CAPTAIN JACK A DIPLOMAT——SHOOT ME IF YOU DARE.
On the following day the council tent was erected in a comparatively
smooth plot of land, in the Lava Beds, care being taken to select a site
as far as possible from rocks that might answer for an ambuscade.
This place was less than one mile from our camp, and a little more than a
mile from the Modocs. Meanwhile the signal corps had established
communication between the two army camps. The signal station at our camp
was half way up the bluff, and commanded a view of the council tent, and
of the trail leading to it from the Modoc stronghold, as it did of the
entire Lava Beds.
Col. Mason’s command being on the opposite side of Captain Jack’s
head-quarters, from our camp, the three were almost in a line.
Communication was also established between the army camps, with boats
going from one to the other, and, in doing so, passing in full view of the
Modocs.
The Modocs were permitted to visit the head-quarters during the day, and
to mix and mingle with the officers and men. The object of this liberty
was to convince them of the friendly intentions of the army, and also of
its power, as they everywhere saw the arms and munitions of war. They were
also permitted to examine the shell mortars and the shells themselves.
On one occasion Bogus Charley and Hooker Jim observed the signal telegraph
working, and inquired the meaning of it. They were told by Gen. Gilliam
that he was talking to the other camp; that he knew what was going on over
there; they were also informed that Col. Mason would move up nearer to
their camp in a few days, and that he, Gen. Gilliam, would move his camp
on to the little flat very near Captain Jack’s. “But don’t you shoot my
men. I won’t shoot your men, but I am going over there to see if
everything is all right.” Gen. Gilliam also informed them that, “in a few
days, one hundred Warm Spring braves would be there.”
These things excited the Modocs very much. Bogus Charley questioned
General Gilliam, “What for you talk over my home? I no like that. What for
the Warm Springs come here?” Receiving no satisfactory reply, they went to
Fairchild, who was in camp, and expressed much dissatisfaction on account
of the signal telegraph, and the coming of the Warm Spring Indians.
On the 5th of April Captain Jack sent Boston Charley, with a request for
old man Meacham to meet him at the council tent, and to bring John
Fairchild along. This message was laid before the board. It was thought,
both by Gen. Canby and Dr. Thomas, to be fraught with danger. I did not,
and I assumed the responsibility of going this time; inviting Mr.
Fairchild, and taking Riddle and his wife as interpreters, I went.
[Illustration: WI-NE-MAH (TOBEY).]
Judge Roseborough arrived in camp, and came on after we had reached the
council tent.
Captain Jack was on the ground, accompanied by his wives and seven or
eight men. On this occasion he talked freely, saying, substantially, that
he felt afraid of Gen. Canby, on account of his military dress; and, also,
of Dr. Thomas, because he was a Sunday doctor; but “now I can talk. I am
not afraid. I know you and Fairchild. I know your hearts.” He reviewed the
circumstances that led to the war, nearly in the order they have been
referred to in this volume, and differing in no material point, except
that he blamed Superintendent Odeneal for not coming in person to see him
while on Lost river, saying, “that he would not have resisted him. Take
away the soldier, and the war will stop. Give me a home on Lost river. I
can take care of my people. I do not ask anybody to help me. We can make a
living for ourselves. Let us have the same chance that other men have. We
do not want to ask an agent where we can go. We are _men_; we are not
women.”
I replied, that, “since blood has been spilled on Lost river, you cannot
live there in peace; the blood would always come up between you and the
white men. The army cannot be withdrawn until all the troubles are
settled.”
After sitting in silence a few moments, he replied, “I hear your words. I
give up my home on Lost river. Give me this lava bed for a home. I can
live here; take away your soldiers, and we can settle everything. Nobody
will ever want these rocks; give me a home here.”
Assured that no peace could be had while he remained in the rocks, unless
he gave up the men who committed the murders on Lost river for trial, he
met me with real Indian logic: “Who will try them,——white men or Indians?”
“White men, of course,” I replied, although I knew that this man had an
inherent idea of the right of trial by a jury of his peers, and that he
would come back with another question not easy to be answered by a citizen
_who believed in equal justice to all men_.
“Then will you give up the men who killed the Indian women and children on
Lost river, to be tried by the Modocs?”
I said, “No, because the Modoc law is dead; the white man’s law rules the
country now; only one law lives at a time.”
He had not yet exhausted all his mental resources. Hear him say: “Will you
try the men who fired on my people, on the east side of Lost river, by
your own law?”
This inquiry was worthy of a direct answer, and it would seem that no
honest man need hesitate to say “Yes.” _I did not_ say yes, because I knew
that the prejudice was so strong against the Modocs that it could not be
done. I could only repeat that “the white man’s law rules the
country,——the Indian law is dead.”
“Oh, yes, I see; the white man’s laws are good for the white man, but they
are made so as to leave the Indian out. No, my friend, I cannot give up
the young men to be hung. I know they did wrong,——their blood was bad when
they saw the women and children dead. _They_ did not begin; the white man
began first; I know they are bad; I can’t help that; I have no strong
laws, and strong houses; some of your young men are bad, too; _you_ have
strong laws and strong houses (jails); why don’t you make your men do
right? No, I cannot give up my young men; take away the soldiers, and all
the trouble will stop.”
