The best of the Rogue River Indian Wars stories--these are, in the opinion of the publishers of the Grants Pass Daily Courier, and the editor of this Pioneer Edition, none other than the Courier's own well-told tales of that turbulent time in Southern Oregon beginnings, as set forth by William W. Fidler, and featured weekly in the Courier well back into the early 1920s.
    The Rogue River Indian Wars happened RIGHT HERE--on either bank of our own Rogue River, battles and skirmishes raging from Table Rock and the mountains next beyond, down the river with its most horrible atrocities occurring at sites within hailing distance of our own Grants Pass' center. True, they continued to rage all the way down the river to the sickening debacle of a betrayed people at Gold Beach on Washington's Birthday, in [1856]; all the way across the Illinois Valley to the Oregon-California dividing line mountains, and beyond, and up the reaches of the Applegate River.
    But the war was brought into its sharpest and most poignant focus with the horror of the October 9 massacres in 1855, when family after family, and home after home, were completely destroyed in the Rogues' frenzied onslaught, at the foot of the lovely hills barely to the east and north of this county seat.
    William Fidler wrote his stories of those wars well. He wrote with the forthright conviction of a man who knew from actual living experience what he was writing about. William Fidler set down his stories of those awful years as they were recalled to him by the men who fought these wars.
    Skilled writer that he was, he captured the vernacular of their speech, and thus presented a story sequence of war in a manner at once informative, as well as entertaining--and for the average newspaper reader, the latter requisite is all important, if he is to be coaxed through to the end of any long news column.
    Frequently Fidler exhibited that rare sixth sense of a good newspaper man--that someone else could tell, or already had told, the story better than he, and he willingly starred them with all due credit, as he wove their salty bits into his own main theme of the war stories.
    It is with much the same humility as well as with downright appreciation of well-told story matter that this writer herewith confers upon fine old William W. Fidler, now long since gathered unto his forefathers, the honor of the "byline" for the story of the Rogue River Indians Wars as set forth in this Pioneer Edition, which thus marks the 75th anniversary of the publication of this Grants Pass Courier.
    The stories are set forth as told in weekly issues of the Courier starting August 24, 1923.
    Side stories, which, it is hoped, will add much to the readers' general knowledge of the times have been gleaned from the historical writings as set forth by A. G. Walling in his History of Southern Oregon, and himself an early-day settler and miner up Democrat Gulch, back of old Browntown and Tigertown; from Bancroft's (historical) Works, particularly Volume II, covering the history of Oregon from 1848 to 1888; and, for specialized authority, The Early Indian Wars, as compiled by Frances Fuller Victor at the behest of the Oregon State Legislature as their official record of the period.
    Certain specifics have also been taken verbatim from the Congressional Record of those days, where topics pertinent to the Oregon wars were dealt with.
    But of these latter…all such but serve to enhance and authenticate some point or other covered along the way in the entertaining tales of the wars as set forth by the Courier's friend of long ago--William W. Fidler. (A.F.B.)
Grants Pass Daily Courier, April 2, 1960, page 1  The sources of the quotes Fidler cobbled together into the account below can most likely be clarified by reference to his original scrapbook, in the archives of the Southern Oregon Historical Society.]




    To write up Oregon history without any reference to General Joseph Lane, the Marion of the Mexican War, would be like recounting the experiences of Hamlet with the Prince of Denmark left out. Hence early in my assortment of chronicles I run across his name in many ranges of activity. My first excerpt, however, has to do with mining rather than military affairs. The latter will soon follow.
    "Early in February 1851," says Sutton, "General Joseph Lane," assisted by Elijah Steele, Esq., raised a company of prospectors to go to the new diggings on Scotts River, at which place they arrived about the last of February of that year. Upon their arrival on the upper waters of Scotts River the Indians, who heard of General Lane through the Rogue River Indians, learning that he was the leader of the company, came into the camp and expressed a desire that all hostilities between them and the whites should close and that General Lane should be the chief over both parties.
