Camp Amusements--A Lost Arrow--Escape of a Prisoner--Escape of
Another--Shooting of the Third--Indian Diplomacy--Taking His
Own Medicine--Ten-ie-ya Captured--Grief over the Death of His
Son--Appetite under Adverse Circumstances--Poetry Dispelled--Really a
Dirty Indian.
Although our camp was undisturbed during the night, no doubt we were
watched from the adjacent cliffs, as in fact all our movements were.
The captives silently occupied the places by the camp fire. They
were aware of Spencer’s mishap, and probably expected their lives
might be forfeited; for they could see but little sympathy in the
countenances of those about them. The reckless demonstrations of the
more frolicksome boys were watched with anxious uncertainty. The sombre
expressions and _energetic_ remarks of the sympathizers of Spencer
induced Captain Boling to have a special guard detailed from those
who were not supposed to be prejudiced against the Indians, as it was
deemed all-important to the success of the campaign that Ten-ie-ya
should be conciliated or captured; therefore, this detail was designed
as much for the protection of the hostages as to prevent their escape.
The messengers had assured the Captain that Ten-ie-ya would be in
before noon, but the hostages told Sandino that possibly the messengers
might not find him near To-co-ya, where they expected to meet him,
as he might go a long distance away into the mountains before they
would again see him. They evidently supposed that the chief, like
themselves, had become alarmed at the failure of his plan to draw us
into ambush, and had fled farther into the Sierras; or else doubted
his coming at all, and wished to encourage the Captain to hope for the
coming of Ten-ie-ya that their own chances of escape might be improved.
Sandino professed to believe their statement, telling me that
they--the five prisoners--expected to have trailed us up to the scene
of Spencer’s disaster; failing in which--owing to our having forced
them to hide near the “Frog Mountains”--they still expected to meet
him on the cliff where the rocks had been rolled down, and not at
To-co-ya. In this conversation, the fact appeared--derived as he said
indirectly from conversations with the prisoners--that there were
projecting ledges and slopes extending along the cliff on the east
side of Le-hamite to To-co-ya, where Indians could pass and re-pass,
undiscovered, and all of our movements could be watched. The substance
of this communication I gave to Captain Boling, but it was discredited
as an impossibility; and he expressed the belief that the old chief
would make his appearance by the hour agreed upon with his messengers,
designated by their pointing to where the sun would be on his arrival
in camp. Accordingly the Captain gave orders that no scouts would be
sent out until after that time. Permission, however, was given to those
who desired to leave camp for their own pleasure or diversion.
A few took advantage of this opportunity and made excursions up the
North Cañon to the “basket trail,” with a view of examining that
locality, and at the same time indulging their curiosity to see the
place where Cameron and Spencer had been trailed in and entrapped by
the Indians. Most of the command preferred to remain in camp to repair
damages, rest, and to amuse themselves in a general way. Among the
recreations indulged in, was shooting at a target with the bows and
arrows taken from the captured Indians. The bow and arrows of the
young brave were superior to those of the others, both in material
and workmanship. Out of curiosity some of the boys induced him to
give a specimen of his skill. His shots were really commendable. The
readiness with which he handled his weapons excited the admiration
of the lookers on. He, with apparent ease, flexed a bow which many
of our men could not bend without great effort, and whose shots were
as liable to endanger the camp as to hit the target. This trial of
skill was witnessed by Captain Boling and permitted, as no trouble was
anticipated from it.
After this exercise had ceased to be amusing, and the most of those in
camp had their attention engaged in other matters, the guard, out of
curiosity and for pastime, put up the target at long range. To continue
the sport it was necessary to bring in the arrows used, and as it
was difficult to find them, an Indian was taken along to aid in the
search. The young brave made a more extended shot than all others. With
great earnestness he watched the arrow, and started with one of the
guard, who was unarmed, to find it. While pretending to hunt for the
“lost arrow,” he made a dash from the guard toward “Indian Cañon,” and
darted into the rocky Talus, which here encroached upon the valley. The
guard on duty hearing the alarm of his comrade and seeing the Indian
at full speed, fired at him, but without effect, as the intervening
rocks and the zig-zag course he was running, made the shot a difficult
one, without danger of hitting his comrade, who was following in close
pursuit.
