Boston’s reference to the part taken by the chief caused Captain Jack to speak once more, and it was his last that has found record. He seemed anxious to have Hooker and Bogus put on trial,—finally concluded, “If I am to die I am ready to go to see my great Father in the spirit world.” Schonchin was the last to speak:—
The Great Spirit, who looks from above, will see Schonchin in chains, but He knows that this heart is good, and says, “You die; you become one of my people.”
I will now try to believe that the President is doing according to the will of the Great Spirit in condemning me to die. You may all look at me and see that I am firm and resolute. I am trying to think that it is just that I should die, and that the Great Spirit approves of it and says it is law. I am to die. I leave my son. I hope he will be allowed to remain in this country. I hope he will grow up like a good man. I want to turn him over to the old chief Schonchin at Yainax, who will make a good man of him. I have
always looked on the younger men of our tribe as my especial charge, and have reasoned with them, and now I am to die as the result of their bad conduct. I leave four children, and I wish them turned over to my brother at Yainax. It is doing a great wrong to take my life. I was an old man, and took no active part. I would like to see those executed for whom I am wearing chains.
In the boys who murdered the commissioners I have an interest as though they were my own children. If the law does not kill them, they may grow and become good men.
I look back to the history of the Modoc war, and I can see Odeneal at the bottom of all the trouble. He came down to Linkville with Ivan Applegate; sent Ivan to see and talk with Captain Jack. If Odeneal came by himself, all the Modocs would go to Yainax. I think that Odeneal is responsible for the murder of Canby, for the blood in the Lava Beds, and the chains on my feet. I have heard of reports that were sent to Y-re-ka, Ashland, and Jacksonville, that the Modocs were on the warpath, and such bad talk brought Major Jackson and the soldiers down.
I do not want to say my sentence is not right; but after our retreat from Lost river I thought I would come in, surrender, and be secure. I felt that these murders had been committed by the boys, and that I had been carried along with the current. If I had blood on my hands like Boston Charley, I could say, like him, “I killed General Canby”—“I killed Thomas.” But I have nothing to say about the decision, and I would never ask it to be crossed. You are the law-giving parties. You say I must die. I am satisfied, if the law is correct.
I have made a straight speech. I would like to see the Big Chief face to face and talk with him; but he is a long distance off,—like at the top of a high hill, with me at the bottom, and I cannot go to him; but he has made his decision,—made his law, and I say, let me die. I do not talk to cross the decision. My heart tells me I should not die,—that you do me a great wrong in taking my life. War is a terrible thing. All must suffer,—the best horses, the best cattle and the best men. I can now only say, let Schonchin, die!
This was the last speech made by the Modoc convicts.
The chaplain came forward and offered a most eloquent prayer, full of pathos and kindly feeling for the condemned.