Lane Holds Men
    This proposition was a great relief to the miners, for up to this time they had to keep a strict guard over their horses and camps, day and night. It was therefore agreed that their head men should come in and have a talk.
    Among the Indians that came according to agreement was the chief of the Scott Rivers, whom they christened "John" and his wards "Old Man," chief of the band that occupied the country where Yreka is located, and the chief of the Canyon Indians. The last-mentioned chief was afterwards known as "Charley." A general treaty of amity was agreed to and both parties expressed themselves highly gratified with the result.
    "On the discovery of gold on the Yreka Flat in March of 1851 General Lane and Mr. Steele left Scott River and located at the new diggings. This transferred the impromptu Indian department to that point."
    When Gen. Lane arrived in Yreka the Indians who were congregated on the flat received him in a most friendly manner. These Indians spoke a language in common with the Rogue River and Scotts River tribe and were formerly under the control of one chief.
    This head chief, who was the father of John of Scotts Valley, had accidentally been killed some years previously and John being young, a strife for the supremacy had been carried on for some time between him and "Old Joe" and "Sam" of Rogue River, and "Scar Face" of Shasta.
    When the whites came among them their strife ceased, each assuming supreme control over his own people. At this time the Indians had no stock and knew no use for horses and mules except for food, only as they had seen them used by the whites, as they passed through the country, or when war parties of "strange people" (Modocs) came among them.
    These Indians (the Shastas) were naked during the warm season and lived an indolent life, living on roots and fish, which were abundant and easily obtained. As a consequence of the inattention of the miners to their animals they frequently strayed off a long distance, and when wanted, could not be found by their owners, and had it not been for General Lane much trouble might have resulted.
    While the general commanded the highest respect from the miners he had won the most implicit confidence of the Indians, and at a word from him, "Old Tolo" would send his young men to look up any lost animals desired. This duty, which by common consent was awarded to him, was a heavy draw, both upon his time and his means, but he performed it with a cheerfulness which endeared the name of General Joe Lane to all the miners.
    After General Lane left his home in Oregon the Indians, having so frequently seen Mr. E. Steele in the general's company, "Tyee Joe Lane's codawa," meaning Chief Joe Lane's brother, and would go to him for advice and to relate their troubles. Since then to the present time Mr. Steele has been an important actor in the Indian affairs in this part of the country."
    The Mr. Steele mentioned above is, no doubt, the same Elijah Steele who figured so conspicuously in the Modoc troubles many years afterwards. What is here related deals about as much with Northern California as with Southern Oregon, but as has been suggested by Sutton, the two sections are so intimately interlocked historically that it is difficult to treat of either section without including the other. Our next lengthy extract has to deal with Steele's continued services as Indian pacifier, but brings us back nearer home, which means Table Rock.
    Table Rock has often been the scene of Indian troubles as well as of Indian treaties. Indian treaties, however, have been like pie crusts, primarily to be broken.
    "On the second day of June 1852, Calvin Woodman was killed by Indians on what is now known as Indian Creek. This raised a general alarm among the whites, and a company of volunteers was immediately raised at Johnson's Ranch, at the lower end of Scott Valley. Three days after the murder a collision occurred between the volunteers and the Indians which resulted in killing several horses, wounding S. G. Whipple, acting as sheriff in Siskiyou County. Mr. Steele, learning of the trouble, hurried forward to Johnson's Ranch. That night, June 7, 1852, a large party of citizens from Scott's Bar came over under command of Major Rowe as captain and proceeded to Yreka.
    On the next day, however, most of them returned. On Monday the 10th, Mr. Steele had a talk with the Indians. They informed him that the murder had been committed by an Indian from Rogue River and one from Shasta Valley; that they had no desire for war. They proposed to go with him and deliver up the guilty parties if found in the camp of the Shastas, and if not to follow them as long as he would go with them, whereupon Mr. Steele obtained the services of a small company, consisting of John McNeal, James Bruce (afterwards Major Bruce), James White, Peter Snellback, John Galvin, and a young man remembered as Harry. These men took with them "Old Tolo" and his son and started for the canyon on Shasta River.
