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they did more! For days, weeks, and months they ranged the hills of Nome Cult, killing every Indian that was too weak to escape; and, what is worse, they did it under a State Commission, which in all charity I must believe was issued upon false representations. A more cruel series of outrages than those perpetrated upon the poor Indians of Nome Cult never disgraced a community of white men. The State said the settlers must be protected, and it protected themprotected them from women and children, for the men are too imbecile and too abject to fight. The General Government folded its arms and said, "What can we do? We can not chastise the citizens of a State. Are we not feeding and clothing the savages, and teaching them to be moral, and is not that as much as the civilized world can ask of us?"

At King's River, where there was a public farm maintained at considerable expense, the Indians were collected in a body of two or three hundred, and the white settlers, who complained that Government would not do any thing for them, drove them over to the Agency at the Fresno. After an expenditure of some thirty thousand dollars a year for six years, that farm had scarcely produced six blades of grass, and was entirely unable to support over a few dozen Indians who had always lived there, and who generally foraged for their own subsistence. The new-comers, therefore, stood a poor chance till the agent purchased from the white settlers, on public account, the acorns which they (the Indians) had gathered and laid up for winter use at King's River. Notwithstanding the acorns they were very soon starved out at the Fresno, and wandered away to find a subsistence wherever they could. Many of them perished of hunger on the plains of the San Joaquin.The rest are presumed to be in the mountains gathering berries.

At the Mattole Station, near Cape Mendoci

no, a number of Indians were murdered on the public farm within a few hundred yards of the head-quarters. The settlers in the valley alleged that Government would not support them, or take any care of them; and as settlers were not paid for doing it, they must kill them to get rid of them.

At Humboldt Bay, and in the vicinity, a series of Indian massacres by white men continued for over two years. The citizens held public meetings, and protested against the action of the General Government in leaving these Indians to prowl upon them for a support. It was alleged that the reservations cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, and yet nothing was

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PROTECTING THE SETTLERS.

So

Nome Lackee? ten thousand at Nome Cult? forty-eight thousand at Mendocino? sixteen thousand at the Klamath? and some fifty or sixty thousand for miscellaneous purposes? that all this had resulted in the reduction of a hundred thousand Indians to about thirty thousand? Meritorious services had been rewarded, and a premium in favor of public integrity issued to an admiring world.

done to relieve the people of this burden. Pe- not Indians. It was wonderful how the emtitions were finally sent to the State authorities,ployés had prospered on their salaries. They asking for the removal of the Indians from that owned fine ranches in the vicinity; in fact, the vicinity; and the State sent out its militia, killed reservations themselves were pretty much cova good many, and captured a good many others, ered with the claims of persons in the service, who were finally carried down to the Mendocino who thought they would make nice farms for reservation. They liked that place so well that white men. The principal work done was to atthey left it very soon, and went back to their old tend to sheep and cattle speculations, and make places of resort, preferring a chance of life to the shepherds out of the few Indians that were left. certainty of starvation. During the winter of What did it signify that thirty thousand dol last year a number of them were gathered at Hum-lars a year had been expended at the Tejon? boldt. The whites thought it was a favorable thirty thousand at the Fresno? fifty thousand at opportunity to get rid of them altogether. they went in a body to the Indian camp, during the night when the poor wretches were asleep, shot all the men, women, and children they could at the first onslaught, and cut the throats of the remainder. Very few escaped. Next morning sixty bodies lay weltering in their blood -the old and the young, male and female-with every wound gaping a tale of horror to the civilized world. Children climbed upon their mothers' breasts, and sought nourishment from the fountains that death had drained; girls and boys lay here and there with their throats cut from ear to ear; men and women, clinging to each other in their terror, were found perforated with bullets or cut to pieces with knives-all were cruelly murdered! Let any who doubt this read the newspapers of San Francisco of that date. It will be found there in its most bloody and tragic details. Let them read of the Pitt River massacre, and of all the massacres that for the past three years have darkened the records of the State.

I am satisfied, from an acquaintance of eleven years with the Indians of California, that had the least care been taken of them these disgraceful massacres would never have occurred. A more inoffensive and harmless race of beings does not exist on the face of the earth. But wherever they attempted to procure a subsistence they were hunted down; driven from the reservations by the instinct of self-preservation; shot down by the settlers upon the most frivolous pretexts; and abandoned to their fate by the only power that could have afforded them protection.