I repeated again: “The soldiers cannot be taken away while you stay in the
Lava Beds.” Laying his hand on my arm, he said, “Tell me, my friend, what
I am to do,——I do not want to fight.” I said to him, “The only way now for
peace is to come out of the rocks, and we will hunt up a new home for you;
then all this trouble will cease. No peace can be made while you stay in
the Lava Beds; we can find you another place, and the President will give
you each a home.” He replied, “I don’t know any other country. God gave me
this country; he put my people here first. I was born here,——my father was
born here; I want to live here; I do not want to leave the ground where I
was born.”
On being again assured that he “must come out of the rocks and leave the
country, acknowledge the authority of the Government, and then we could
live in peace,” his reply was characteristic of the man and his race:——
“You ask me to come out, and put myself in your power. I cannot do it,——I
am afraid; no, I am not afraid, but my people are. When you was at
Fairchild’s ranch you sent me word that no more preparation for war would
be made by you, and that I must not go on preparing for war until this
thing was settled. I have done nothing; I have seen your men passing
through the country; I could have killed them; I did not; my men have
stayed in the rocks all the time; they have not killed anybody; they have
not killed any cattle. I have kept my promise,——_have you kept yours_?
Your soldiers stole my horses, you did not give them up; you say ‘you
want peace,’ why do you come with so many soldiers to make peace? I see
your men coming every day with big guns; does _that_ look like making
peace?”
Then, rising to his feet, he pointed to the farther shore of the lake: “Do
you see that dark spot there? _do you see it?_ Forty-six of my people met
Ben Wright there when I was a little boy. He told them he wanted to make
peace. It was a rainy day; my people wore moccasins then; their feet were
wet. _He smoked the pipe with them._ They believed him; they set down to
dry their feet; they unstrung their bows, and laid them down by their
sides; when, suddenly, Ben Wright drawing a pistol with each hand, began
shooting my people. Do you know how many escaped? _Do you know?_” With his
eye fixed fiercely on mine, he waited a minute, and then, raising one
hand, with his fingers extended, he answered silently. Continuing, he
said: “One man of the five——Te-he-Jack——is now in that camp there,”
pointing to the stronghold.
I pointed to “Bloody Point,” and _asked him how many escaped there_? He
answered: “Your people and mine were at war then; they were not making
peace.”
On my asserting that “Ben Wright did wrong to kill people under a flag of
truce,” he said: “_You_ say it is wrong; but your _Government_ did not say
it was wrong. It made him a tyee chief. Big Chief made him an Indian
agent.”
This half-savage had truth on his side, as far as the Government was
concerned; as to the treachery of Ben Wright, that has been emphatically
denied, and just as positively affirmed, by parties who were cognizant of
the affair. It is certain that the Modocs have always claimed that he
violated a flag of truce, and that they have never complained of any
losses of men in any other way. I have no doubt that this massacre had
been referred to often in the Modoc councils by the “Curly-haired Doctor”
and his gang of cut-throats, for the purpose of preventing peace-making.
Captain Jack, rising to full stature, broke out in an impassioned speech,
that I had not thought him competent to make:——
“I am but one man. I am the voice of my people. Whatever their hearts are,
that I talk. I want no more war. I want to be a man. You deny me the right
of a white man. My skin is red; my heart is a white man’s heart; but I am
a _Modoc_. I am not afraid to die. I will not fall on the rocks. When I
die, my enemies will be under me. Your soldiers begun on me when I was
asleep on Lost river. They drove us to these rocks, like a wounded deer.
Tell your soldier tyee I am over there now; tell him not to hunt for me on
Lost river or Shasta Butte. Tell him I _am over there_. I want him to take
his soldiers away. I do not want to fight. I am a Modoc. I am not afraid
to die. I can show him how a Modoc can die.”
I advised him to think well; that our Government was strong, and would not
go back; if he would not come out of the rocks the war would go on, and
all his people would be destroyed.
Before parting, I proposed for him to go to camp with me, and have dinner
and another talk. He said “he was not afraid to go, but his people were
afraid for him. He could not go.”
This talk lasted nearly seven hours, and was the only full, free talk had
with the Modocs during the existence of the Peace Commission.
I left that council having more respect for the Modoc chief than I had
ever felt before. No arrangement was made for subsequent meetings, he
going to his camp, to counsel with his people. We returned to ours, to
report to the Board of Commissioners the talk, from the notes taken. Judge
Roseborough, who had been present a portion of the time, and Mr.
Fairchild, agreed with me that Captain Jack himself wanted peace, and was
willing to accept the terms offered; but he, being in the hands of bad
men, might not be able to bring his people out of the rocks.
Gen. Canby, Dr. Thomas, and Mr. Dyer were of the opinion that, inasmuch as
Captain Jack had abandoned his claim to Lost river, which he had always
insisted on previously, he might consent to a removal. We did not believe
that his people would permit him to make such terms. We were all more
anxious than before to save Captain Jack and those who were in favor of
peace. Accordingly, it was determined to make the effort, Gen. Canby
authorizing me to say, through a messenger, that, if Captain Jack and the
peace party would come out, he would place the troops in position to
protect him while making the attempt.