Officers Seek Marauders; Factions Unite
    When Mr. Steele and his party arrived at Yreka great excitement was prevailing on account of suspicious movements of the Indians of that vicinity, who had moved with their families into the mountains. Some of the more excitable of the citizens on learning that some Indians had been brought into town called a public meeting for the purpose of taking them away and hanging them. Mr. Steele addressed the meeting and explained his arrangement with the Indians.
    Judge William A. Robertson and Associate Judges Strowbridge and Patterson officially authorized Steele to obtain and deliver up the murderers and agreed to pay the expenses out of the county treasury, supposing they would be found within the county.
    Steele's party was joined by Dr. Joe S. Thompson (late of Jackson County, Oregon), F. W. Merritt and Capt. Ben Wright, the latter being interpreter.
     The Indians having fled to the mountains, two days were spent in hunting them up and getting them together, when it was learned that the two they were in pursuit of had fled to Rogue River to join Tipsu Tyee, inhabiting the Siskiyou Mountains and upper portion of the Rogue River Valley, and the Rogue Rivers, whom they said were in arms and intended to kill all the whites if Dr. Ambrose would not give his little daughter to Sam's son for a wife.
Reds Favored
    Before starting in pursuit for the fugitives "Old Tolo" and his son and "Jim" proposed to substitute two others in their stead--two active young warriors who were better acquainted with the country proffered--to obtain and deliver the murderers or suffer punishment in their stead. [The above was originally printed in the Grants Pass Courier of August 25, 1923, page 4.]
    Steele and Cook returned and consulted with Judge Strowbridge. He advised pursuit and Steele set out to join the party. Upon arriving in camp he learned from the Indians that at the time the fugitives left they were undecided whether it would be best for them to flee to upper Klamath or to Rogue River.
    The Indians offered to raise a band of their own and go to the lake with Ben Wright. After consultation it was agreed to accept their services and for Steele to accept their services and for Steele to take his company to Rogue River country.
    They traveled much in the night through unfrequented routes led by their two young Indian guides, whom they christened "Tom" and "Jack." In crossing the Siskiyou Mountains they met a Rogue River Indian with his bow strung and arrows ready for immediate use and surrounded him before he was aware of their presence. The guides talked to him awhile and learned that the Indians they were after had gone to Sam's band on Rogue River, and this Indian was a runner going over to induce the Shastas and Scott Rivers to join "Sam" and "Topsie" against whites.
Runner Detained
    Orders were given to disarm him, and the Indians were instructed to explain to him the state of affairs and tell him he must go back with them to the agent of Rogue River Valley, Judge Skinner. When they attempted to disarm him he snatched a Colt's six-shooter from Mr. Galvin and commenced firing at the men in quick succession, but fortunately doing no damage.
    He then broke loose and fled up the mountains. He was pursued by the men but it was found he could travel faster than men on horseback. Therefore, Bill was ordered to dismount and follow him on foot and, if he could not overtake and detain him until the rest of the party came up, to shoot him. Bill followed him for about half a mile and seeing he was about to make his escape, shot him.
    After passing the summit of the Siskiyous they fell in with a son of Tipsu who was out reconnoitering and took him prisoner. After descending into Rogue River Valley they were met by Dr. C. Hillman and another gentleman who informed them that large numbers of Old Joe's tribe were gathered in arms on Big Bar, near Table Rock, and that the citizens under Captain Lamerick were also under arms on the opposite side of the river and wished to hasten to render their assistance. Dr. Hillman and companion proceeded to Yreka to procure ammunition, and Steele and party pushed on with all possible speed for the scene of the trouble.