This was the result, in plain terms, of the inefficient and discreditable manner in which pubI will do the white people who were engaged lic affairs were administered by the Federal auin these massacres the justice to say that they thorities in Washington. It was the natural were not so much to blame as the General Gov- consequence of a corrupt political system, which, crnment. They had at least given due warning for the credit of humanity, it is to be hoped will of their intention. For years they had burdened be abandoned in future so far as the Indians are the mails with complaints of the inefficiency of concerned. They have no voice in public afthe agents; they had protested in the newspa- fairs. So long as they are permitted to exist, pers, in public meetings, in every conceivable party discipline is a matter of very little moment way, and on every possible occasion, against the to them. All they ask is the privilege of breathimpolicy of permitting these Indians to roaming the air that God gave to us all, and living in about the settlements, picking up a subsistence peace wherever it may be convenient to remove in whatever way they could, when there was a fund of $250,000 a year appropriated by Congress for their removal to and support on the reservations. What were these establishments for? Why did they not take charge of the Indians? Where were the agents? What was done with the money? It was repeatedly represented that unless something was done the Indians would soon all be killed. They could no longer make a subsistence in their old haunts. The progress of settlement had driven them from place to place till there was no longer a spot on earth they could call their own. Their next move could only be into the Pacific Ocean. If ever an unfortunate people needed a few acres of ground to stand upon, and the poor privilege of making a living for themselves, it was these hapless Diggers. As often as they tried the reservations sad experience taught them that these were institutions for the benefit of white men,

There lay the power

them. Their history in California is a melan-
choly record of neglect and cruelty; and the part
taken by public men high in position in wresting
from them the very means of subsistence, is one
of which any other than professional politicians
would be ashamed. For the Executive Depart-
ment there is no excuse.
and the remedy; but a paltry and servile spirit,
an abject submission to every shifting influence,
an utter absence of that high moral tone which
is the characteristic trait of genuine statesmen
and patriots, have been the distinguishing features
of this branch of our Government for some time
past. Disgusted with their own handiwork; in-
volved in debt throughout the State, after wasting
all the money appropriated by Congress; the ac-
counts in an inextricable state of confusion; the
creditors of the Government clamoring to be
paid; the "honest yeomanry" turning against
the party in power; political affairs entangled

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beyond remedy; it was admitted to be a very bad business-not at all such as to meet the approval of the Administration. The appropriation was cut down to fifty thousand dollars. That would do damage enough. Two hundred and fifty thousand a year, for six or seven years, had inflicted sufficient injury upon the poor Indians. Now it was time to let them alone on fifty thousand, or turn them over to the State. So the end of it is, that the reservations are practically abandoned the remainder of the Indians are being exterminated every day, and the Spanish Mission System has signally failed.

So much-and I could not say less-concerning the Indians of California. I now proceed in my account of the adventures of the Coast Rangers.

On leaving the head-quarters of the reservation we struck the beach about four miles to the northward, where we had a magnificent stretch of hard sand for five or six miles to the crossing at Ten Mile River. The whole party were in fine spirits, plunging their animals into the surf, running away from the heavy breakers, and racing over the sand-hills after the pack-mules. It was a morning to inspire enthusiastic visions of adventure. The air was fresh and bracing, and seemed almost to sparkle with the invigorating spray of the ocean. Every breath of it was worth a day's journey. Along the beach, at intervals of a few hundred yards, groups of In

dians were engaged in catching and packing away in baskets a small species of fish resembling the sardine, which, at particular periods during the summer, abound in vast numbers on this part of the coast. The Indians catch them by means of a small hand-net, which they use in a peculiar and very dexterous manner. Holding the pole of the net in both hands, they watch the breakers as they roll in, and when they see one of suitable force and magnitude coming, they plunge into the surf and turn their backs upon the incoming wave. The moment it breaks they set their nets down firmly in the sand, and the fish are forced into it by the velocity of the receding current. I have seen them take out at a single catch an ordinary-sized bucket full. The old women of the different tribes take away the fish in large baskets to the rancherias, where they are dried in the sun and used as necessity requires. The coast Indians carry on a small trade with those of the mountains and interior valleys, in fish, dried abalone, mussels, shells, and various marine productions, in exchange for which they receive dried berries, acorns, and different kinds of nuts and roots. Of late years, however, they have been so harshly dealt with by the settlers that it is with great difficulty they can procure a scanty subsistence. They are in constant dread of being murdered, and even in the vicinity of the reservations have a startled and distrustful look whenever they are approached by white men.

At Ten Mile River we found the crossing a little dangerous on account of the tide, which sometimes renders it impassable for several hours, except by swimming. With some plunging, spurring, and kicking, the opposite side was gained in due time; and now commenced what might be considered the grand panorama of the coast. For a distance of more than a hundred miles, to Humboldt Bay, it is an almost constant series of ridges, spurs, cañons, and jagged rocks jutting out into the sea, over which runs the worst trail perhaps that ever was traveled by man on the back of any four-footed animal. The mountains that we, the Coast Rangers, climbed up in the course of our perilous expedition through this region; the fearful precipices that we slid down to the bottom of and reached alive; the endless intricacies of winding ridges, pine forests, brush, jungle, and chaparral, that we forced our way through without the loss of a single, member; the bottomless gulches into which Captain Toby led us and induced us to pitch our camp, where man nor beast was never known to spend a night before, save Digger Indians and grizzly bears; the extraordinary amount of game that we slaughtered, including the most formidable wild beasts of the forest, and the roaring lions of the ocean-all these it is entirely beyond my powers to describe, and, indeed, if I possessed the faculty, it would be impossible to enter into a detail of each day's wonderful experiences. I can only here and there dash into the grand vortex of events, and rescue from oblivion some incident that may be floating upon the surface.