This aggravating incident greatly annoyed Capt. Boling, who was
peculiarly sensitive on the subject of escaped prisoners. The verdant
guard was reprimanded in terms more expressive than polite; and
relieved from duty. The remaining Indians were then transferred to the
special care of Lt. Chandler, who was told by Capt. Boling to “keep
them secure if it took the whole command to do-it.” The Indians were
secured by being tied back to back, with a “riata” or picket rope,
and then fastened to an oak tree in the middle of the camp, and the
guard--a new one--stationed where they could constantly watch. The
morning passed, and the hour of ten arrived, without Ten-ie-ya. Capt.
Boling then sent out Sandino and the scouts to hunt for him, and if
found, to notify him that he was expected. Sandino soon came back, and
reported that he had seen Ten-ie-ya and talked with him; but that he
was unable to reach him from below, on account of the steepness of the
ledge. Sandino reported that Ten-ie-ya was unwilling to come in. That
he expressed a determination not to go to the Fresno. He would make
peace with the white chief if he would be allowed to remain in his own
territory. Neither he nor his people would go to the valley while the
white men were there. They would stay on the mountains or go to the
Monos.
When this was communicated to Capt. Boling, he gave orders for a select
number of scouts to make an effort to bring in the old malcontent,
_alive if possible_. Lt. Chandler, therefore, with a few Noot-chü
and Po-ho-no-chee scouts, to climb above the projecting ledge, and a
few of our men to cut off retreat, started up the Ten-ie-ya branch,
led by Sandino as guide. After passing the “Royal Arches,” Sandino
let Chandler understand that he and his scouts had best go up by the
Wai-ack or Mirror Lake trail, in order to cut off Ten-ie-ya’s retreat;
while he went back to the rock he pointed out as the place where he
had seen and talked with Ten-ie-ya; and which commanded a view of our
camp. This was distasteful to Chandler; but after a moment’s reflection
said: “Let the converted knave go back to camp; I’ll act without him,
and catch the old chief if he is on the mountain, and that without
resorting to Indian treachery.”
While in camp Sandino had seemed to convey some message to the
hostages, and when asked the purport of it had answered evasively.
This had prejudiced Chandler, but it had not surprised me, nor did it
appear inconsistent with Sandino’s loyalty to Captain Boling; but the
Indian was unpopular. As to his code of honor and his morality, it was
about what should have been expected of one in his position, and as a
frequent interpreter of his interpretations and sayings, I finally told
the Captain and Chandler that it would be best to take Sandino for what
he might be worth; as continued doubt of him could not be disguised,
and would tend to make a knave or fool of him. On one occasion, he was
so alarmed by some cross looks and words given him, that he fell upon
his knees and begged for his life, thinking, as he said afterward, that
he was to be killed.
During the night, and most of the time during the day, I was engaged in
attendance on Spencer. Doctor Black understood it to be Spencer’s wish
that I should treat him. I gave but little attention to other matters,
although I could see from our tent everything that was going on in
camp. Not long after the departure of Chandler and his scouts, as I was
about leaving camp in search of balsam of fir and other medicinals, I
observed one of the guard watching the prisoners with a pleased and
self-satisfied expression. As I glanced toward the Indians I saw that
they were endeavoring to untie each other, and said to two of the
detail as I passed them, “That ought to be reported to the officer of
the guard. They should be separated, and not allowed to tempt their
fate.” I was told that it was “already known to the officers.” I was
then asked if I was on guard duty. The significance of this I was fully
able to interpret, and passed on to the vicinity of “The High Falls.”
On my return an hour afterwards, I noticed when nearing camp, that the
Indians were gone from the tree to which they were tied when I left.
Supposing that they had probably been removed for greater security, I
gave it no further thought until, without any intimation of what had
occurred during my short absence, I saw before me the dead body of old
Ten-ie-ya’s youngest son. The warm blood still oozing from a wound in
his back. He was lying just outside of our camp, within pistol range of
the tree to which he had been tied.
I now comprehended the action of the guard. I learned that the other
Indian had been fired at, but had succeeded in making his escape
over the same ground and into the cañon where the other brave had
disappeared. I found on expressing my unqualified condemnation of
this cowardly act, that I was not the only one to denounce it. It was
a cause of regret to nearly the whole command. Instead of the praise
expected by the guard for the dastardly manner in which the young
Indian was killed, they were told by Captain Boling that they had
committed murder. Sergeant Cameron was no lover of Indians, but for
this act his boiling wrath could hardly find vent, even when aided by
some red hot expressions. I learned, to my extreme mortification, that
no report had been made to any of the officers. The Indians had been
permitted to untie themselves, and an opportunity had been given them
to attempt to escape in order to fire upon them, expecting to kill them
both; and only that a bullet-pouch had been hung upon the muzzle of one
of the guard’s rifles while leaning against a tree (for neither were
on duty at the moment), no doubt both of the captives would have been
killed.
