The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-06-21
THE REDS GOT LEMBERT.
He HAD VIOLATED THEIR GRAVES
N SEARCH or RELICS.
The FatnI Enthusiasm of a Hermit
Naturalist and Antiquarian Who
Lived Near the summit of the
Sierra Nevada Mountains.

From the San Francisco Examiner.
Some Indian relics IN the Smithsonian
Institution have been paid for In coin Of
human blood John Lembert. who dug
them uD and sent them there. has been
murdered In his lonely cabin on the
MERGED river.
He knows me and will never forget
me-" said Lembert once. "and occasional
ly I see him al a distance. He dogs my
steps and peers at me from half-hidden
places, and one day. perhaps. he will get
me-"
He has got him. The Indian is patient;
he bldes his time. but never abandons his
purpose. This is the true Indian, and the
Yosemite Indian Is a true one.
Old John Lembert, naturalist and her
nit. had lived in the TuOlumne meadows
near the summit of the Sierra Nevada
Mountains. during the greater part OF
each year for something ike twenty
years. The winters he passed in YOse-
mite, mostly IN a little cabin down on the
Merced-the same in which his body was
found two weeks ago
There IS no more enchanting mountain
valley in California than the Tuoumne
meadows, 800 feet above the level OF
the sea There are miles Of rich meadow
land through which meanders the Tue
lumne river, fresh from the glaciers or
MOUNT Dana ana the slopes OF Llell.
About the meadows on all sides are spaci-
Gus groves Of alpine tim ber, fir and tam
arack and juniper, that rise up TO the
bases or great granite domes and peaks,
the highest and grandest IN this part Of
the Sierra. Below. the river1plunges into
the grand canon of the Tuolumne; above
tower Mount Dana and Mount Gibbs; 10
the southeast Lyeil and Mcclure dip
their black needles in the sky; on the
north stand Mount CONFESS and Castle
Peak, and, rising almost out of the floor
aH HHmrH p IA Of
Fairview Dome and Soda Spring, or Lem
berts Dome, as 1t is more frequently
called.
1t was here that old Lembert-middle-
aged Lembert then-built his cabin and
stalked off a quarter section in the CEN
ter OF the valley, on the margin OF the
grass, and matter OF seVenty-nYe yards
from the fine soda spring which all tray
elers remember, some with pleasant
thoughts, others with wry faces. Who he
was or where he came from ] do not know.
1 have asked these questions of many
persons who were acquainted with him
some as intimately as IL was possible to
become with John Lembert-but evidently
he had never told them.
In summer and until late in the fall the
Tuolumne meadows are a paradise. Save
for an occasional storm which is over
IN no time: 1t is one long spring day.
Birds and bees and butterflies and my
RAIDS of insects-sOme not altogether well
come-make their home here and many
kinds of flowers bloom in succession, not
est and on the loftiest crags. Here the old
man lived alone, eating enough to sustain
IRE and studying the fauna and flora.
When his money ran lOW-and he never
had much-he would catch some butter
flies, rare In other attitudes, and send
them below to eastern museums, 20
Berkeley and later to Stanford. He got
little for these specimens, but Lembert
could live on almost nothing
He was fair all-round naturalist but
entomology was his specially and butter
b rasHf
named after him. He possessed many of
the standard works on these subjects, and
also some general literature, but in the
latter he had evidently exhausted his in
terest by frequent perusal. for he became
intoxicated with delight on occasionally
being given books or magazines by visit
ors to the meadows In recent years many
OF the university students stopping at the
soda spring donated him what reading
matter they might happen to have with
them, and afterward sent him more frem
the Yosemite or from their homes He was
a man evidently of some attainments His
language was faultless, and his command
of Latin-of which he seemed somewhat
proud-indicated thorough classical ed
ucation.
Near the river, some distance below
the great valley that was once all their
own, sleep the forefathers of the one
time proud and powerful tribe of Yose-
mites. Their graves are simply marked:
the spot is secluded one, and few even
among the Indians approach it. The lit
us lIOOpS VI 1OseuiteS LudI yet remain
revere this long graveyard as some
thing sacred, and tread softly as they
pass it by on their way to the pools
where the big trout hide In the shadow
Of the boulders.
THE old Yosemites" said Lembert 10
me one evening in his learned way, "hao
some funeral customs eminently charac-
teristic of the typical American alb.
origine. Their obsequies were attended
with some little pomp and ceremony
and there were invariably inferred with
the dead the. personal possessions thai
they most valued or which were esteem.
ed particularly characteristic of them
Thus were preserved many curious rel
Glow do you know?" I asked, limo
Gently.
Old Lembert paused He was not a
| communicative man. You could get him
| TO go back to his coming to the mead
| ows-no further OF course, I did no
know the question would be an embar
RAISING one.
well, I will tell YOU" he said. ant
! this was the only confidence I ever go
| from John Lembert II have dug III
| some Of the bodies. stripped them of theil
| beads and trinkets, taken the hatchetl
and arrows placed beside them. and fllet
| up the graves again, just as before. Wha
did l do with them? Oh, | sent them K
! the Smithsonian, where they have beer
| placed in the splendid museum of an
| thropology. l understand they had very
! little or nothing there from the Yosem
! ties"
1t seems he had been well paid 70,
them. l should Judge so, at least, from
a subsequent remark.
And the Indians?" I asked.
! The old man frowned Just perceptibly
! and stroked his white beard. "dThey dom
! like II a Bit" he replied, dryly. 81 i'm
| agined how they would feel about it, 81
! I tried to avoid their seeing me- Tn,
| only time 1 felt safe was during we
weather. Then 1 used to go out with picl
| and shovel and dig in the pouring rain
! 1t was dreary work. but used to keep a
| 1t, one grave one time, one another
| "One afternoon late, as l was busily dig
| glng, the heavy rain that had been fallins
| suddenly stopped and in the stiffness tina
| ensued heard footsteps. As l turned tn,
! sound ceased, but caught a glimpse of al
! Indian gliding behind a big boulder On
! eyes met-only for a fraction of a sec
| ond, but long enough for me to read tn,
| expression of his face l waited. bu
/ heard nothing. After a while 1 approach
! ed the rock cautiously, but he was gone
! Evidently l had not covered the grave,
| Skilfully enough to cheat the eve of al
! Indian-or perhaps his discovery was on,
| of mere accident.
! 1T must have besn year after whei
| an old Indian woman murmured a peculia
! word as 1 passed her. yet with a face s,
! impressive / could not imagine what man
/ ner of thought she might have had n
mind. Some months later another Indiai
/ repeated the word as I passed him. SIT
! ting near his hut with knees bent llnda