an eye-ache, or he has swallowed a frog, or he has cracks between his toes. In a pinch
Of work they sometimes call out the squaws, and one of them generally gets through as
much in one day as a brave does in a fortnight or a month. The squaws carried to
the granary on their backs the entire corn-crop--1, 736 bushels--in three days, each
squaw averaging about six bushels per day.
On the Hoopa Reservation, Mrs. Ida Wells was giving the best endeavors of
a noble Christian matron to the instruction of the children, in day-schools and Sunday-
schools, wearying not through all the week. She had infinite difficulty in inducing the
indifferent savages to come to the Sunday-school, and only succeeded at last in enticing
them thither by the promise of a lickerish luncheon; but after the school had been in
progress many months,still the ruling Indian passion was so strong that she dared not
Withdraw the post-Biblical dough-nuts. The religious instruction was wisely limited to
the recital, in simple phrasing, of some old human story from the Bible; and such is
the fondness of all fresh and healthy natures for narrative, that the children talked all
the week among themselves of the matter that was rehearsed to them. Mrs. Wells
Played for them little melodies on a family organ, and the young savages equaled the
Southern pickaninnies in "the gold old times" of the plantations, or in the more recent
and lamentable epoch of "Shoo, fly," in the endless repetition with which they trolled
these ditties over and over through the week, to the mighty weariness of the listeners.
In Hoopa there was a school-house of sufficient commodiousness, but at the
Round Valley Reservation, for lack of the same, the youthful disciples were compelled
to sit under the reat, overshadowing branches of the white-oaks, after the fashion of
the Platonists long ago in the olive groves of Academus. But on a frosty and nipping
Morning, such as that when I was present, they preferred to sit sheer in the sun, for
a California Indian has an Ethiopian fondness for caloric. Mrs. Gibson, wife of the
agent--perfect type of that good and notable Methodist minister's wife who can fricassee
the Sabbath fowl no whit less worthily than. she leads in her husband's congregational
choir, or performs the sweet and gentle minor ministrations of his wide-scattered flock--
had them arrayed along on boards stretching from log to log, in old-time camp-meet-
ing fashion; and she caused them to do a lesson, that I might listen. It was a highly
Picturesque regiment--I doff my apologetic hat to their excellent commander--like
to that ever-remembered company of Jack Falstaff's, who possessed only a shirt and
a half among them; though the little pudding-sack faces, so wise-looking with that
Premature gravity of the Indian, and those dark, shining eyes, were very pleasant
to see. The captain of a company--Pitt River, Eel River, or what not--would sonorously
Spell the word "I C-a-t, " and they would all with one accord ejaculate "Cat."  They
Would read, "The cow can run in the lot," pausing after each word for the others to
follow suit, which they did mechanically, though, I warrant, a great majority of them
had not the remotest apprehension of the unrestricted potentiatlity of the female bovine
quadruped's coursing with celerity in the inclosure.
Mrs. Gibson tried to induce some of her little pets, who were able to show
better things than this mere parroting after the captain, to do a lesson alone; but they
hung down their heads, screwed themselves about on the boards, and sucked their thumbs
with a highly refreshing naturalness. One little, lively, beady-eyed shaver accomplished
the following quite by himself, "h-a, haystack."
After seeing the facility with which many of these little fellows learned to
print letters on a slate, or to write their names, I am surprised that the California
Indians have no picture-writing and no ornamental carving. In such purely objective
studies as these, Indian children not infrequently slip their heads into the noose quicker
than W~hite children. Like all Turanian races, they are more imitative than inventive.
The Shumeias lived on the extreme upper waters of Eel River, opposite
Potter Valley, and were Yukas in every respect, except in name, being sometimes
called Spanish Yukas, for the reason, that, living farther south than those in Round
Valley, they adopted a number of Spanish words and usages. In the Pomo language, the
word shumeia is said to signify "stranger," and, secondarily, "thief" or "enemy."
Some writer has finely remarked that it is a good commentary on our civilization, that,
in frontier parlance, "stranger" is synonymous with "friend." In the Indian tongues,
however, it seems to be generally tantamount to "enemy.  The Pomos regard this
branch of the Yukas very much as the Wintoons do the main people, as is shown by the
name given them. Both branches were ever on the war-path against their peaceful and
domestic neighbors, and the brunt of their outrageous and wantonirruptions generally
fell on the Potter Valley Pomos, because the mountains here interposed slighter obstacles
to their passage. At the head of Potter Valley the water-shed is quite low, and the
pass is easy, and could readily be traversed by heavy masses of civilized troops. On
the summit of it, a rod or two from a never-failing spring, there is to this day a
conspicuous cairn, which was heaped up by the Indians to mark the boundary; and if
a member of either tribe was caught beyond it, he suffered death. When the Shumeias
wished to challenge the Pomos to battle, they took three little sticks, cut notches around
their ends and in the middle, tied them in a fagot, and deposited the same on this cairns
If the Pomos took up the gauntlet, they tied a string around the middle notches, and
returned the fagot to its place. Then the heralds of both tribes met together on the
neutral territory of the Tahtoos--a little tribe living at the foot of the pass--and arrange
the time and place for the battle, which took place accordingly. William Potter, the
pioneer of Potter Valley, says they fought with conspicuous bravery, employing bows
and arrows and spears at long range, and spears or casual clubs when they came to a
square, stand-up fight in the open. They not infrequently charged upon each other inl
heavy, irregular masses, but not with "that terrible silence" wherewith Wellington's
grenadiers used to go after the French.
