THE YAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS.

It is now pretty generally known that there are many _deserts_ in 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 all _deserts_. 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 the _llano 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 Fe 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

the _yucca_, 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 (_mimosas_ and _acacias_), the

"stink-wood" or _creosote plant_ (_kaeberlinia_), the "grease-bush"

(_obione canescens_), several kinds of _prosopis_, and now and then, as

if to gratify the eye of the tired traveller, the tall flowering spike

of the scarlet _fouquiera_. 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 the _artemisia_ plant,

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 the _Sierra 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 as _mesas_,

or "table-mountains," and by this very name it is distinguished among

the colonists of the Cape.

The _Llano estacado_, already mentioned, is often styled a "mesa," but

its elevation is inconsiderable when compared with the _mesa_ mountains

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 truncated _table-like_ tops, 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 the _juniperus

virginiana_ of 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 of _mezquite_; all of them species of

the extensive order of the _leguminosae_, and belonging to the several

genera of _acacias_, _mimosas_, and _robinias_. In many places

_cactacae_ appear 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, or

_artemisia_. 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,--the _Utahs_

and _Snakes_, or _Shoshonees_. 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 far _odder_ people than either,--for

the _Yamparicos_, 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, the _digging 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 uncertain _criteria_

where 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 of _Paiute_, 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 as _eggs_. 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 no _nomade_, 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, the _Shoshokee_ offers a

striking contrast to the _Shoshonee_. 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 the _Spanish 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 the _carnivals_ of 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 to _plant_ or _sow_.

The Diggers, however, if they know not how to _sow_, may be said to

understand something about how to _reap_, since _root-digging_ is 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 true _Dead 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 termed _food_,

yet there are a few articles within his reach upon which a human being

_might_ subsist,--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 as _algarobia_ trees; 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 the _bread_ of 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 the _root-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 a _wooden 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 phrase _stone boilers_ will 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.

The _kamas_ roots 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 often _does_ starve,--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 the _gryllus_ tribe, 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 of _Prairie-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 the _pseudo-prophet_ of 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 the

_gryllus migratorius_ of 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 the _gryllus 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 Diggers _cook_ their 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 the _debris_ of the fire has been removed.

The prairie cricket is not the only article of the _flesh-meat_ kind,

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 the _lepus 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 the _artemisia_ bushes 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 a _pit_, but into a _pound_. 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 the _jaws_ of

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 large _goitre-like_ swellings 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. A _melange_ of 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 epicurean _gout_.

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.

The _kooyah_ is another article of food still more popular among Digger

gourmands. This is the root of the _Valeriana 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 of _valerian_. 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 termed _pinon_, and the seeds simply _pinones_, or

"pinons." Where these are within the reach of the Digger,--as they are

in some districts,--he is then well provided for; since the pinons, 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 the _commissariat_ of 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, the _agama 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."

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