OVER THE FALLS——FIRST ELECTION.
Taking up our narrative, let us resume our journey to Klamath Agency,
accompanied by O-che-o and a few of his head men; Tah-home and Ka-ko-na
taking charge of the loose stock, and riding, for once in their lives, _a
la_ white people, side by side. This was a sad day to them; they were,
human-like, more ardently in love than ever, as the hour for departure
approached.
The route from Yai-nax to Klamath Agency follows down the valley of
Sprague’s river for twenty miles, over rich prairies skirted with timber.
To the eye it is a paradise, walled in on the north and south by ranges of
mountains five miles apart, traversed by a stream of clear water, and
covered with bunch-grass and wild flax. It is the natural pasture land of
elk, who run in bands of fifty to one hundred over its beautiful plains.
Leaving the river, the road crosses a range of low hills passing down to
Williamson’s river,——a connecting link between the “Great Klamath Marsh”
and “Big Klamath Lake.” At the crossing it is one hundred yards wide; the
ford being on the crown of a rocky ledge of twenty feet in width, over
which the water thirty inches’ depth runs very swiftly, and falls off
about two feet into deeper water below. The Indians cross on their ponies
without fear; but white men with trembling limbs, with an Indian on each
side. We made the trip with a silent prayer to Heaven for safety as we
went through. Not so, however, with the driver of one of our six-mule
teams. The wagon was partly loaded with infantry soldiers, who were
returning to Fort Klamath from some duty, and had been granted the
privilege of riding. The driver, when about midway, became dizzy, and for
the moment panic-stricken and wild; drew the leaders’ line so strongly
that, mule-like, they jumped off into the boiling flood below. The
soldiers leaped from the wagon before it crossed the precipice.
Soon the six mules and the driver were struggling in thirty or forty feet
depth of water. The wagon rolled over and over down the water-covered,
rocky slope, finally resting on the bottom. The driver and five mules were
saved by the heroism of a quiet little fellow named Zip Williams. He had
driven his team through, and was out of danger. Seeing the other going
over the falls, he quitted his own, and throwing off his boots, drawing
his knife and clasping it between his teeth, he rushed among the
struggling mass of floundering mules, and succeeded in cutting the
harness, thereby liberating five of the animals. The remaining one,
attached to the wagon tongue, being tall, would touch the bottom with his
hind feet occasionally, and, with his head and front feet out of water a
portion of the time, would plead earnestly for succor; but his struggles
were so furious that even the heroic Zip could not extricate him. Those
present witnessed with regret this brave old mule sink beneath the flood.
The wagon and part of the harness were recovered, and also the “big-wheel
mule;” but the latter “was not of much account,” as Zip expressed it,
“except to make a big Indian feast,” to which purpose he was applied.
From Williamson river our route lay through a heavy forest. The agency is
situated on the east side of a small river which rises at the foot of a
long ridge extending west to the Cascade Mountains. This stream runs
several thousand inches of water, and would afford immense power. The
buildings were made of logs, and are arranged in a row, one hundred feet
apart, resembling one side of a street. The long row of twenty whitewashed
houses fronting east was a welcome sight for those of our party who had
for three months been almost entirely out of society, and, in fact, away
from civilization.
Klamath Agency is new, it having been established in 1865; the Indians who
occupy it numbering, in 1869 (the time of my first official visitation),
fourteen hundred. They are “Klamaths,” “Modocs,” “Yahooshin,” “Snakes,”
“Wal-pah-pas,” and “Shoshone Snakes.” The Klamaths number seven hundred.
They were the original owners of the country; have never been engaged in
wars against the white race.
They are a brave, enterprising, and ambitious people. In former times they
were often in the warpath against other Indian tribes; and among their
ancient enemies are those who now occupy the country in common with them.
The practice of calling the Indians together for a “big talk” on occasions
of the visits of officials was also observed in this instance.
This agency has been under the management of Lindsay Applegate, of
Oregon,——a man who was well qualified by nature, and a long residence on
the frontier, for the office.
He had taken charge of them when they were only savages; and, during the
short time he was in power, he, with the assistance of his subordinates,
had advanced them greatly in civilization. Under his tuition they had
abandoned the old hereditary chieftainships, and had elected new chiefs by
popular vote.
They were slow to yield to the new plan; but when the election was
ordered, they entered into the contest with earnestness and enthusiasm.