[Illustration: YOSEMITE FALLS.
(2,634 feet in height.)]
Upon investigation, it was found that the fatal shot had been fired
by a young man who had been led by an old Texan sinner to think that
killing Indians or Mexicans was a duty; and surprised at Captain
Boling’s view of his conduct, declared with an injured air, that
he “would not kill another Indian if the woods were full of them.”
Although no punishment was ever inflicted upon the perpetrators of
the act, they were both soon sent to coventry, and feeling their
disgrace, were allowed to do duty with the pack-train. Captain Boling
had, before the occurrence of this incident, decided to establish his
permanent camp on the south side of the Merced. The location selected
was near the bank of the river, in full view of, and nearly opposite,
“The Fall.” This camp was head-quarters during our stay in the valley,
which was extended to a much longer time than we had anticipated. Owing
to several mountain storms, our stay was prolonged over a month. The
bottoms, or meadow land, afforded good grazing for our animals, and we
were there more conveniently reached by our couriers and supply-trains
from the Fresno.
From this point our excursions were made. All Indians attach great
importance to securing the bodies of their dead for appropriate
ceremonials, which with these was “cremation.” They with others of
the mountain tribes in this part of California, practiced the burning
of their dead in accordance with their belief in a future state of
existence, which was that if the body was burned, the spirit was
released and went to “the happy land in the west.” If this ceremony
was omitted, the spirit haunted the vicinity, to the annoyance of the
friends as well as the enemies of the deceased. Knowing this, Captain
Boling felt a desire to make some atonement for the unfortunate killing
of the son of Ten-ie-ya, the chief of the tribe with whom he was
endeavoring to “make peace,” and therefore made his arrangements to
take advantage of this custom to propitiate the Indians by giving them
an opportunity to remove the body of the youth. Accordingly, the order
was at once given to break camp.
While the pack animals were being loaded, Lt. Chandler with his party
brought in Ten-ie-ya. The Indian scouts, who were first sent out with
Sandino and who knew where the talk with the chief had been held,
passed on in advance and saw that he was still at his perch, watching
the movements below him. Some of those out on leave discovered him
also, seated on a ledge that appeared only accessible from above. The
Pohonochee scouts, thinking to capture him by cutting off his retreat,
followed an upper trail and reached the summit of the wall, while a
few of Chandler’s men, who were apprized of the situation by some
of the pleasure-seekers whom they met, took a lower trail, and thus
were in advance of the Indian scouts when Ten-ie-ya’s retreat was
reached. To their disappointment, the old chief could not be found,
though at intervals fresh signs and heaps of stones were seen along the
south-western slope of the mountain.
The sequel to the disappearance of Ten-ie-ya, as explained by Sandino,
was simply as follows: When sent back by Chandler, Sandino resolved
to make another effort to induce Ten-ie-ya to come in, lest Chandler
should kill him if found. Accordingly he again climbed to the foot of
the old chief’s perch, and was talking with him, when some small loose
stones came rolling down towards them. Seeing that his retreat above
had been cut off, Ten-ie-ya at first ran along westerly, on the slope
of the mountain towards Indian Cañon; but finding that he was cut off
in that direction also, by the Neut-chü and Po-ho-no-chee scouts, he
turned and came down a trail through an oak tree-top to the valley,
which Sandino had by this time reached, and where he had been attracted
by the noise made in the pursuit. Lt. Chandler had not climbed up the
trail, and hearing Sandino’s cry for help, and the noise above him, he
was able to reach the place when Ten-ie-ya descended, in time to secure
him. Ten-ie-ya said the men above him were rolling stones down, and
he did not like to go up, as they broke and flew everywhere; for that
reason he came down.
Ten-ie-ya accompanied his captors without making any resistance,
although he strongly censured the Indians for being instrumental in
his capture. They did not reach the valley in time to take part in the
capture, but as Ten-ie-ya had said: “It was their cunning that had
discovered the way to his hiding place.”
