Wigwam and war-path; or, The royal chief in chains

by A. B. Meacham

But Jack’s power was evidently on the wane; he was no longer a dictator, with unlimited confidence and authority. Scar-faced Charley and some of the rest very deliberately declared they would talk; they told Bogus they were tired of fighting, and didn’t want to be driven around all the time, afraid of their lives, and obliged to live like dogs. They complained bitterly of their hardships and poverty, and that they could not see their friends as of old time. Bogus told them that the soldiers and Warm Springs Indians were coming right after them; that Gen. Davis had ordered them to hunt the Modocs down, and they would do so. Then they wanted to know when the soldiers would come; the answer was, at any place and at any moment. Some of them bitterly asked if they four were intending to bring the soldiers there; but Bogus evaded that by saying the soldiers would come anyhow. Despite Jack’s command, and his refusal to talk, the four spies had a long, free conversation with their old associates, and the result was to greatly increase the demoralization existing in their ranks. The talk ended without any promise being made, and the four spies returned the next afternoon, and were intercepted at Applegate’s ranch, on Clear lake, Gen. Davis having in the mean time removed to that place. The spies were detained there, and word was sent to have the troops immediately move, and the next morning (Thursday), at daybreak, they were in motion, bound for the last Modoc stronghold.

The Modoc spies seem to have acted in the most perfect good faith. They, with Fairchild in company, went with the troops, which were under command of Col. Green, and led them directly

to the place, warning them as they drew near that they might be ambushed, and advising every necessary precaution. The troops, in three squadrons, each with a detachment of Warm Springs Indians, moved to within three miles of the Modoc camp about eleven o’clock Thursday morning, and were then divided. Hasbrouck and his command, guided by Hooker Jim, taking the north side of the cañon; Col. Green and the remaining force, with Steamboat Frank as their guide, going on the south side; Fairchild and the other two spies being in company. The Modocs seem not to have dreamed that the troops could reach them so soon, and had no strict watch out. No one was seen until within less than a mile of Jack’s centre, when the troops ran on four Modoc sentinels. Frank gave advice to surround the camp by sending men around and over a little mountain, and, this being done, a march was ordered and the Warm Springs got within three hundred yards of three Modocs, who hallooed not to shoot, and wanted to know what they were bringing so many men there for; they wanted to talk. Fairchild and the Modoc guides were sent for, and a talk had. Boston Charley came over to see Fairchild, and laid his gun down; the Warm Springs Indians all laid their guns down, and came over and shook hands with him in the most amicable manner. Movements were stopped to give opportunity for the surrender of the band, and a talk was progressing, when an unfortunate accident made the Modocs scatter in apprehension. Modoc Frank, one of the guides, happened to have his gun accidentally discharged by the hammer catching as he turned his horse. The Modocs evidently supposed that Boston Charley, who had been sent to talk, had been shot, and that caused a stampede, and prevented the surrender that evening. Boston said they all wanted to quit the fight, and he was told to go back and tell them all to come in and lay down their arms. While he was attempting to do this, Hasbrouck’s men closed up on the other side and made him prisoner, not knowing the errand he was engaged on. Donald McKay sent word over to let him go free, as the Indians wanted to come in; but Boston had been delayed an hour and a half, and he came back at dark with word that the Indians had all run away, except seven squaws, including Captain Jack’s sister and some children, who were captured.

At early day, on Friday, the troops moved up each side of the cañon, skirmishing for three miles, when scouts came in and reported

that the trail led off north, toward Gainox, and laid on high ground, where it was difficult to track. The troops followed it until noon, when they struck Langell’s valley in twelve miles. The Modocs were in scattered bands. About one o’clock Fairchild, the Modoc guide, and some Warm Springs Indians struck a plain trail, and followed it for about six miles north-east, and discovered three bucks ahead, who called back and then ran away. They were headed off, and ran down into a cañon and hid. During the day thirteen bucks and a number of women got into the same cañon, and were discovered by the Warm Springs Indians. A few shots were fired by Captain Jack himself, but it was thought that he didn’t try to hit anybody, and only fired to keep them off. They called to each other, and Scar-faced Charley came down off the bluffs and talked with Dr. Cabanis. Scar-face said Captain Jack was there, and they all wanted to give up. Dr. Cabanis went up and talked with Jack, who wanted to know what they would do with him. He said he would surrender the next morning; it was late then, and their women were tired. He said they were out of food and clothes; that their feet were sore, and that all hands would come in in the morning and give up their guns.

