STORY OF THE CAPTURED BRAVES.--WHY CAPTAIN JACK DESERTED.--
LOATHSOME CONDITION OF THE STRONGHOLD.--END OF THE WAR.--SOME
COMMENTS.
That evening I had a long conversation with Captain Jack, and from
him I learned the exact number of Indians in the cave. He said
there were twenty women, and maybe thirty children and twenty-two
warriors. He said they would not stay there long for they had
nothing to eat, and their ammunition was nearly gone.
I must admit that when I learned Jack's story of the way that he
had been both driven and pulled into this war, which I knew to be
a fact myself, I was sorry for him. He said that after the Indian
agent would not send them anything to eat he was forced to go away
from the reservation to catch fish to keep his people from
starving, for which purpose he was at the mouth of Lost river when
the soldiers came there. One morning before the soldiers fired on
him without even telling him to return to the reservation or
giving him any warning whatever. He said that he did not give
orders for his men to kill any white men that morning, but they
all got very angry at the soldiers for shooting at them. "That
day," said he, "I go to lava bed, my men scout all over country,
kill all white men they see."
After I was through talking with Jack, Gen. Wheaton sent for me to
come to his quarters, as he was anxious to learn what information
I had obtained. When I told him the number of Indians yet in the
cave and that they had nothing to eat, he asked me what would be
my plan for capturing the remainder. I told him that if I was
doing it, I would capture the entire outfit without losing a
single man, but that it would take a little time; that I would not
fire on them at all, but would double the picket line, and it
would not be many days until they would surrender, and in case
some of them did slip by the guards, we would pick them up before
they got twenty miles away.
The following morning a council was held in camp, and all the
commissioned officers were present. Now Captain Jack had been
captured, and according to reports, the other Indians were nearly
starved out, so that morning they did not open out on them at all.
The third day from this it was reported by a citizen who had
passed over the country that day, that he saw Indians up on Tule
Lake. It being late in the afternoon, nearly dark in fact, when I
heard the report and it not being from a scout, I questioned
closely the man who was said to have seen them, but did not get
much satisfaction from him, so naturally discredited the report.
But for fear there might be some truth in it, the next morning by
daybreak George Jones and I were scouring the country in the
vicinity of Tule Lake. After having ridden some little distance we
ran upon the trail of six Indians, who as we supposed had passed
the evening before, and were evidently plodding along in the
direction of Lost river. This was without doubt the trail of four
bucks and two squaws. After we had followed this trail a few miles
we found where they had stopped, built a fire, caught, cooked and
ate some fish. We knew they were not many miles ahead of us, in
fact, the fire had not entirely gone out. From here on we had
plain sailing, and the nearer an old scout gets when on the trail
of an Indian the more anxious he gets, so we sped along up the
lake four miles further, and were on them before they knew it;
they were all on the banks of the river fishing.
In this outfit there were Scarfaced Charley and Black Jim, their
squaws, and two other Indians. The moment we saw them we both drew
our pistols, but concealed them from their view by hiding them
under our coats. When we approached them they all said, "Good
morning."
I did not see any guns near them nor did either of them have
pistols. Scarfaced Charley said: "We like go reservation; too much
hungry, my squaw nearly dead, ketchem some fish her, purty soon
go."
After I had informed him that I would have to take them all back
to Gen. Wheaton's quarters, Charley said: "What for?" I said:
"Charley, I will take you all back to headquarters, give you all
plenty to eat, and when we get all the Modoc Indians they will be
taken to the reservation." "All right, me go now," said Charley,
as he started, eager to be off on the journey for headquarters.
I asked them where their guns and pistols were, and they said: "O,
me hide them in lava bed, too much heavy, no like carry." So
George Jones took the lead, the Indians followed him, and I
brought up the rear. I could see that they were very weak from
hunger, but they plodded along, encouraged by the thought of
getting something to eat at Gen. Wheaton's quarters.
We arrived there at noon, and when I turned them over to the
General and told him their names, he said: "It is with the
greatest of pleasure that I receive them. Now if I only had just
one more I would be satisfied. That one is Schonchin. I would then
have all the ring leaders."
Up to this time I had not learned what would be the fate of those
Indians directly interested in the assassination of Gen. Canby and
Col. Thomas, and I must admit that I was terribly surprised when
Gen. Wheaton informed me that they would all be hanged. From those
Indians I learned that Captain Jack and his council were not on
good terms, having had a falling out while in the cave, and they
would not speak to each other while at Gen. Wheaton's
headquarters. The cause of the trouble grew out of a proposition
by Captain Jack to surrender, and he had been talking surrender
for two weeks past, but the rest of them were in favor of fighting
to the last. Mary, the squaw, told me that they at one time came
near putting Jack to death for cowardice, and that was the reason
he had deserted them, knowing that his life was in danger in the
cave.