None of the party of explorers or those under Chandler were aware of
the event that had occurred during their absence. As Ten-ie-ya walked
toward the camp, proudly conscious of being an object of attention from
us, his eye fell upon the dead body of his favorite son, which still
lay where he had fallen, without having been disturbed. He halted for a
moment, without visible emotion, except a slight quivering of his lips.
As he raised his head, the index to his feelings was exhibited in the
glaring expression of deadly hate with which he gazed at Capt. Boling,
and cast his eyes over the camp as if in search of the remains of the
other son, the fellow captive of the one before him. Captain Boling
expressed his regret of the occurrence, and had the circumstances
explained to him, but not a single word would he utter in reply; not a
sound escaped his compressed lips. He passively accompanied us to our
camp on the south side of the river. It was evident that every movement
of ours was closely scrutinized. Sandino was instructed to notify the
chief that the body could be taken away. This permission was also
received in silence.
Upon riding over to the camp ground the next morning, it was found that
the body had been carried up or secreted in Indian Cañon; as all of
the tracks led that way. This ravine became known to _us_ as “Indian
Cañon,” though called by the Indians “Le-Hamite,” “the arrow wood.” It
was also known to them by the name of “Scho-tal-lo-wi,” meaning the
way to “_Fall Creek_.” The rocks near which we were encamped, between
“Indian Cañon” and “The Falls,” were now called by the Po-ho-no-chee
scouts who were with us, “Hammo” or “Ummo” “The Lost Arrow,” in
commemoration of the event. On the morning following the capture of
Ten-ie-ya, Capt. Boling tried to have a talk with him; but he would not
reply to a question asked through the interpreter; neither would he
converse with Sandino or the Indians with us. He maintained this moody
silence and extreme taciturnity for several days afterwards.
Finding that nothing could be accomplished through the old chief,
Captain Boling gave orders to re-commence our search for his people.
Scouting parties were started on foot to explore as far as was
practicable on account of the snow. Although it was now May, the snow
prevented a very extended search in the higher Sierras. On the first
day out these parties found that, although they had made a faithful and
active search, they had not performed half they had planned to do when
starting. Distances were invariably under-estimated. This we afterward
found was the case in all of our excursions in the mountains, where we
estimated distance by the eye; and calling attention to the phenomena,
I tried to have the principle applied to heights as well. The height of
the mountainous cliffs, and the clear atmosphere made objects appear
near, but the time taken to reach them convinced us that our eyes had
deceived us in our judgment of distance. To avoid the severe labor
that was imposed upon us by carrying our provisions and blankets, an
attempt was made to use pack-mules, but the circuitous route we were
compelled to take consumed too much time; besides the ground we were
desirous of going over was either too soft and yielding, or too rocky
and precipitous. We were compelled to leave the mules and continue our
explorations on foot. Later in the season there would have been no
difficulty in exploring the mountains on horse-back, if certain well
established routes and passes were kept in view; but aside from these
our Indian guides could give us little or no information. This we
accounted for upon the theory that, as there was no game of consequence
in the higher Sierras, and the cold was great as compared with the
lower altitudes, the Indians knowledge of the “Higher Sierras” was
only acquired while passing over them, or while concealed in them from
the pursuit of their enemies. All scouting parties were, therefore,
principally dependent upon their own resources, and took with them
a supply of food and their blankets for a bivouac. In this way much
time and fatigue of travel was saved. Some were more adventurous
than others in their explorations. These, on returning from a scout
of one or more days out, would come in ragged and foot-sore, and
report with enthusiasm their adventures, and the wonders they had
seen. Their descriptions around the camp fire at night were at first
quite exciting; but a few nights’ experience in the vicinity of the
snow-line, without finding Indians, soon cooled down the ardor of all
but a very few, who, from their persistent wandering explorations, were
considered somewhat eccentric.
Through our Indian scouts, we learned that some of the Yosemites had
gone to the Tuolumne. These were Tuolumne Indians who had intermarried
with the Yosemites, and had been considered as a part of Ten-ie-ya’s
band. Taking their women and children, they returned to the Tuolumne
tribe as soon as it was known that Ten-ie-ya had been captured; fearing
he would again promise to take his band to the Fresno. Our orders
prohibited us from disturbing the Tuolumne Indians; we therefore
permitted them to return to their allegiance without attempting to
follow them.