The manner of voting did not admit of ballot-box stuffing,——no mistake
could occur,——but so natural is it to cheat and corrupt the great
franchise, that even those wild Indians made clumsy imitation of white
demagogues.
There were two candidates for the office of head chief,——each anxious for
election, as in fact candidates always are, no matter of what race. They
made promises,——the common stock in trade everywhere with people hunting
office,——of favors and patronage, and even _bought votes_.
This, the first election on this Reservation, was one of great excitement.
There was wire-working and intriguing to the last minute. When the
respective candidates walked out and called for votes, each one’s
supporters forming in line headed by the candidate, the result was soon
declared, and Bos-co-pa was the lucky man.
Agent Applegate named him “David Allen;” but, Indian like, they transposed
the names and called him “Allen David,” by which name he is known and has
become, to some extent, identified with the recent Modoc war. He is a man
of commanding appearance, being over six feet in height, large,
well-developed head, naturally sensible, and, withal, highly gifted as an
orator and diplomat.
He had met our party as we came in with O-che-o’s band of “Shoshone
Snakes,” and, on our arrival at Yai-nax, had come on home in advance to
prepare his people for the big council talk. He called them together the
day after our arrival.
The weather was cold,——the ground covered with a few inches of snow. Allen
David’s people began to assemble. Look from the office window on the
scene: here they come, of all ages less than a century; some very old
ones, lashed on their horses to prevent them falling off; others who were
blind, and one or two that had not enjoyed even the music of the
_thunder-storm_ for years; others, again, whose teeth were worn off smooth
with the gums. Not one of the motley crowd was _bald_; indeed, I never saw
an Indian who was. They came in little gangs and squads, or families,
bringing with them camp equipages.
As each party arrived they pitched their camps. In the course of the day
several hundred had come to see the “New tyee.” Some were so impatient
they did not wait to arrange camp, but hurried to pay honors to their new
chief. They brought not only the old, the young, their horses and dogs,
but also their troubles of all kinds,——old feuds to be raked up, quarrels
to be reopened, and many questions that had arisen from time to time, and
had been disposed of by the agent, whose verdict they hoped might be
reversed.
The camp at nightfall suggested memories of Methodist camp meetings in the
West.
Here and there were little tents or lodges, and in front of some of them,
and in the centre of others, fires were built, and round them, sitting and
standing, long-haired, dusky forms, and, in a few instances, the children
lashed to boards or baskets.
I have selected this agency and these people to quote and write from, with
the intention of mentioning, more in detail, the characteristics of the
real Indian, in preference to any other in Oregon, for the reason that
minutes and reports in my possession, of the councils, are more complete;
also, because the people themselves present all the traits peculiar to
their race. To insure the comfort of the people large pine logs were
hauled up with ox-teams, with which to build fires, the main one being one
hundred feet in length, and several logs high, and when ablaze, lighted up
the surrounding woods, producing a grand night-scene, with the swarthy
faces on each side changing at the command of the smoke and flames.
My reader may not see the picture because of my poverty of language to
describe it. Suffice it to say, that these people were there to see and
hear for themselves. Men, women and children came prepared to “stay and
see it out,” as frontier people say.
While preparations for the council were being made, a portion of the
department teams, which we had used on the Snake expedition, was
despatched for Warm Springs Reservation.
A high dividing ridge of the Blue Mountains separates the waters of the
Klamath basin from Des Chutes and Warm Spring country.
The snows fall early on this ridge, and sometimes to great depth; hence it
was necessary that the teams should leave without delay, otherwise they
might get into a snow blockade, and be lost.
Tah-home was ordered to accompany the train as a guide. He remonstrated,
because he had about made up his mind to remain and join O-che-o’s band
sooner than be separated from Ka-ko-na.
I knew if he remained it would be to his disadvantage, and probable ruin;
and for that reason refused him his request, after fairly explaining the
reasons therefor.
He acknowledged the validity of my arguments, and with a quick, quiet
motion withdrew. I caught his eye, and read plainly what was in his mind.
He had determined to take Ka-ko-na with him at every hazard.
Half suppressing my own convictions of right in the premises, I shut my
eyes to what was passing; in fact, I half relented in my determination to
enforce the new law in regard to buying women. I felt that the trial was a
little too severe on all the Indian parties to this transaction.