Policy Resented
    About one mile from the bar they met Judge A. A. Skinner, who urged them forward, as he said, "matters looked desperate."  Mr. Steele made known the object of his visit and asked him, in case an arrangement were made with the Indians, that provision be made for the return of the murderers of which they were in pursuit.
    The agent agreed and they arrived at sundown and camped for the night. On the following morning Judge Skinner arrived, and after a short consultation, they sent Tom across the river, who, after a short time, succeeded in inducing Sam, Joe and a number of their warriors to come over and have a talk.
    While over there Tom saw and talked with the fugitives. After these Indians had been with them a short time, others began to come over, all well armed, many having guns and revolvers, until there were nearly 200 mixed with the men. Sam then demanded that the two prisoners captured on the mountain be set at liberty as a preliminary step to the "talk."
    Whereupon Judge Skinner ordered Mr. Steele to restore their guns and pistols and let them go. Steele, knowing full well the bad policy of such a course, and advantage the retention of the prisoners would be to him, refused to comply with the demand, unless the murders be given up in their stead.
Treatment of Red Killers Disputed Among Regulars
    The latter ticklish unpleasantness proceeded as follows: The agent notified Steele that he was in his jurisdiction and peremptorily ordered the release of the prisoners.
    This demand was met with a positive refusal on any terms except those already proposed. The agent then went to the prisoners and told them that he was chief of the whites, and that they must not go, and if they made the least move that he would shoot them down. Skinner threatened to arrest the whole party and send them to Oregon City for trial, unless the Indians were discharged.
    The order was still refused and the two Indians were placed under guard, with instructions to shoot them on the least attempt to escape or rescue.
    Steele then placed his other six men behind trees, separated within supporting distance of each other, so as to prevent the Indians getting in their rear and cutting off their retreat, and then, with his Indian guides, Tom, Jack and Bill, took his place in the council with Joe, Sam and the other Indians.
    Sam then informed the agent that before he would talk the white men must stack their arms some fifty yards back, indicating the place. The agent, who was evidently afraid to refuse anything to the Indians, ordered the whites to do so. Capt. Lamerick, being under his jurisdiction, felt under obligations to comply and ordered his men to obey the order.
    Mr. Steele refused and entered protest against such a hazardous move, unless the Indians, who were as well armed as the whites, should also be required to dispose of their arms in a similar manner. Skinner refused this stipulation and the council commenced, with Steele's men and the Indians retaining their arms.
    Sam, evidently feeling that he was master of the situation, refused to give up the refugees. But he proposed to cross back and have a talk among themselves and return in a short time. On reaching the opposite side, however, he shouted back saying he would not return, and defied the volunteers.
White Ranks Are Handicapped
    Capt. Lamerick immediately ordered his men to resume their arms. He divided them into two detachments, sending one under his lieutenant to a ford about half a mile below, and took the other under his own command about the same distance above, and gave orders in case of any difficulty occurring between Steele's company and the Indians to immediately cross over.
    The agent asked time to go over and make one more effort to effect a compromise, which was agreed to. He went and was gone about half an hour, when the Indians who were this side of the river near Steele's position began quietly crossing back, one at a time, and in a short time there were not over fifty left. Steele placed McLoud and Galvin to guard the river and permit no one to cross until the agent should return and sent Tom over to notify what was transpiring.
    The Judge returned, but still refused to permit Tom to point out the murderers. White Steele was urgently insisting that the agent should use his influence to procure the guilty Indians, the keen eye of Jack observed two Indians going over the hills in the direction of Klamath Lake. They were followed by another who proved to be Scarface. The first two were soon identified as the two they were in pursuit of.
    The Indians on this side immediately began to prepare for battle by endeavoring to hide behind trees. Steele ordered his men to intercept them in this move, as he had the advantage of the timber. At this juncture Martin Angel interceded, and the Indians agreed to surrender up their arms to him and go into a log house and remain prisoners until they should bring back the fugitives.
