Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1878-12-12

1 tavorite stills, however, of great age
n many farmers cellar in this county
which could not be bought for $lO.-
2or. ". Y. Sua.
THE LAST OF THE moDocs.
Bogus Charley and His Diminishing |
Braves. |;
Leaving the barbaric glitter and filth
# the camp of the Nez Perces, with the
azy braves lying in their tents, the
bartering their government ra-
ions with the traders, the medicine men
oeating the lodge-poles and making their
loleful mummery, we started on return
intending to visit some Of the Modocs
who occupy large reservation IN the
These people came here in
1873; or rather they were brought here
by the government, virtually as pun
ishment for having engaged in the Mo-
doc massacre and the hostilities in the
lava beds; and are compelled to remain.
The Modocs, | believes, had in measure
abandoned nomadic life, and were set
ting gradually into pastoral habits be-
fore the outbreak of hostilities, SO that
at the close of the war, when the present
occupants of this reservation came
here. they were so far removed from the
blanket Indians in their progress towards
civilization that they settled down, as
general thing, to the business Of cult
waiting the soil without feeling the
change very seriously. We saw only one
or two of the log buildings in which they
live, and these st distance. They
looked as though they might be comfort
able for shelter, but that was all. The
square log hut, for which the Indian ex-
changes his comical wigwam, is not an
inviting structure, even though it be
roomier and better defended from the
weather; and when came to contrast
the graceful form of the tent and the
bright colors of the camp in the
savage life we had just seen with the
somber and gloomy aspect of these ugly
square cabins, into which civilization
invites the Indian as his first step out Of
savagery, I could hardly wonder that
the barbaric love Of bright colors and
graceful forms should draw him back SO
strongly to the old life.
A field of $50 acres of corn, cultivated
by the Modocs, was shown US. In tie
field were several members Of the tribe
gathering the crop, and among them b.
gus Charley, the present chief. We
stopped at the edge Of the field to feed
our horses, and at our invitation Bogus
Charley came out, and we talked to him
about the present condition and pros
poets of the tribe, He speaks English
quite we'll and understands readily or.
binary conversation. Like all the II.
dams we saw, he seemed shy and silent,
answering our questions freely, but
making no conversation himself. He
told us there was 155 in the party that
cam, in 1873, but that they had dwindlec
down by death to 100. In answer to ou1
inquiry if they were contented, he said
sadly, ooh, we'll, I expect we stay here
now. We no get back" "But don't
you like it here" "No, we not like
it," he said. "Too many die. We
come here one hundred and fifty-fve-
we only one hundred now. Ali over
there" and he pointed to the buria
place over on hillside half a mile away
There was an exquisite tenderness il
his way of saying this, and his zone
hummer now" was so full of gentlenes
and gravity that, though he did not ain
at any effect be yond answering us, II
did really touch the feelings of Us all
Then when we asked him if be wanted
to 20 back to his old home among tn
lava beds, his eyes just frightened
little and turned westward with the far
away look OF inconsistencies and longing
and he said, eyes, I like to 60 back; n!
sister there; my friends there"
was much interested in this chief
Bogus Charley. Other Indians com
planned or begged, were sullen or haugh
ty either posed or groveled. This mar
with felt hat, blue shirt, and overall:
without bead or feather, or touch G
color, an utterly unheroic person i
appearance, with no effort at display Q
attempt to excite sympathy or admirs
ton, seemed to me great in the simplicit
of his talk, his unstudied eloquence, hi
profound natural pathos, his dignit
without haughtiness, and grace withou
aflectation, and greatest of all in til
philosophic resignation with which h
accepted his fate with hardly murmu
or complaint. As he stood there on
; little eminence overlooking the corr
; field, his arms folded and his 1.-THE fgur
} limned against the sky, not looking s
us as we drove away, it was not difitu
to picture in him a heroic last of tn
, Modocs. He had said little, but the ton
and manner of what he did say SO in
pressed me that for while l did feel {
, though this man represented an a!
, grieved and despoiled race, and that
as representative Of the race that ha
wronged him, had something to be sorr
for, presume l idealize him. Well, .
any rate, have the picture and that
shall retain. But what an uEromant
> name! "Bogus Charley" Well, i
/ him be Bogus, and 60 back to the squal>
J of his cabin. The picture in my men
, DRY is of "The Last of the Modocs," an
transfused with a glow from the sunse
Bogus Charley is fact, and clod, (
, course. My Indian is a poem.-Cor,
spondent N. Y. Tribune.
); A Sunset Bird.