The evening before the departure, in company with Capt. Knapp (the agent),
I called at Tah-home’s tent, and found Ka-ko-na still weeping. Tah-home
was downcast and sober-faced, and renewed his petition for the privilege
of remaining. I confess that was tempted to suspend the new law, but
steadied myself with the belief that some way, somehow, Tah-home would
succeed without my aid, and without the retraction of the law, though I
could not see just how. I was “borrowing trouble,” for, as I subsequently
learned, the arrangement for Tah-home to get away with his wife had
already been made through the intervention of a “mutual friend,” and at
the time I visited his camp, Tah-home and Ka-ko-na were playing a
part,——throwing dust in my eyes.
This mutual friend had satisfied O-che-o by giving him one of Tah-home’s
horses, his rifle, and a pair of blankets, all of which had been sent off
to O-che-o’s camp.
The snow began falling before morning, and in the meantime Tah-home and
Ka-ko-na silently left camp for Warm Springs. On the following morning,
when the teams were drawn up to start, I missed Tah-home and Ka-ko-na. Of
course I needed no one to tell me that at that moment they were miles
away, towards the summit of the mountain.
Having, at that time, no assurance that O-che-o had been “seen,” I
hastened to his lodge. I found him sleeping, or pretending to sleep. On
being aroused he sprang to his feet, and inquired the cause of my early
visit. I think that no looker-on would have detected, in his looks or
manner, anything but surprise and indignation, when the escape of Tah-home
and his wife was made known to him. Reproach was in his eyes and his
actions while he dressed himself. I was alarmed lest they should be
pursued.
A “_mutual friend_” is, sometimes, a handy thing in life; in this instance
the “mutual,” seeing that I was in the dark, and liable to make some rash
promises, touched me on the arm, and called me away. I followed him.
O-che-o _did not follow me_. If my memory is correct, the matter was not
again referred to by either of us; but there was considerable sly
laughing all over the camp, at the way in which the “tyee” (myself) had
been outwitted by Indians.
“Such is life.” We are living a lie when we seem most honest, and justify
ourselves with the assurance that “of two evils choose the least,” will
whitewash us over to all other eyes. To the present writing, conscience
has not kept my eyes open when I wished to sleep, because I shut them on
Tah-home and O-che-o’s trick.
The grand council was opened by Allen David, the chief, saying, “Hear me,
all my people——open your ears and listen to all the words that are
spoken——I have been to the head of Sprague’s river, to meet the new
tyee——I have looked into his eyes——I have seen his tongue——he talks
straight. His heart is strong——he is a brave man——he will say strong
words. His ears are large——he hears everything. He does not get tired. He
does not come drunk with whiskey. What you have heard about him shaking
hands with every one is true. His eye is good——he does not miss
anything——he saw my heart. He washed my heart with a strong law——he
brought some new laws that are like a strong soap. Watch close and do not
miss his words——they are strong. We will steal his heart.”
The subjoined report to my superior in office was made on my return to
Salem, and since it is an official communication, written years ago, it
may be worthy of a place in this connection; supplementing which I propose
to write more in detail matters concerning this visit and the series of
meetings referred to. I make this statement here, because I do not wish
the readers to be confused by the mixing of dates, since to finish this
report in full without explanation would exclude incidents that are of
interest in a book, though not justifiable in official reports.
OFFICE SUPERINTENDENT INDIAN AFFAIRS,
SALEM, OREGON, Jan. 20th, 1870.
SIR:——After the completion of the Snake expedition and previous
to starting on the Modoc trip, I held a series of meetings and
talks with the Klamaths.
I understand, and have so represented on every occasion, that
President Grant meant what he said in his inaugural address:
that his policy in regard to Indians would be to prepare them by
civilization for citizenship. Acting from this principle, so
perfectly in accordance with my own judgment, I stepped out of
the track of my predecessors, and said to them that my first
business is to settle the financial affairs of the agency; then,
to issue such goods as I had provided; and then to deliver a
message from Mr. Parker to you; that I am ready to hear any and
all complaints; settle any and all difficulties; decide any and
all vexed questions; to tell you about the white people’s laws,
customs, habits, religion, etc., etc.; in a word, I propose to
remove the barrier that a condition has held between the
different stations in life. Civilization may be yours——manhood——
the American standard of worth. The course is clear and open to
you Indian people——for the whole family of man.