    Mr. Angel undertook to get them into the house, but as soon as they had passed Steele's men they ran to get shelter behind some big pines hard by, and had they succeeded the little band of whites would have been exposed to fire without any show of shelter.
Volunteers' Volley Kills
    The orders were given to fire on them, which were promptly responded to by the white men, and the fight immediately became general. The Indians soon retreated and the volunteers followed them to the river's edge, killing thirteen of them.
    The usual peace parley ensued and a temporary truce followed.
    In taking temporary leave of Mr. Steele and his Shastas a couple of quotations may be made from Sam Simpson's tribute to Shasta John, whom he designates as the grandest chief the red tribes had in Oregon.
   
   
Galice Massacre Shifts War into Lower Rogue Area
    In December 1852 eight men who were mining at the mouth of Galice Creek were missed from their claims, and suspicions of foul play were entertained. Some weeks afterwards "Taylor," chief of the Galice band of Indians, came to Vannoy's ferry on Rogue River accompanied by a number of his men, for the purpose of trading. They, exhibiting a greater amount of gold dust than it was usual for Indians to have, were supposed to have obtained it by some foul means.
    They were questioned as to the whereabouts of those men. They stated in reply that they were washed off an island, where they were camped, by high water, and all drowned. Their explanation and manner led to a strong belief that these Indians had murdered the lost miners. An investigation led to the discovery that Taylor and his band had murdered the entire party.
Taylor's Band Is Captured
    He and some of his head men were arrested by some of the citizens, and as there were no courts yet organized in that part of the territory, they were brought before a citizens' jury, tried, convicted and sentenced to be hanged. Finding that the decree of the court was about to be executed and seeing no possible chance of escape, they related the particulars of the case themselves and boasted of the part they had taken in the murder and robbery.
    They gave a minute account of the manner in which they tortured their victims after they had taken them captive, stabbing them in numerous places with knives and burning them with firebrands, as they said.
Indians Feign Friendship
    This summary justice dealt out to "Taylor" had the effect to somewhat check for the time being depredations of the Indians north of the Siskiyous and they became more profuse in their professions of friendship to the whites. These professions, however, proved only a blind under which these same Indians matured plans and collected munitions of war for a renewal of hostilities on a larger scale.
    By resorting to this ruse, they were enabled to augment their forces from neighboring tribes, and form alliances unsuspected by the whites.
    In the meantime, being allowed access to the premises of the settlers, they procured more or less guns and pistols by theft and otherwise, and also accumulated a considerable ammunition.
    In those days all the tea brought into the country was put up in lead caddies, which, when emptied were thrown out with the rubbish, and from this source the Indians collected a very abundant supply of lead, and through a few unprincipled dealers, they procured a large amount of powder.
    A few of the more experienced frontiersmen, who had closely watched the movements of the Indians, saw many things in those movements to arouse their distrust. Signal fires were frequently seen in the distant mountains, the numbers in each camp were continually being increased, strange Indians, evidently from other tribes, were frequently seen at camps and occasionally in town and in the settlements, accompanied by some of the head men of the Rogue Rivers. For the most part, however, the people rested under a feeling of security, relying on the good promises of the Indians, who were lavish in their declarations of friendship.
War Threat Mounts on All Sides
    Toward the latter part of the spring of 1853, the Indians began to show a more aggressive disposition. They frequently visited houses in the absences of the men, and demanded food and other articles of the women, and by their threatening manner, succeeded in procuring their demands.
    War dances were frequently heard in their camps at a late hour in the night, and their whole intercourse with the settlers was assuming a haughty attitude, which foreshadowed evil. Many of the leading citizens, however, still placed implicit confidence in a continuation of their friendship.
    In June a band of Indians, probably belonging to the Galice Creek tribe, attacked a miner's cabin in the vicinity of Cow Creek, and two men, an American and a Mexican, were murdered, and all their valuables carried away. These murders, being so remote from the settlements, created but little alarm amongst the majority of settlers who argued that it was no indication of a general hostility, but was a mere robbery and murder for the sake of gain and was to be looked on as having no more bearing on the Indian question than would a like offense committed by white men.
