It is now October 2d, 1873. A long scaffold is erected; a more finished machine than the one on the peninsula. Ghastly and gloomy, it stands out on the open plat of meadow, with six ropes hanging from the beams.
The traitor scouts seem to take great interest in this instrument of death, which they have unjustly escaped.
Whether conscience troubles these worthies is a matter of some doubt; but that they were exempt from execution was a very satisfactory arrangement to them,—though to no one else, except their own families.
On the day before the execution, Gen. Wheaton, accompanied by a Catholic priest (Father Huegemborg), Post Chaplain, with Oliver Applegate and Dave Hill, a Klamath Indian, as interpreter, visited the prison for the purpose of informing the doomed men of the sentence.
The venerable father opened the painful interview by shaking hands with the convicts. He told them that Christ died for all men; that if they accepted him they would be saved. The prisoners listened attentively to every word. This was especially the case with Captain Jack, and Schonchin.
Gen. Wheaton then requested the chaplain to inform them of the decision of the President. He did so in a few feeling words. While it was being interpreted to them not a muscle moved; no sound was heard save the voice of the speakers.
The scene was a very impressive one. After a few moments of awful silence, the lips of the fallen chief began to move. His voice was soft, low, and scarcely audible:—
“I have heard the sentence, and I know what it means. When I look in my heart I see no crime. I was in favor of peace: the young men were not ready for peace,—they carried me with them. I feel that while these four men—Bogus, Shacknasty, Hooker, and Steamboat—are free, they have triumphed over me and over the Government. When I surrendered I expected to be pardoned, and to live with my people on Klamath land.”
When asked by Gen. Wheaton, which member of the tribe he wished to take charge of the people, he evinced some emotion. After a short pause, he replied, “I can think of no one; I cannot trust even Scar-faced Charley.” He asked if there was no hope of pardon. When assured that the sentence would be executed, he again asked if both sides of the case had been laid before the President.
On being told that the President had been informed of all that had been done, and that he need not entertain any hope of life, but to pay attention to what the chaplain said, he replied, “I know that what he says is good, and I shall follow his advice. I should like to live until I die a natural death.”