We were treated with some exhibitions of this incomprehensible phenomenon while on this journey. The séance was not conducted with the aid of pine tables or the laying on of hands; the medium, or clairvoyant, working himself by wild motions of his arms and head into the proper condition. He announced that the Klamaths were at that minute encamped at a certain place, and designated the day on which they would meet us.
Subsequent investigation established the correctness of the prophecy. Whether the knowledge was obtained through fire-signals, or by the medium of spirit communication, this deponent sayeth not. There is a general understanding among them as to fire-signals, even when they have no knowledge of each other’s language.
The meeting with the Klamaths and Snakes was one of interest to all parties, from the fact that they had been enemies, and the chiefs had not met in person since peace was restored. Living in the country intervening was a small tribe of Wal-pah-pas, who were half Snake and half Klamath. They were mediators, though sometimes fighting on alternate sides, as interest or affront gave occasion.
The Klamath chief and his people had made camp, and were awaiting our arrival. The chief first addressed me, as the high chief, stating that he had heard of me, and was anxious to “see my eyes and heart, and welcome me to Klamath.” I replied by
saying, “I have brought with me a man of your own color. He comes to live on Klamath.” Then, extending my hand, the chief of the Klamaths advanced and exchanged greetings with me, and also with O-che-o, chief of the Snakes. This man I consider a remarkable character. Mild-mannered, smooth-voiced, unassuming, unused to ceremonies that were not savage, he exhibited traits of character worthy of emulation by more pretentious people.
In this informal council he responded to Allen David, the Klamath chief: “I met this white man. He won my heart with strong words. I came with him. I once thought I could kill all the white men. I have lost nearly all my young men fighting. I am tired of blood. I want to die in peace. I have given my heart all away. I will not go to war. I am poor. I have few horses. I do not know how to work. I can learn. We will be friends. I will live forever, where this new chief places me. I am done.”
After these greetings and the supper over, we gathered around huge fires of pine and spruce logs, and talked in a friendly manner. Singular spectacle, away out on the unsettled plains of Eastern Oregon, to see a meeting wherein were representatives of two races and seven different tribes, speaking as many different languages, sitting in peace and harmony, without fear of harm, telling stories, some of which were translated into the several tongues.
To illustrate how these talks were conducted: a white man speaks in his own language, a Warm Spring Indian repeats it to his own people, who, in turn, tell it to a Klamath, he to a Modoc, and then it goes through the Wal-pah-pa’s mouth to the
Snake’s. Often three or four sentences, of different sense, are being translated at the same time. Some wild stories are told; but oftener the white man furnishes the subject, at the solicitation of some red men asking information.
The night wears away, the fires grow dim, and, one by one, the talkers drop out of the circle, and retire to sleep unguarded. The morning sun finds the camp active, and preparation being made for moving forward. The horses and mules are driven into camp, about as motley a band as the people who were squatting around the various breakfast tables on the ground. The scenes of such a camp are enlivening indeed. Tents falling, lodges taken down, horses neighing and losing company, all bustle and confusion, while the teams are being harnessed, and the mules and Indian ponies are being saddled and packed,—the spectacle presented is an exhilarating one. But if you would enjoy the full benefit of it, take a position on the side of the camp from which we take our departure, and, while you rest your elbows on your saddled horse, take items.