That happened on Friday evening, the 30th of May. The troops then went down to Lost river, five miles, and camped. Dr. Cabanis and Modoc Mose, one of the captured Indians, afterwards went back to the Modoc camp, and carried them a supply of bread, and stayed all night. They returned the next morning with the word that Jack had gone before their return, and left behind some pretext that he went to find a better camp on the bluff. But that morning Scar-faced Charley came in and laid his gun down, and did it with an exceeding sorrowfulness, as if he felt and understood all that he surrendered in doing so. Scar-face is more respected than any other Indian, and there is much sympathy felt for him among the whites, as he went to war unwillingly, and has done his work in open warfare, and not been engaged in any savage and merely murderous work. He is considered the best and bravest of the entire Modoc band of braves. Next came Sconchin John, the old villain, who drove the tribe to war more than almost any other man, and who is considered responsible for many of the inhuman acts committed. He laid down his repeating rifle, with a look of the most profound and savage mistrust and gloomy sorrow.

His manner was untranslatable, for he had much to dread, and all his fears and half his hate of white men were visible in his sullen manner. The lesser lights then came up in turn, and went through the form of surrender. There were twelve or thirteen in all who gave up their guns, and all of them gave evidence of gloomy terror. They were shown a place to camp on Lost river, in Langell’s valley, and the next morning were sent with Fairchild, Lieut. Taylor, of the artillery, and sixteen mounted light-battery men, to Gen. Davis’ quarters, at Jesse Applegate’s, on Clear lake.

In the mean time Gen. Davis had sent Maj. Trimble, with his squadron, including some Warm Springs scouts, with young Applegate and Jesse Applegate’s nephew, Charley Putnam, as guides, to intercept Captain Jack, in an easterly direction. They struck the trail ten miles north-east, and followed it five miles south, back to the Willow creek cañon, below the first Modoc place of retreat or stronghold. Then part of the force crossed to the south side and skirmished up the cañon. The scouts soon discovered a Modoc man, named Humpy Joe, a hunchback, who is half-brother to Captain Jack. He asked for Fairchild, and Charley Putnam told him he was on the other side of the creek, and asked where Captain Jack was. Humpy said he was down the creek, hid in the rocks, and would surrender to-morrow. Charley said they had him surrounded, and he must surrender now. He and Maj. Trimble went with Humpy Joe, who called for Captain Jack to come forth, and the famous chief stepped boldly out on a shelf of rock, with his gun in his hand. He showed no timid fear or trepidation, and his conduct commanded the admiration of those who were his captors, for a certain sort of native dignity was apparent, and even in defeat, and at the moment of his surrender, the great Modoc chief was self-possessed, and acted a manly part. Major Trimble went up to him and demanded his gun. He also asked if Fairchild was there, and, learning that he was near, gave up his trusty Springfield rifle, a remodelled breech-loader. Thus ended the Modoc war, for its soul and leading spirit of evil stood there a captive, with his arms given up, and powerless for future evil. There were two others with him, and four squaws and their children made up the list of prisoners taken at that time. Captain Jack had two wives, and one of them had a bright little girl of six years old.

Captain Jack then walked coolly up to where the Warm Springs

Indians were, and they, with a commendable spirit of forbearance, and no doubt with an appreciation of the heroism that had so long and successfully resisted them, laid down their guns, and all around shook hands with the Modoc chief. They talked some with him; but he is not much of a talker either in English or Chinook, and his half brother, Humpy Joe, did most of the talking. Captain Jack then called up the squaws and children, and they were all mounted behind the Warm Springs Indians, and started for Gen. Davis’ camp, ten miles distant. It would seem as if the Modoc chief must have felt crest-fallen, and have been humiliated to find himself mounted in the same manner; but those who saw it say that, mounted behind a Warm Springs Indian, he still bore himself with dignity, and sat there like a Roman hero, as my informant graphically expressed it. He never moved a muscle or bore evidence in his look that he felt humiliated at his defeat. He bowed to Fairchild as he passed him, but made no other sign.