BLACK BESS BECOMES POPULAR IN SAN FRANCISCO.--A FAILURE AS
RANCHER.--BUYING HORSES IN OREGON. THE KLAMATH MARSH.--CAPTAIN
JACK THE MODOC
George Jones and I pulled out for San Francisco, via Los Angeles,
this being the regular mail line at this time, and we made the
trip to the City of the Golden Gate inside of a month.
As soon as we arrived at San Francisco we commenced selling our
horses at private sale. We put up at what was known as the Fashion
Stable, which was kept by a man by the name of Kinnear, whom we
found to be a perfect gentleman, and who rendered us almost
invaluable assistance in disposing of our horses. This was the
first stable that was built on Market street. As soon as our
horses were sold Jones boarded the steamer for New York. When we
separated here, having been so intimately acquainted for so long,
the separation was almost like that of two brothers, and we had
not the least idea that we would ever meet again in this world.
I remained in the city three months, not knowing what to do or
where to go. During this time I spent much of it in training Black
Bess, as I found her to be a very intelligent animal, and she
would follow me like a dog wherever I would go when she had the
saddle on, and during that winter I taught her to perform many
tricks, such as to lie down, kneel down, count ten, and tell her
age. I could throw my gloves or handkerchief down and leave her
for hours without tying her and she would stand there until I
would return, and no one could come near them or take them away,
nor would she allow a stranger to put his hand on her. One day I
came to the barn and Mr. Kinnear asked what I would take to saddle
Black Bess up and let her follow me to Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express
office and back to the stable again without touching her on the
way.
I said: "Mr. Kinnear, if it will be any accommodation to you I
will have her follow me up there and back and it will not cost you
anything."
"All right," he said, "about one o'clock come to the stable, for I
have made a bet of fifty dollars with a man from the country, that
you could make her follow you from the stable to Wells, Fargo &
Co.'s express office and back to the stable and not touch her."
Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express office was a distance of eight blocks
from the stable, and on my return I found quite a crowd there
waiting to see the performance. I threw the saddle on the mare,
put the bridle on her just as though I was going to ride, took my
whip in my hand, and started down the sidewalk and the mare walked
down the street. Montgomery street was always full of teams at
this time of the day, and also the sidewalk crowded with people,
but I walked near the outer edge. She would pick her way along the
street among those teams as well, apparently as though I was on
her back and at the same time would keep her eyes on me all the
time. On arriving at the place mentioned, I took my handkerchief
from my pocket and threw it down at the edge of the sidewalk,
walked into the office and remained five minutes or more, and when
I came out she was still standing with her head over the
handkerchief as though she was tied. I picked the handkerchief up,
started back down the sidewalk, and she took the street, keeping
her eyes on me all the time until we reached the stable. The
farmer was somewhat wiser, but about fifty dollars short in actual
cash, but vowed he would not bet again on a man's own game.
On my return several different men asked me what I would take for
her, but I informed them money would not buy her from me. Before
putting her in the stable I had her perform several tricks, and
then bow to the crowd, which by this time had grown to more than a
hundred people.
I had now lain around so long that I had become restless, as it
never did suit me to loaf about a town, so I concluded that I
would try ranching. I had enough money to buy a good ranch and
stock it, not thinking that it required any great amount of skill.
So I started up the Sacramento river to look for one. After I was
out most a month, this now being the last of February, 1867, I
found stock looking well and found a man that wanted to sell out
his stock and ranch. He had three hundred and twenty acres of land
and one hundred and fifty head of cattle, some chickens, a few
hogs, and a very few farming implements. After I had ridden around
over the ranch several days and looked at his stock, and finding
the range good, I asked his price. He wanted nine thousand
dollars. I believed that this would be a nice quiet life, and
although I did not know anything about raising stock, yet I
thought I would soon catch on as the saying goes, so I made him an
offer of eight thousand dollars, which offer he accepted. He was
to leave everything on the ranch but his bed and clothing and a
few little keep-sakes that he had about the house.
Now I started in to be an honest rancher, believing that all I
would have to do was to ride around over the range occasionally and
look after my stock, take things easy, and let my stock grow into
money, as I had heard it said that stock would while one was
asleep.
I stayed on this place until the spring of 1872, ranching with
very poor success, by which time I had learned to a certainty that
this was not my line.
When a man came along and wanted a cow I always sold him one. I
would take his note for the price and, as a rule, that was all I
ever got.
In the spring of 1875 a man named Glen came into that country from
Jefferson county, Missouri, and to him I sold my entire
possessions. I got out of that scrape by losing my time and one
thousand dollars in money, but I had five years of almost
invaluable experience in ranching and stock-raising.