I had never stood, until now, before a people just emerging from
the chrysalis of savage life, struggling earnestly and manfully
to leave behind them the traditions and customs of an ancestry
known only to mankind by the history of bloody acts and deeds
of savage heroism.
I would that I could portray these scenes: these dark-eyed men
with long hair, women naturally good-looking, but so sadly
debauched that virtue makes no pretensions among them; children
of every _shade_,——all gathered around a huge fire of pine logs,
in a forest of tall trees, in mid-winter, with the little camp
fires here and there; and notwithstanding the ground was covered
with snow and thermometer sometimes below zero, these people
would sit, or stand, for hours, with eyes, ears, and hearts all
open to hear; catching with great eagerness the story of my
superior in office, to whom I made all my reports and from whom
I received instructions, who, by his own energy, had elevated
himself to a level with the great men of the age; and that he,
Parker, was of “_their own race_.”
The Klamath chief, Allen David, arose to reply amid surroundings
characteristic of Indian life,——a perfect solemn silence broken
only by his voice.
I then heard the notes of natural oratory, coming in wild, but
well-measured words, and recognized for the first time fully
that nature does sometimes produce noble men _without_ the line
of civilized life. I send you a verbatim report of his speech as
taken by Dr. McKay; because I understand we are all trying to
solve the problem of civilization for Indians. _I am not,
myself, longer sceptical_ on that subject; but I know that a
large proportion of our public men _are_; and you would not
wonder, either, could you visit some reservations and see for
yourself the inside workings of moral law.
But I assert that the Indians are not to blame; let censure
fall where it belongs; viz., on the men who are entrusted with
the care and responsibility of leading and protecting these
people, yet wink at and tolerate, in subordinates, the most
demoralizing habits, and may be, in some cases, participants
themselves. I do not speak of this agency in particular.
Said Allen David,——“I see you. All my people see you.——I saw you
at Sprague river.——I watched your mouth.——I have seen but one
tongue.——I have looked into your eyes.——I have seen your heart.——
You have given me another heart.——All my people will have white
hearts.——When I was a little boy I lived here.——I have always
lived here.——A long time ago a white man told me I could be like
him. I said my skin is red, it cannot change; it must be my
heart, my brain, that is to be like a white man.——You think we
are low people.——May be we are in your eyes.——Who made us so?——
We do not know much; we can learn.——Some of the officers at the
fort (referring to Fort Klamath, six miles from the agency) have
been good men——some of them have been bad men.——Do you think a
good white man will take an Indian wife?——A white man that will
take an Indian wife is worse blood than Indian.——These things
make our hearts sad.——We want you to stop it.... Your ears are
large.——Your heart is large.——You see us.——Do not let your heart
get sick.
“Take a white man into the woods, away from a store; set him
down, with nothing in his hands, in the woods, and without a
store to get tools from; and what could he do?
“When you lay down before us the axes, the saws, the iron wedges
and mauls you have promised us, and we do not take them up,
then you can say we are ‘cul-tus’——lazy people.——You say your
chief is like me——that he is an Indian——I am glad. What can I
say that is worth writing down?——Mr. Parker does not know me.——
When you do all Mr. Huntington promised in the treaty, 1864, we
can go to work like white men.——Our hearts are tired waiting for
the saw-mill.——When it is built, then we can have houses like
white men.——We want the flour-mill; then we will not live on
fish and roots. We will help to make the mills.——We made the
fences on the big farms.——We did not get tired....
“Give us strong law; we will do what your law says. We want
strong law——we want to be like white men. You say that Mr.
Parker does not want bad men among our people.——Is B. a good
man?——he took Frank’s wife——is that good? We do not want such
men. Is ———— a good man?——he took Celia from her husband——is that
right?——Applegate gave us good laws——he is a good man.——
Applegate told us not to gamble. Capt. ———— won thirty-seven
horses from us. He says there is no law about gambling.——
Applegate said there was.——Which is right?”...
Mr. Meacham said, “You need not be afraid to talk——Keep nothing
back. Your people are under a cloud. I see by their eyes that
their hearts are sick; they look sorrowful. Open your hearts and
I will hear you; tell me all, that I may know what to do to make
them glad.”
Allen David said, “I will keep nothing back.——I have eyes——I can
see that white men have white hands.——Some white men take our
women——they have children——they are not Indian——they are not
white——they are shame children.——Some white men take care of
their children.——It makes my heart sick.——I do not want these
things.——Indian is an Indian——we do not want any more shame
children. A white man that would take an Indian squaw is no
better than we are.
