Year: 1873


Yesterday she was a wife and mother.
To-day she Is rocking her to and fro.
A desola;e willow in weeds and woe
-lSeEgS Of fAe SierTes.


Thus wrote the wild poet of the
Sierras, Joaquin Miller, but little did
the world know of the depth of mean
ing in these lines. Never did it dream
that this squaw, who "sat rocking
her to and and fro, desolate widow
in weeds and Woe" was his OWL
dusky spouse And yet such seems
TO have been the fact, and in the San
Francisco Chronicle we have the
whole Of the wonderful story.


The writer tells US that fifteen
years ago, in a little green valley on
the banks of the Upper Sacramento,
there dwelt remnant of the once
powerful tribe of Taschastas But
little is known of the history of the
tribe, except that they were far above
the average of the California Indi-
an in all that invests the aboriginal
character with sentiment and ro-
nance. They were wild, fierce and
warIike, and for years had held in
undisputed possession the region
overlooked by the snow-eapped dome
of Mount Shasta. The memory Of
this tribe has been immortalized bv
wild, weird, romantic poem from
the pen of Oregon's long haired ver-
sifer-Joaquin Miller, who, in youth,
spent nearly a year in their company,
residing in the wigwam of their chief,
and fishing and hunting with the
young warriors. This romantic IL
cident in the life of the Sierra song
ster is not generally known; but
when the facts are fully recorded his
admirers will be at no loss to account
for the inspiration which guided his
pen through the mazes of poetic
thought and mournfnl fancy which
gave birth to "The Last of the Tas,
chastas."


THE POETS FIRST LOVE.


Here it was that Miller first felt the
awakening of the tender passion, and
here it was that he first aroused into
being the love of one who elung TO
b m even unto death. She was q
dark-eyed, ravcn-baired creature.
with a wealth of love and affection
which she lavished upon the adyen-
turer. joaquin Miller's treatment Of
this poor savage girl reflects but little
credit upon the soul Of so intense a
being as be. 1t finds parallel in his
subsequent demeanor towards the
fair-haired and more cultured being
who bears his name and shares (at a
distancc) the glory that is his. The
two incidents confirm the impression
that, after all. poets can do very mean
things in very practical way.


THE FIRST MEETING.


As the story goes, Miller was at
one time a stock-berder, or some
thisg Of the kind, in Siskiyou county.
One dav in attending to some cattle
in the southern part of the country,
he came across a party Of three young
Indians. Believing that they were
on a cattle stealing expedition be fir
ed upon theR to frighten them away.
but unforfSaately they didn't scare
worth cent, and in about two min
utes the young disciple OF cattle herd
ing and poetry found himself bound
band and foot, and with an ugly bull
let hole through the leshy part of his
leg. The next morning before day.
break be was in the Indian camp a
prisoner. Not knowing what was to
he his fate, blind with anger and NOR
tifcation, and suffering intensely from
bis wound, Miller lay upon his blank
ct the very picture of despair.


1t was while he was in this condi-
ton that he first met the woman who
was to exercise such an influence up
on his future destiny.


THE INDIAN MAIDEN.


She was the daughter of the old
chief of the tribe, young. not over
as beautiful as an
angels dream. Miller, in his poem,
draws the following picture Of her:


aIIari by stood the war chiefs daughter.


Taller than the tasselei corn,


Sveeter than the kiss Of morning,


Sad as some sweet star OF mcrn.


Half defiant, half foriorn-


Rsbed in skins Of striped panther


Lifting loosely TO the air.


With feeting shade Of sorrow.


And black eyes that said, beware.


Nestled In n storm OF hair.


With her striped robes around her,


Fasten'd with an eagles beak.


Stood she by the stately chieffain.


Proud and pure as Shas.a's peak.


Her eyes were black her face was brown.


Her breasts were bare, and there fell down
Snch wealth Of hair, !; almos, hid


The two, In its rich letfy fold


Which had sometimes fain forbid;


They were richer, fuller Ear


Than any polished bronies ere,


And richer hued than any gold.


On her brown arms and her brown hands


Were hoors ofgold and golden bands,