Phoenix Farmer Waylaid
    On the 4th day of August in 1853 a thrill of alarm was occasioned by the murder of Edward Edwards, a farmer, living about two and a half miles below Phoenix, on the east side of Bear Creek. While he was absent a party of Indians secreted themselves in some underbrush near his house, and on his return at noon, they shot and killed him, and after pillaging the house fled to the mountains.
    After this murder there were those yet who claimed that it was only the work of a few desperadoes, intent on spoils, and was not from any general understanding among the Indians. These suppositions, however, were soon dissipated. On the following day Thomas Wills, of the firm of Wills & Kyle, engaged in the merchandising business in Jacksonville, was shot and mortally wounded just as he was entering the town.
    In the meantime, the Indians under Chief Sam were rapidly concentrating in a strong position north of upper Table Rock, and the country had become thoroughly alarmed and several volunteer companies were raised to keep the Indians in check until aid could be procured from Fort Jones, that being the only military post in the country. Messengers were dispatched who arrived at the Fort at noon, on Aug. 8, 1853, two days after the last murder.
    Six hours after the arrival of the messengers, Capt. B. R. Alden, 4th U.S. Infantry, with a detachment of 20 men, all his available force, was on the march to the scene of the difficulty, where he arrived on the 10th.
    The time, up to the arrival of Capt. Alden, was occupied in defensive preparations, the volunteers guarding the outskirts of the settlements, and escorting exposed families to places of greater security. Stockades were constructed in various parts of the valley, where families were taken for safety.
Settlers Unite into Regiment
    On the arrival of Capt. Alden with only 20 men it was found necessary to organize the forces and increase the number of volunteers. Accordingly headquarters were established at a point now known as Camp Stuart, near the present site of Manzanita [Central Point], where all those of the volunteers who could be spared from guarding the settlements were organized into a regiment, and elected Capt. Alden Col. of the volunteers and were formally mustered into the United States service during the war.
    The regiment consisted of six companies of volunteers, commanded respectively by Captains J. Rhodes, J. P. Goodall, J. K. Lamerick, John S. Miller, Robert L. Williams, and the detachment of regulars under Capt. Alden. When the forces were organized, scouts were sent out in every direction for the double purpose of protecting the settlements and observing the movements of the Indians.
    On the 16th of August, the companies of Lamerick, Goodall and Miller were sent out to guard the passes back of the Table Rocks, while Capt. Rhodes and a detachment of Capt. Goodall's company under Lieut. Ely were sent above to scour the country and drive the Indians down where they would fall into the hands of the forces stationed back of the Rocks. Capt. Rhodes went immediately to the point where "Sam's" forces had been encamped a few days before but discovered that they had all gone.
    On the 17th of August, Lieut. Ely's command, consisting of 22 men, proceeded up the river until they struck [Evans] Creek near the mouth, and following this stream up a short distance, halted for dinner. They picketed their horses in a small grassy cove nearby and placed a guard in position to watch them and the camp. The guard, concluding that they could safely leave their post for a short time, joined the rest of the men at dinner.
Six Are Killed from Ambush
    They had not been long in camp before the whole party was fired on from a dense body of willows that skirted the creek, killing six of their men and wounding four. Recovering their guns, they immediately fled to the brow of a hill nearby, where they found a more tenable position, and where they were able to hold the enemy in check. In this position they were soon surrounded by Indians, rendering retreat impossible.
    One of their number managed to pass the lines unobserved, under cover of timber and underbrush, and made his way to headquarters for reinforcements.
    Meanwhile, the Indians on horseback, some of them mounted on horses belonging to the volunteers, kept up a steady fire, charging and retreating alternately for the purpose of reloading. In time, however, assistance came and the Indians fled. The volunteers lost no men.
