she was, probably, the most sagacious individual belonging to the band. This Indian queen has had many opportunities for improvement, having been sold to five or six white men in the last ten years.
While she has induced so many different men to buy her of her brother, she has made each one, in turn, anxious to return her to her people; but not until she had squandered all the money she could command. It has been denied that Captain Jack was ever a party to these several matrimonial speculations; but more strongly asserted, by those who ought to know, that “Queen Mary” has been a great source of wealth to him. I am of that opinion myself, after weighing all the facts in the case.
On the morning in question Mary appeared to plead for her absent brother, that he might be forgiven, saying that he was no coward, but that he was scared; that he was not to blame for running, and that she could induce him to return. It was finally arranged that she should go to the “Lava Bed” in company with our guide, Gus Horn, and assure her brother that no harm had befallen the camp, and none would fall on them.
One day was spent in collecting the Indian ponies, taking Indian provisions from the “caches,” and negotiating with the runaways for their return, which was not accomplished. The following morning the camp was broken up, and all the Indians, big and little, old and young,—as we supposed at the time,—were started to the Reservation. Some were on ponies, many of them on our wagons, and perhaps a few on foot.
We reached Link river, where fires had been made,
beef and flour prepared, and by nine, P.M., everybody seemed contented, except the personal friends of the runaways.
Messengers were kept on the road between our camp and the “Lava Beds” almost constantly for the three days we remained at Link river. Finally the great chief surrendered, and “came in,” on assurances that “the Klamaths should not be permitted to make sport of him, and call him a coward for running from our small force.” This, then, was the ultimatum, and was accepted, and, as far as possible, kept faithfully on our part.
The sight presented by Captain Jack and his men, when they arrived at Link river, if it could have been witnessed by those who have taken so great an interest in him, would have dispelled all ideas of a “Fennimore Cooper hero.”
I cannot forbear mentioning an incident characteristic of the Modocs. While waiting for Jack and his remaining braves, I accidentally learned that an old woman had been left in camp on Lost river, and, asking for the reason, was told that she was too old to dig roots, or to work, and they had left her some wood and water, and a “little grub,” enough for her to die easy on. A pair of new blankets, bread, sugar and meat, were prepared to send her; also a horse to ride, and volunteers asked for, to bring the old woman in. Not a volunteer came forward, save a “young buck,” who was willing, provided he could have the blankets and pony, should he find her dead, or if she should die on the road. It needed no reflection to understand that that meant murder.
After much difficulty, the family to whom the old