Ten-ie-ya was treated with kindness, and as his sorrow for the loss of
his son seemed to abate, he promised to call in some of his people, and
abide by their decision, when they had heard the statements of Capt.
Boling. At night he would call as if to some one afar off. He said his
people were not far from our camp and could hear his voice. We never
heard a reply, although the calls were continued by order of Capt.
Boling for many nights.
Although he was closely watched by the camp guard, he made an attempt
to escape while the guard’s back was momentarily turned upon him.
Sergt. Cameron, who had especial charge of him at the time, saw his
movement, and as he rushed from his keeper, Cameron dashed after and
caught him before he was able to plunge into and swim the river.
As Ten-ie-ya was brought into the presence of Capt. Boling by Sergt.
Cameron, after this attempt to escape, he supposed that he would now he
condemned to be shot. With mingled fear of the uncertainty of his life
being spared, and his furious passion at being foiled in his attempt
to regain his liberty, he forgot his usual reserve and shrewdness. His
grief for the loss of his son and the hatred he entertained toward
Capt. Boling, who he considered as responsible for his death, was
uppermost in his thoughts, and without any of his taciturn, diplomatic
style he burst forth in lamentations and denunciations, given in a loud
voice and in a style of language and manner of delivery which took
us all by surprise. In his excitement, he made a correct use of many
Spanish words, showing that he was more familiar with them than he had
ever admitted even to Sandino; but the more emphatic expressions were
such as may often be heard used by the muleteers of Mexico and South
America, but are not found in the Lexicons. As he approached Capt.
Boling, he began in a highly excited tone: “_Kill me_, sir Captain!
Yes, _kill me_, as you killed my son; as you would kill my people if
they were to come to you! You would kill all my race if you had the
power. Yes, sir, American, you can now tell your warriors to kill the
old chief; you have made me sorrowful, my life dark; you killed the
child of my heart, why not kill the father? But wait a little; when I
am dead I will call to my people to come to you, I will call louder
than you have had me call; that they shall hear me in their sleep,
and come to avenge the death of their chief and his son. Yes, sir,
American, my spirit will make trouble for you and your people, as you
have caused trouble to me and my people. With the wizards, I will
follow the white men and make them fear me.” He here aroused himself
to a sublime frenzy, and completed his rhapsody by saying: “You may
kill me, sir, Captain, but you shall not live in peace. I will follow
in your foot-steps, I will not leave my home, but be with the spirits
among the rocks, the water-falls, in the rivers and in the winds;
wheresoever you go I will be with you. You will not see me, but you
will fear the spirit of the old chief, and grow cold.[13] The great
spirits have spoken! I am done.”
Captain Boling allowed the old orator to finish his talk without
interruption. Although he did not fully understand him, he was amused
at his earnest style and impetuous gestures. On hearing it interpreted,
he humorously replied: “I comprehended the most of what he said. The
old chief has improved. If he was only reliable he would make a better
interpreter than Sandino. As for speech-making, Doc., I throw up. The
old Pow-wow can beat me all hollow.” Ten-ie-ya earnestly watched the
countenance of the good natured Captain, as if to learn his decision in
the matter. The Captain observing him, quietly said: “Sergeant Cameron!
the old sachem looks hungry, and as it is now about supper time, you
had better give him an extra ration or two, and then see that he is so
secured that he will not have a chance to escape from us again.”
I watched the old incorrigible while he was delivering this eloquent
harangue (which, of course, is necessarily a free translation) with
considerable curiosity. Under the excitement of the moment he appeared
many years younger. With his vigorous old age he displayed a _latent_
power which was before unknown to us. I began to feel a sort of
veneration for him. My sympathies had before been aroused for his
sorrow, and I now began to have almost a genuine respect for him;
but as I passed him half an hour afterwards, the poetry of his life
appeared changed. He was regaling himself on fat pork and beans from
a wooden dish which had been brought to him by order of Cameron. This
he seemed to enjoy with an appetite of a hungry animal. His guard had
provided his wooden bowl and ladle by chipping them out of an alder
tree, but failing to finish them smoothly, they could not be _properly_
washed; but this fact seemed not to disturb his relish for the food.
As I looked at his enjoyment of the loaded dish, I now saw only a
dirty old Indian. The spiritual man had disappeared. I addressed him
in Spanish, but not a word of reply; instead he pointed to his ear,
thereby indicating that he was deaf to the language. Afterwards he even
repudiated his “_Medicineship_.”