By referring to a rough note-book kept by Captain Toby, and politely furnished me by that gentleman at the close of the expedition, I find the following entry, under date of Monday, July 6th:

"This day, at 6 A.M., killed two fine bucks and wounded a large grizzly. Discovered a new trail during the forenoon which cuts off ten miles of the day's journey. At 4 P.M. saved the blue keg containing the vinegar."

There is nothing peculiar in the entry, except the main fact connected with the saving of the vinegar, which is altogether omitted. Captain Toby on the same occasion saved the life of our excellent friend Tom Fry, and as he is too modest to mention the incident, I will state the particulars.

But these must be reserved for another chapter.

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men still thought a wondrous dream-what a picture it would be of antagonistic shadows, most gloomy and sad in every line, albeit the blue heavens were beaming above and the sea glowing in light beneath!

Those tall, lithe-limbed men of muscle, the dark-skinned flashing-eyed warriors of a dozen tribes, standing in their strength and power, bedizened with the barbaric spoils of a hundred victories in the forest, watching with silent eloquence the little heavy-laden storm-tossed skiff the Mayflower of immortal name - gliding slowly over the phosphorescent sea, coming nearer and nearer, until those amazed and wondering heroes discern "the pale faces," can almost understand that their glory was even now vanishing away like the phantoms conjured up in the dark hours of the forest-night. Even now they feel the touch of the stronger arm, and shrink away from the intellect, intelligence, and indomitable will of the invading band gathered at the stem of that little ship, and looking defiance at the swarthy warriors who stand so silently watching those whose iron heels will soon crush out their identity, their individuality, even their names and language.

Slowly, but ever nearer, comes the tempesttossed ship, her weary wings longing to be folded that she might know a little rest; and most gladly does the anchor slide into its oozy bed, and the Mayflower slumbers, lulled by the gentle waves which break in music upon the pebbly beach and against the sides of towering cliffs. Soon light and darkness meet-the civilized Christian and the barbarous, unrelenting savage.

The "pale face" has much to give, much to teach; the red man has little to give and much to learn, and oblivion to endure. Good-will must be encouraged on both sides: the "pale face" shows the wonders of the murderous weapon, and the red man gives his treasure-ears of Indian corn.

Fancy the offering made to these bold, fiery men. How they must have turned with disdain from these artless, impoverished children of the streams and valleys! How easy the conquest must have appeared-how near the result of annihilation when their places would know them no more, and the winds would find no echo when they called them in the forest glades, or beside the glowing rivers! But what a contrast is in these offerings-how significant, how suggestive of the Past and Present, and indicative of the overruling of a Supreme Power! What a glorious gift this was of the red man-how necessary to the existence of millions of human beingsfor maize, in some form or another, is the daily subsistence of the greater part of the population of this country! Dismay and fear would seize the hearts of men if the corn crop should fail ; and every American must say as did "enraptured Barlow,"

"All my bones are made of Indian corn.
Delicious grain!"

Maize, or Indian corn, the Zea Mays of Lin

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FIGURE 1.-AGROTIS MAYIA (CORN CUT-WORM).

a. The Moth. Pupa Case-c. Case of Haustellum.-d Larva of the Moth.-e. Antenna of the Male.

næus, is a grass, one of the large family of Graminea. It is allowed by all botanists to be a native of America, although now distributed throughout every warm climate. Nothing can be more beautiful than a field of Indian corn, with its long, dazzlingly green, flag-like leaves, and the silken tassels hanging from the orifices of the ears, each so carefully wrapped in its protecting sheath.

There are many varieties of maize, red, chocolate-colored, yellow, crimson, and white: all of these are well known to the American planter. It does not thrive in Europe any where north of the basin of the Mediterranean, and poorly any where south of it. But in this country it grows luxuriantly, varying in height from two to eight

feet, according to its variety. The albumen is sufficiently abundant and farinaceous to yield a flour. It does not contain so much starch as rice, but possesses mucilaginous substances found equally nourishing to man and beast. It has been proved by trial that a man will work longer fed solely on Indian corn than on any other grain, and will retain his health unimpaired. Many men, West and South, live mostly the year round with very little addition to their bill of fare. A dish of good hominy is all the laborer asks at the South; and a bowl of "Sepawn" suffices for the woodcutter and tiller of the ground "out West." The passion for it in a green state is extravagantly exhibited by men, women, and children all over the land during the summer months,

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