“Our women go to the fort——they make us feel sick——they get
goods——sometimes greenbacks.——We do not want them to go there——
we want the store here at the agency; then our women will not go
to the fort.... Last Sunday some soldiers went to Pompey’s——they
talked bad to the women.——We do not want soldiers among our
women.——Can you stop this? Our women make us ashamed.——We may
have done wrong——give us strong law.”...
Joe Hood (Indian), at a talk seven days after, said: “Meacham
came here. Parker told him to come. He brought a strong law. It
is a ‘new soap,’ it washed my heart all clean but a little place
about as big as my thumb-nail. Caroline’s (his wife) heart may
not all be white yet. If it was, my own would be white like
snow. Parker’s law has made us just like we were new married. I
told these Indians that the law is like strong soap; it makes
all clean. I do not want but one wife any more.”...
Allen David said: “You say we are looking into a camp-fire; that
we can find moonlight. You say there is a road that goes toward
sunrise. Show me that stone road. I am now on the stone road. I
will follow you to the top of the mountain. You tell me come on.
I can see you now. My feet are on the road. I will not leave it.
I tell my people follow me, and I will stay in the stone
road.”...
I have given you a few extracts, that you may judge from their
own mouths whether they can become civilized. If Lindsay
Applegate, and his sons, J. D. and Oliver, could take wild
savage Indians, and, against so much opposition, in the short
space of four years bring them to this state, I know they can be
civilized. If good men are appointed to lead and teach them,——
_not books alone_, but civilization, with all that civilization
means,——men whose hearts are in the work, and who realize that,
as soon as duties devolve on them, great responsibility
attaches; men who have courage to _stand squarely_ between these
people and the villains that hang around reservations from the
lowest motives imaginable; men paid fair salaries for doing
duty; that will not civilize the people by “mixing blood;”
married men of character who will practise what they preach, and
who can live without smuggling whiskey on to the Reservation;
ten years from to-day may find this superintendency
self-supporting, and offering to the world seven thousand
citizens.
I am conscious that this is strong talk, but it is surely true.
I have not overdrawn this side of the case; nor will I attempt
to show what _has been done_, or will be done, with
superintendents, agents, and employés in charge placed there as
a reward for political service.
The past tells the story too plainly to be misapprehended. While
I am responsible for the advancement of these people, I beg to
state my views and make known the result of observation and
experience. As a subordinate officer of the Government, I expect
to have my official acts scrutinized closely. I respectfully ask
that I may be furnished the funds to keep faith with a people so
little understood,——people so much like children that when they
are promised a saw-mill they go to work cutting logs, only to
see them decayed before the mill is begun, but with logic enough
to say, “When you have got us the things you promised, then you
may blame us if we don’t do right.”
I have now no longer any doubts about President Grant’s “Quaker
Policy,” if it is applied to Indians once subjugated. These
people have mind, soul, heart, affection, passion, and impulses,
and great ambition to become like white men. There are more or
less men in each reservation who are already superior to many of
the white men around them. At Klamath they are now working under
civil law of trial by jury,——with judge, sheriff, civil
marriage, divorce; in fact, are fast assuming the habiliments of
citizenship.
I spent seven days, talking, and listening, and making laws,
marrying and divorcing, naming babies, settling difficulties,
etc., and finally started, accompanied on my journey by a large
delegation of Klamaths, who insisted that I should come again
and remain longer, and make _laws_, and that I would build the
mills, and tell them more about our religion; all of which I
promised, if possible; but realizing fully and feeling deeply
how much depended on the man who is in _immediate charge_ of
these poor, struggling people.
I am, very respectfully,
Your obt. servt.,
A. B. MEACHAM,
_Supt. Indian Affairs_.
HON. E. S. PARKER, _Commissioner_,
WASHINGTON, D. C.
In Allen David’s speech, he refers to the “Fort,” meaning Fort Klamath,
six miles distant from the agency. It was established for the protection
of the settlers on the Klamath frontier. Two and sometimes three companies
have been stationed at this fort for several years.
The remarks of this chief need no comment; _they tell the tale_. If
confirmation was wanting of the crimes intimated in his speech, a visit to
Klamath Indian Agency, and even a casual glance at the different
complexions of the young and rising generation, would proclaim the
correctness of Allen David’s charges.