Raids Occur on Williams Creek
    War with the Indians seems to have been quite general in Aug. 1853 throughout Southern Oregon. Mr. Sutton gives this account of the affair on Williams Creek.
    Prior to the fight on [Evans] Creek by Lieut. Ely, a detachment of 20 men from Capt. John S. Miller's company, under command of Lieut. B. B. Griffin, was dispatched to the Applegate country to protect the settlers and watch the movements of the Indians in that vicinity. This detachment struck main Applegate at the mouth of Little Applegate on the 8th day of August and, proceeding up that stream to the mouth of Sterling Creek, came to an encampment of Indians, who were evidently hostile and prepared for battle. An attack was at once made, and after a sharp engagement they were routed and their camp and equipment destroyed.
    Lieut. Griffin then returned down the creek to Spencer's ranch, three miles below the mouth of Little Applegate, and camped for the night. On the morning of the 9th he took up his line of march down main Applegate to the mouth of Williams Creek and turned his course up that stream and soon discovered an abundance of fresh Indian sign.
     The Indians were moving up the creek and the volunteers followed them, expecting to be attacked.
    When they had arrived at a point about opposite Williamsburg they were fired on by the Indians who were ambushed in the thick underbrush that lined the old Indian trail which they were following. The only damage done the first fire was the wounding of some of their horses. On the second fire, which followed quickly, Frank Garnett was killed, and Lieut. Griffin severely wounded in the right leg.
    This engagement lasted three quarters of an hour. The volunteers, having scarcely a tree to protect them, stood their ground against four or five to one, the enemy being sheltered by the thick timber and almost hid by the heavy undergrowth in which they had chosen their position. At length the Indians began to flank the volunteers and several of the men were left afoot. Their horses having been shot from under them, it was deemed advisable to withdraw.
'53 Treaty
     On the 21st day of August 1853, Gen. Lane arrived in Rogue River Valley, having been commissioned commander of the volunteer forces by acting Governor George L. Curry. He superseded B. R. Alden, 4th U.S. infantry, who had been elected colonel of the volunteers.
      On the 23rd he took formal command and after a consultation with Col. Alden and other officers it was determined to make an aggressive movement on the Indians. Accordingly, the General divided his available forces into two battalions, sending one, under the command of Col. Alden, up the river to where Lieut. Ely met with his defeat for the purpose of striking their trail and overtaking them in the mountains, as it was known that they had gone across in the direction of Evans Creek, thence to proceed up that stream to form a junction with Col. Alden on its upper waters, and to prevent the Indians returning to the settlements from that direction. The General accompanied Col. Alden's command.
Lane, Alden Go After Redskins
    That same day Alden's command left Camp Stuart. Moving up the river to [Evans] Creek and following the direction of that stream, he struck the Indian trail and encamped for the night. The Indians, having fired the mountains in their rear, made the advance of the volunteers on the 23rd very difficult. The fire in many places had obliterated the Indian trail and the smoke made traveling very disagreeable. They crossed the mountains and late in the afternoon of that day struck a branch of Evans Creek. Their horses being very much exhausted, they camped for the night.
    Early on the morning of the 24th, after they had taken up their line of march, a rifle was heard in advance which indicated that the Indians were near. Gen. Lane, who was in advance of his command, rode forward, and soon discovered by his ear the hostile camp in a dense forest, and so thick with underbrush as to entirely hide them from view. Being now considerably in advance of his command, he halted till they came up and then announced his plan of battle.
Reds Surprised
    A detachment of Capt. Rhodes' command, consisting of 10 picked men, under the command of Lieut. Charles Blair, were sent to turn the enemy's left flank. Col. Alden, with the main force, proceeded to attack them in front. So quietly were their movements, and so utterly unexpected by the Indians was the attack, that their well-directed fire was the first intimation the Indians had of their approach. From the peculiar structure of the ground, and the dense underbrush, it was found impracticable to turn the enemy's left, and the flanking party proceeded to engage them on the right.
