Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-06-02

risen between the three tribes, to the exist
ence of which we surely owed the preserva-
ton of this motley mob. Gail Gaul is di-
Tided into three parts," said Rodgers gaily,
quoting from Cesar in good Latin. Does it
read strangely to you that this man, here in
these remote mountains, nearly 40 years
ago, should also have shouted out, in Greek,
the glorious cry of the Ten Thousand when
he, and he alone, stood at nv side and first
saw that sea of flowers below? Well,
strange or not strange, I can only tell the
facts.
How bitter are the little feuds between
helpless little settlements and frontier
townsl And Josephus tells us that there
never was, in all history, such hatred as
arose between the followings of John and of
Simon at the time when Titus, the son Of
Vespasias, sat down in siege around about
Jerusalem. Well, in these awful enmities
read the reason and secret of our being able
to pierce the heart Of hostile Indian coun-
try, to cut through the heart of the Sierras,
indeed, at a time worse than midwinter, to
sit down at the door OF brave and power
full enemy without firing single gun. The
;'three cornered" war among the Indians
made our approach not only possible, but
perfectly secure. The Modoc was delighted
to see us descend upon the Pitt river, while
he paid his attention to the Shasta. They
did not greatly dread US then. They did
not hate us half so bitterly as they hated one
another.
1t was indeed full blown spring when we
set foot among the flowers at the base of the
terrible spurs of Mount Shasta The men
shouted with wild and tumultuous delight.
The horses, relieved of their loads, rolled on
the knee-deep grass; they threw their weary
heels in the air on the third day, and, like
men, began to grow impatient of peace.
Four fights 1 find recorded for the third
day! Indians began to hover about us.
They were Tightening their lines and draw
ing their numbers in increased strength to
solid circle, as did the wolves hack in the
fearful heights of snow. The singular good
fortune of the little army in escaping all
peril thus far had made it insolent. 1t was
ambitious to do battle before the arrival of
reinforcements,
"When will we fight those red devils?"
"We will fight when I get ready to fight"
That night the mob held another election,
and there was new captain. This time the
toughs chose one of their own number, the
best of their number, it is true But that is
not high praise of the new captain.
We had fired a good many shots, and we
had also gathered up many arms that had
been sent US in return. But what the new
captain most desired was not a dead but a
live Indian, and who could tell him how
near reinforcements were, and also tell the
strength and condition of hostile camps.
And with the capture of the live Indian in
view, the new captain, not at all a COM
mander, signaled his election to Office by
taking off his shoes and taking after and at
tempting to run down and capture an
Indian with his own hand. After that dis
cipline was utterly out of the ques-
tion. Besides, we were now on quarter
rations. A secure camp was selected
and fortified and we sat lown to wait for re-
Inducements. And W lille waiting, and
with only quarter ratio ms to keep up their
strength, these gallant men certainly fought;
fought one anotherl And these battles were
not entirely among the toughs either
had young, fair-haired friend, boy in
fact, and the youngest of the expedition ex-
cept myself And it become absolutely
matter of necessity that either this fair
haired boy or Rodgers or myself should
fight one of the insolent bullies.
And so this boy finally went at his work.
He fought like Trojan and refused to cry
out. He was beaten, mercilessly beaten;
he had expected that, but he refused to cry
out, and the ''tough's" friends, not so hard
at heart after all, interfered at last of their
own will and led both boy and bully, each
one blinded from blood and bruises, down
to the river bank; and as they washed their
wounds, they praised my boy friend glori-
ously for his valor.
All, me, my fair-haired little ssLum,"
this was long, long ago, nearly 40 years agol |
And your yellow hair, like my own, is |
taking on the whiteness of the snow banks |
that first knew our friendship. But, "Lum"
Ray, l love you now as loved you then. It |
was for me, frazier boy, you fought,
"Lum" Ray, nearly 40 years ago on the |
bloody grass there by the bending river; |
and try to lay this little tribute of thanks |
at your feet.
Reader, do you know that oftentimes I |
dislike to tell all that might tell of these
old days2 "tell the truth" but oftentlmes
not ''the whole truth" The world has gone
forward far in the path of civilization since
then. Those terrific ''fst fights" were as
common, and, indeed, almost as compulsory,
in those DAYS, if you meant to MAINTAIN |
yourself, as the breathing of air. And yet,
good reader, does all this assurance assure |
you that have set down here in this his |
torical narrative only the truth, the clean,
cold, frozen truth? 1 fear not. Then let |
me give you this mans name and pursuit |
and place of residence. am sure he ought |
not to take offense; know, indeed, that he |
will not although it is now more than 80 |
years since have seen his face.
Hearts don't change much, after all;
Men are only boys grown tall"
Believing that DR.. Holmes knew what he |
was saying when he wrote this couplet, and |
knowing that this stout-hearted boy loved |
and trusted me when we were boys together
in battle, 1 know he will not be impatient |
now should you write and ask him all you |
care to know of the details, which 1 must |
hasten over. His name and address is Hon. |
Colum bus Ray, President First National |
Bank, Hepnor, Ore.
And now let US speed forward with the |
conclusion of the war. After a ten days |
siege, starvation, fghts-both in camp |
among ourselves and outside with savages
that lowered unpleasantly close about-the |
long expected reinforcements came from the |
South. And then we feasted! And then we |
fought little among ourselves, testing the |
metal of the new men, as it were, then |
another election; then bloody work beganl |
For the new company had captured a small |
camp of Indians, and from them learned |
that there was white woman prisoner on !
one of the islands in the great valley. And |
my heart was in my throat. Was it really |
she? What cared for the desolated valley |
and the dead? What cared if one or one |
dozen white women still survived the |
massacre? My only concern was could it be
this one whose sad and silent face 1 had
looked upon; this piteously beautiful girl |
whom 1 ought to have made nv own? Only |
time and the god of battle could tell.
CHAPTER V.
THE LOST CAPTIVE.