Tobey Riddle was despatched to the Modoc camp with the message, fully
instructed what to say. On her arrival, Captain Jack refused a _private_
conference, saying, “I want my people all to hear.” The proposition was
made, the vote was taken, and but eleven men voted with Jack to accept the
terms, the majority giving warning that any attempt to escape would be
attended with chances of death to all who dared it. Captain Jack replied
to the message: “I am a _Modoc_, and I cannot, and will not, leave my
people.” The reason was evident——he _dared_ not, knowing that his own life
and that of his family would pay the penalty.
This vote in Tobey’s presence gave a knowledge as to the number of peace
men in the Modoc camp. On her return to our camp, one of the peace men
(the wild girl’s man), having secreted himself behind a rock near the
trail, as she passed, said to her: “Tell old man Meacham and all the men
not to come to the council tent again——they get killed.” Tobey could not
stop to hear more, lest she should betray her friend who was giving her
the information. She arrived at the Peace Commission tent in camp in great
distress; her eyes were swollen, and gave evidence of weeping. She sat on
her horse in solemn, sullen silence for some minutes, refusing to speak
until her husband arrived. He beckoned me to him, and, with whitened lips,
told the story of the intended assassination. The board was assembled, and
the warning thus given us was repeated by Riddle, also the reply of
Captain Jack to our message. A discussion was had over the warning, Gen.
Canby saying that they “might talk such things, but they would not attempt
it.” Dr. Thomas was inclined to believe that it was a sensational story,
got up for effect. Mr. Dyer and myself accepted the warning, accrediting
the authority.
On the day following, a delegation composed of “Bogus,” “Boston,” and
“Shacknasty,” arrived, and proposed a meeting at the council tent; saying
that Captain Jack and four other Indians were there waiting for us to meet
them. I was managing the talks and negotiations for councils, and without
evincing distrust of Boston, who was spokesman, said we were not ready to
talk that day. While the parley was going on, an orderly handed Gen. Canby
a despatch from the signal station, saying, “_Five Indians at the council
tent, apparently unarmed, and about twenty others, with rifles, are in the
rocks a few rods behind them_.” This paper was passed from one to another
without comment, while the talk with Boston was being concluded. We were
all convinced that treachery was intended on that day.
Before the Modocs left our camp, Dr. Thomas unwisely said to Bogus
Charley, “What do you want to kill us for? We are your friends.” Bogus, in
a very earnest manner, said, “Who told you that?” The doctor evaded. Bogus
insisted; growing warmer each time; and finally, through fear, or perhaps
he was too honest to evade longer, the doctor replied, “Tobey told it.”
Bogus signalled to Shacknasty and Boston, and the three worthies left our
camp together; Bogus, however, having questioned Tobey as to the
authorship of the warning, before leaving. Riddle and his wife were much
alarmed now for their own personal safety. Up to this time they had felt
secure. The trio of Modocs had not been gone very long, when a messenger
came demanding of Tobey to visit the Modoc camp. She was alarmed, as was
Riddle. They sought advice of the commission,——they thought there was
great danger. _I did not._
A consultation was had with General Canby, who proposed to move
immediately against the Modocs were Tobey assaulted. With this assurance
she consented to go. In proof of my faith in her return I loaned her my
overcoat, and gave her my horse to ride. She parted with her little boy
(ten years old) several times before she succeeded in mounting her
horse,——clasping him to her breast, she would set him down and start, and
then run to him and catch him up again,——each time seeming more
affected,——until at last her courage was high enough, and, saying a few
words in a low voice to her husband, she rode off on this perilous
expedition to meet her own people. Riddle, too, was very uneasy about her
safety; with a field-glass in hand he took a station commanding a view of
the trail to the Modoc camp. This incident was one of thrilling interest.
We could see that Indian woman when she arrived in the Modoc camp, and
could see them gather around her. They demanded to know by what authority
she had told the story about their intention to kill the commission. She
denied that she had; but the denial was not received as against the
statement of Bogus. She then claimed that she dreamed it; this was not
accepted. The next dodge was, “The spirits told me.” Believers as they are
in _Spiritualism_, they would not receive this statement, and began to
make threats of violence; declaring that she should give the name of her
informer, or suffer the consequences. Rising to a real heroism, she
pointed with one hand, saying, “There are soldiers there,” and with the
other, “There are soldiers there; you touch me and they will fire on you,
and not a Modoc will escape.” Smiting her breast, she continued: “I am a
Modoc woman; all my blood is Modoc; I did not dream it; the spirits did
not tell me; one of your men told me. I won’t tell you who it was. _Shoot
me, if you dare!_”
On her return she gave an account of this intensely thrilling scene as
related, and it has been subsequently confirmed by other Modocs who were
present. Captain Jack and Scar-face Charley interfered in her behalf, and
sent an escort to see her safely to our camp. She repeated her warning
against going to the peace tent.