From this on we captured one or two Modocs every day. The fourth
day after the last band referred to was captured, one of my scouts
reported having seen Indian tracks at the head of Tule Lake, but
could not make out the exact number, I had just lain down to take
a nap, it being early in the morning, and I had been riding all
night, but George and I saddled our horses and were off for the
head of Tule Lake, Gen. Wheaton promising to send a company of
soldiers after us at once.
We struck the Indian trail about twelve miles from headquarters,
this being the first band that had escaped from the west side of
the cave.
As soon as we discovered their trail we put spurs to our horses
and sped along up the river, for the trail was plain and we
experienced no trouble in following it, and just above the Natural
Bridge on Lost river, we came on to them. Some were fishing, some
were cooking the fish they had caught, and others were eating
fish. It seemed that each one of them caught, cooked and ate their
own fish. Seeing no arms we rode up to them. There were twelve of
them, and among them was Sconchin, the other councilman who the
General was so anxious to get hold of. Sconchin said: "Go Fort
Klamath, all Injun heap hungry, now ketchem fish, eat plenty, by
and by go to fort."
I had George Jones turn and ride back to hurry the soldiers up,
for I did not deem it a safe plan for two of us to try to take the
whole crowd prisoners, for even though they had no arms they might
scatter all over the country and then we could not get them only
by killing them, and that I did not want to do. While I am in no
wise a friend to a hostile; I believe in giving even an Indian
that which is justly due him, and I must admit that all through
this Modoc war I could not help, in a measure, feeling sorry for
the Modocs, particularly Captain Jack, for I knew that through the
negligence of one agent and the outrageous attack upon Jack by the
squad of soldiers on Lost river, while there catching fish to keep
his people from starving, he had been driven and dragged into this
war, and I do not believe to-day, nor never did believe, that
Captain Jack ought to have been hanged.
I have often been asked, since, what I thought of the arrangements
Mr. Berry made for the meeting of Gen. Canby, Col. Thomas and
Captain Jack, but I have always refrained from answering that
question any farther than that it seemed to me that a school boy
ten years of age should have known better than to have made such a
bargain as he did, knowing the nature of Indians as well as he
claimed to.
But to my story--I stayed there and engaged the Indians in
conversation while George was making tracks back over the same
road that we had just come to hurry the cavalry up. I learned from
them that there were no more able-bodied men left in the cave, and
there were some twenty or thirty squaws and children, besides
several warriors that were wounded. In about an hour from the time
George started back, the soldiers made their appearance.
I told the Indians that we would have to take them prisoners and
take them back to headquarters. This, however, was not pleasant
news to them. They objected to return with us until I had informed
them that they would be fed and protected until such time as we
could get them all, and they having been acquainted with me
before, we were successful in persuading them to return peacefully
to the General's quarters.
It was late in the afternoon when we returned, and I at once
reported to the General the number of Indians, also that Schonchin
was in the gang, and that I had learned that there were no more
able-bodied men in the cave. I told him that from what I could
learn, I thought it perfectly safe for three or four men to enter
the cave and secure the few remaining Indians. The General said:
"I will think the matter over until morning."
That evening the officers held a council and it was decided that
in case the following morning was fair, Col. Miller and the
Colonel from California whose name I do not remember, myself, and
two soldiers would make the attempt to enter the cave, I going as
a guide more than anything else.
Next morning about ten o'clock when the fog had raised and the sun
came out most beautifully, we made the start for the cave.
Although I had never been inside of the cave, I had no serious
trouble in finding the main entrance to it, but we found it so
dark inside that we had to use lanterns. We had not proceeded far
until we could see the fire. I proposed to the others that as I
was acquainted with the Indians to let me advance alone, and I can
truthfully say that just such another sight I never saw before nor
since. There was a number of wounded Indians lying around; here
were the bones of their horses that they had killed and eaten, and
a smell so offensive that it was really a hard task for me to stay
there long enough to tell them what we wanted of them. As soon as
I commenced talking to them the squaws and children began making
their appearance from every direction.
I told them my business, and if they would go with me they would
be fed. They were not only willing, but anxious to go.
By this time the other men were there, and when they were all
gathered up Col. Miller sent two men back to camp for stretchers
to carry the wounded Indians to headquarters. They were all taken
out that day. I do not remember the number of wounded bucks that
were in the cave, but there were thirty-two squaws and forty
children.
Now the bloody little Modoc war that had lasted so long at the
cost of many lives, was brought to an end. This was glorious news
to the surviving ones among the volunteers, and the next day they
were making preparations to return to their respective homes, or
rather Jacksonville, where they would be discharged, and they
again could say their lives were their own. This being the last
days of June and my services not needed any more, I asked the
General when the hanging would take place. He said that it would
be about the twentieth of July.