The following almost incredible occurence was narrated to me by a reSponsil
citizen of Potter Valley, and corroborated by another, both of whose names could be
given, if necessary:
51
STORY OF BLOODY ROCK. ,
After the Americans became so numerous in the land that the Indians began to
Perceive that they were destined to be their greatest foes, the Shumeias abandoned their
ancient hostility to the Pomos, and sought to enlist them in a common crusade against
the new-come and more formidable enemy. At one time a band of them passed the
boundary-line in the defile and came down to the Pomos of Potter Valley; and, with
presents, and many fair words, and promises of eternal friendship, and with speeches of
flaming barbarian eloquence, and fierce denunciation of the bloody-minded intruders,
Who sacrificed every thing to their sordid hankering for gold, tried to kindle these "tame
villatic fowl" to the pitch of battle. But the Pomos held their peace; and after the
1umeias were gone on their way, they hastened to the Americans and divulged the matter,
telling them what the Shumeias were hoping and plotting. So the Americans resolved
to nip the sprouting mischief in the bud; and fitted out a company of choice fighters, went
over on Eel River, fell upon the Shumeias, and hunted them over mountains and through
canons with sore destruction. The battle everywhere went against the savages, though
they fought heroically-falling back from village to village, from gloomy gorge to gorge,
disputing all the soil with their traditional valor, and sealing with ruddy drops of blood
the possessory title-deeds to it they had received from Nature.
But, of course, they could not stand against the scientific weapons, the fierce
and unresting energy, and the dauntless bravery of the Americans; and with sad and
bitter hearts they saw themselves falling, one by one, by dozens, by scores, all their
bravest dropping around them, fast going out of existence. The smoke of burning
Villages and forests blackened the sky at noonday, warping and rolling over the mount-
ains; and at night the flames snapped their yellow tongues in the face of the moon; while
the wails of dying women, and of helpless babes brained against a tree, burdened the
air.
At last, a band of thirty or forty--that was as near the number as my inform-
ants could state--became separated from their comrades, and found themselves fiercely
Pursued. Hemmed in on one side, headed off on another, half-crazed by sleepless nights
and days of terror, the flying savages did a thing which was little short of madness.
They escaped up what is now known as Bloody Rock--an isolated bowlder, standing
grandly out scores of feet on the face of the mountain, and only accessible by a rugged,
narrow cleft in the rear, which one man could defend against a nation. Once mounted
upon the summit, the savages discovered they had committed a deplorable mistake,
and must prepare for death, since the rifles in the hands of the Californians could knock
them off in detail. A truce was proclaimed by the Americans, and a parley was called.
S01ne one able to confer with the Indians advanced to the foot of the majestic rock,
and told them they were wholly in the power of their pursuers, and that it was worse
than useless to resist. He proffered them the choice of three alternatives: either to
Continue the fight, and be picked off one after another; or to continue the truce, and
Perish from hunger; or to lock hands and plunge down from the bowlder. The Indians
Were not long in choosing; they did not falter, or cry out, or whimper. They resolved
tO die like men. After consulting but a little while, they replied that they would lock
hands and leap down from the rock.
A little time was granted them wherein to make themselves ready. They
advanced in a line to the brow of the mighty bowlder, joined their hands together, then
commenced chanting their death-song, and the hoarse, deathly rattle floated down far
and faint to the ears of the waiting listeners. For the last time they were looking upon
their beloved valley of Eel River, which lay far beneath them in the lilac distance; and
upon those golden, oat-covered, and oak-dappled hills, where they had chased the deer
in happy days forever gone. For the last time they beheld the sweet light of the sun--
that sun which the California Indian loves so well--shine down on the beautiful world;
and for the last time the wail of his hapless children ascended to the ear of the Great
One in heaven. As they ceased, and the weird, unearthly tones of the dirge were heard
no more, there fell ypon the little band of Americans a breathless silence, for even
the stout hearts of those hardy pioneers were appalled at the thing which was about to be
done. The Indians hesitated only a moment. With one sharp cry of strong and grim
human suffering, which rang out strangely and sadly wild over the echoing mountains,
they leaped down to their death.