The head is cooked in better shape. A hole is dug in the ground, in which a fire is made, and, when burned down, the embers are removed, and the head of the old Government ox is dropped in just as it left the butcher’s hands. Hair, horns, and all are covered up with ashes and coals, a fire made over it and left to cook. After a few hours it is removed, and
is then ready to serve up; or rather it (the head) is placed upon the ground, and the hungry Indians, each armed with a knife, surround it and proceed to carve and eat. Portions that may be too raw are then thrown on the coals and charred; even the bones are eaten. Among the old and poor people, they carefully preserve their respective ox’s feet, and, when in want, throw them on the coals, and the meal is prepared in short order.
Uncivilized Indians have no regular hour for meals, but generally each one consults convenience, seldom eating together except on feast occasions. Neither have they regular hours for sleeping or rising, each member of a family or tribe consulting their own pleasure.
While we watch the novel scenes of Indians “getting wood,” water, cooking, and eating, we see the enterprising young Klamaths—now released from the order forbidding their hurrying down to the Modoc camps—hasten there, some to renew old acquaintance, others to tell in soft tones to the listening ears of Modoc maidens the tale that burdened their hearts, and to negotiate for new wives; or it may be, through the mediation of a “deck” of greasy cards, to persuade the Modocs to divide goods with them.
These Klamath boys had received their new clothes a few days previous, and had soiled them enough to make them comport well with Indian toilets. While we are engaged making observations, cast the eye westward over the valley of the Klamath, and see the huge shadows approach like great moving clouds, until suddenly they start up the sloping hill-side towards us. Look closely now at the sun resting a
moment on the summit of Mount McGlaughlin. See it settle slowly, as though splitting the crown of the mountain in twain, until, while you gaze, he drops quickly out of sight. Little children say he has burned a hole in the mountain, and buried himself there. But, oh, the shadows have crept over us, and we feel the chill which ensues. Look above and behind us, and see them climb the rocky crags until we are all “in the shadow.”
We now see our teamster boys piling high the pitch-pine logs, and soon the crackling flames begin to paint fresh shadows round us. The dark forms of long-haired men gather in circles round the fire; for we are to have a “cultus wa-wa,” (a big free talk). White men and Indians change their base as smoke or flame compels, and all, in half gloomy silence, wait the signal to begin. A white man speaks first of his people, their laws, religion, and habits; tells how law is made; how the white man found his religion; the history of the Bible; extols his own faith, and labors to reconcile in untutored minds the difference betwixt good and bad, right and wrong, and by simple lessons to instil the great precepts of Christianity.
The red man listens with sober face and thoughtful brow. When opportunity is made, he puts queries about many things they do not know. This is not an official council, so all feel free to speak. An old Indian, with his superstitious habits and ideas clinging to him, like a worn-out blanket in tatters, clutching the old with one hand, and with the other reaching out for the new, rises, and with great dignity tells of the religious faith of his fathers, and makes apology for their ignorance and his own; says, “I have
long heard of this religion of the white man. I have heard about the ‘Holy Spirit’ coming to him. I wonder if it would ever come to my people. I am old, I cannot live long. May be it has come now. I feel like a new kind of fire was in my heart. May be you have brought this ‘Holy Spirit.’
“I think you have. When you came here first we were all in bad blood. Now I see Klamaths, Modocs, Snakes, and Ya-hoo-skins, all around me like brothers. No common man could do this. May be you are a holy spirit. When I was a young man I saw a white man on his knee telling the ‘Holy Spirit’ to come. May be the Great Spirit sent you with it.”