How little we knew then of the near future, when Gen. Canby and Dr. Thomas would be carried, in rough-made coffins, up the zigzag road that we went down on that day!
Our new camp was pitched near the foot of this high bluff, and immediately on the shore of the lake. From it, with a field-glass, we could see Capt. Jack’s people moving around their rocky home, not more than one mile and a half, air-line, though two miles around by land.
While my memory is still green with the scenes that followed, and I have not justified and will not justify or seek to palliate the crimes of the Modocs, still I cannot forget some of the meditations of the half hour I sat with Dr. Thomas, when half-way down the bluff, up which I was not to go at all, and the doctor only as a corpse.
I have recollections yet of a part, at least, of the conversation between us. We were representing one
of the most powerful governments in the world, and bearing peace and human kindness in our hearts, while passing us, as we sat, were the sinews of war,—armed soldiers by the hundred. Cannon were being dragged down the hill, tents were being erected, and all the circumstance of military power and display was at our feet or above us, hastening to compel an infuriated, misguided people to acknowledge the authority of our Government.
Over yonder, within range of our glasses, were a half-hundred men, unlettered, uncivilized, and infuriated by a superstitious religious faith, that urged them to reject the “olive-branch” which we came to offer them.
We could see beyond them another army of ten times their number, camping nearer to them.
The doctor was moved by deep feeling of compassion for them, and spoke very earnestly of their helpless condition,—benighted in mind, without enough of the great principles of Christian justice and power to recognize and respect the individual rights of others. Doomed as a race, hopeless and in despair, they sat on their stony cliffs, around their caves, and counted the men, and horses, and guns, that came down the hill to make peace with them, turning their eyes only to see the sight repeated.
Look nearer at the boys with blue dress, as they pass us, bearing camp equipage. Many of the men are going down this hill to stay, unless we can make peace with the Modocs. Our hearts grow sick at the thoughts suggested by our surroundings.
Mutually pledging anew to stand together for peace as long as there was a hope, we slowly followed down to the camp.