In those days this was what we called a Mexican stand-off. I lost
my time and money, but had my life left. Nothing occurred during
this five years of my life more than the routine of business that
naturally belongs with this kind of life, so I will pass over it.
I had such poor success ranching that I don't like to think of it
myself, much less having it told in history.
Leaving here I went to Virginia City, Nevada. This was in the
palmy days of the Comstock, and everything was high. After looking
around for a few days and seeing that horses were valuable, I
started for Jacksonville, Oregon, to buy horses for the Virginia
City market. On my arrival at Jacksonville I met a man by the name
of John T. Miller, who was a thorough horseman, and was said to be
a great salesman, which I knew I was not myself. I could buy, but
I could not sell to advantage like some other men.
I formed a partnership with Miller, and we were not long in
gathering up eighty-five head of horses in Jackson county and
starting to market with them.
I was back to Virginia City in a few days over two months from the
time I had left there, and Mr. Miller proving to be a thorough
salesman, we soon disposed of our entire band at a good figure,
and in less than one month from the time we arrived at Virginia
City we were on our way back to Oregon.
After we returned to Jacksonville we settled up and had cleared
eleven hundred dollars each on the trip. That beat ranching all
hollow. Now Mr. Miller proposed to me that we go into horse
raising. He said he knew where there was a large tract of swamp-
land near Klamath Lake. Swamp and overflown land belonged to the
state, and this swamp-land could be bought for a dollar an acre by
paying twenty cents an acre down and twenty per cent yearly
thereafter until it was paid.
Miller being a thorough horseman, I thought I might succeed better
in the horse business than in cattle. So in company with him, I
started over to look at the land, and being well pleased with the
tract, I made application for it at once. This land was located
just on the outer edge of the Modoc Indian reservation. Miller
being acquainted with all the Modocs, he and I, after I had
concluded to settle, rode down to Captain Jack's wick-i-up, which
was a distance of two miles from where I proposed settling.
Captain Jack was the chief of the Modoc tribe, and I found him to
be a very intelligent Indian, and he made a very good stagger
towards talking the English language.
When Mr. Miller introduced me to Chief Jack--or Captain Jack as he
was called--and told him that I was going to be a neighbor to him,
he said, "All right, that's good, and we be friends, too." I told
him yes, and if the white men did not treat him well to let me
know and I would attend to it. Jack then asked Mr. Miller where
Mr. Applegate was, he being agent for the Modoc tribe, and lived
in the neighborhood of Jacksonville, Oregon. Miller told him that
he did not know. Jack said: "My people heap hungry and Applegate
no give us anything to eat, no let us leave reservation to hunt; I
don't know what I do."
Mr. Miller told Jack that he would see Applegate and tell him of
their condition. The next morning Miller started back to
Jacksonville and I remained on the land selected to be my future
home.
Every few days Jack would come to my place to ask my advice as to
what he should do, saying: "We no got anything to eat for three
moons (three months). He tell me he come bring beef. He no come,
no send beef." Finally Jack came to my camp one day and said: "I
don't know what I do, no meat, no flour, wocus nearly all gone."
I told Jack that I would go home with him and see for myself, not
knowing but that his complaints might be without foundation. I
mounted my horse, and riding over with Captain Jack, my
investigation proved to a certainty that he had been telling me
the truth all this time, for they were almost destitute of
anything to eat, there being nothing in the entire village in the
line of provisions but a little wocus, or wild rice.
Jack said: "Agent no come next week and bring something to eat, I
take all Injuns, go Tule Lake and catch fish. What you think?"
I said: "Jack, I do not know what to say, but you come home with
me and I will give you one sack of flour and I have a deer there,
I will give you half of that, and by the time you eat that up
perhaps the agent may come with provisions." A few days later Jack
came to my house and said: "Agent no come to-morrow, I go Tule
Lake, take all Injuns. Plenty fish Tule Lake, easy catch them." To
this I did not reply. I dare not advise him to leave the
reservation, and at the same time I knew they were almost in a
starving condition and were compelled to do something or sit there
and starve; and here I would say that in this case Captain Jack
was not to blame for leaving the reservation. I just state these
few facts merely to show that while the Indians are as a general
rule treacherous and barbarous, at the same time, in many cases no
doubt similar to this one, they have been blamed more than was due
them.
As the old adage goes, I believe in giving the devil his just
dues, and I do not believe that Jack would have left the
reservation at that time had he been supplied with provisions
sufficient to live on.
I do not pretend to say whose fault this was, but merely state the
facts as I know them.