    The men were now deployed, taking cover behind trees, and the fight became general. Gen. Lane was delayed for a short time for the arrival of the rear guards. On their arrival 15 men were detailed to guard the horses and camp equipage, and the General took command in person of the remainder and pushing forward to join the other men. On arriving at the front he found Col. Alden, who had been shot down early in the fight, dangerously wounded, surrounded by a few of his men.
Gen. Lane Wounded
    After examining the ground and finding that the enemy were securely posted behind trees and logs, and concealed by underbrush, Gen. Lane immediately passed the order to charge them, and led forward in the movement. When he had reached within 3 yards of their lines, he received a severe wound. Believing the shot to have come from the flank, he gave orders to have the line extended so as to prevent the enemy from turning it, and the men were again ordered to cover behind trees. This position they held for three of four hours.
    Notwithstanding the close proximity of the Indians, occupying as they did an almost impregnable position and greatly outnumbering them, the men acted in the most cool and determined manner. Gen. Lane, finding himself growing weak from loss of blood, retired to the rear to have his wound examined and dressed.
    In his absence the Indians called to the volunteers that they were anxious to have a talk, that they wished to fight no longer, that they desired peace, and expressed a desire to see Gen. Lane. On the return of the General a consultation was held, and the matter of a talk discussed. It was evident they far outnumbered the whites, that they were well armed and that they held a position that it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to dislodge them.
    It was therefore determined to leave it to a vote of all the men present whether to listen to them or make another effort to dislodge them. It was evident that the Indians could have but one or two objects in view. They were either sincere in their desire for peace, as they had no immediate cause to fear defeat, or they were seeking to obtain an advantage. On a vote being taken, less than half the men voted in favor of a talk, but as none voted against it, it was decided in the affirmative.
Parley Climax Is Tense
    In accordance with the vote of the men, Gen. Lane, in company with Capt. Goodall and four or five of his men, went to their camp and made a preliminary treaty with the Indians, they agreeing to go on a reservation lying north of Rogue River, subsequently known as the Table Rock Reservation. In this fight John Scarborough was killed and Henry Fisher, Thos. Hays and G. C. Abbott wounded; the latter died of his wounds on the 2nd of September. General Lane and Capt. Alden were also wounded. Alden died of his wounds two years afterwards. [Alden died of unrelated causes seventeen years later.] Shortly after the battle Capt. A. J. Smith, 1st U.S. Dragoons, arrived with his troops from Port Orford.
Reservation Established
    The negotiations for peace were then concluded, and the metes and bounds of the Table Rock Reservation established. Fort Lane was established on the south side of Rogue River, opposite the lower end of lower Table Rock, and Capt. Smith put in command. The settlers could now breathe easy once more. They could retire at night with some assurance that when they arose in the morning they would not be confronted by a band of howling fiends.
    They congratulated themselves that the Indian question, so far as Southern Oregon was concerned, was virtually settled. They had implicit confidence in the power of the troops to keep the Indians in check on the reservation, and that power would be wielded by Capt. Smith for the general protection of the country. How sadly these hopes were blasted the sequel will show. [End of Sutton's account.]
More Light on the Evans Creek Battle
    Ex-Senator J. W. Nesmith wrote an account of Indian troubles on Evans Creek that dovetails so nicely into the account given by Mr. Sutton in a former article that I am tempted to make use of it almost in full. It adds some new features to the story that are truly exciting.
    "During the month of August 1853, the different tribes of Indians inhabiting the Rogue River Valley suddenly assumed a hostile attitude. [August Kautz' account, published November 14, 1853 by the New York Herald, revealed that the sudden "hostile attitude" was the work of one native. Subsequent hostilities were the effect of panic on both sides.] They murdered many settlers and miners and burned nearly all the buildings for over a hundred miles along the main traveled route. Gen. Lane assumed command of a body of militia, suddenly called for the defense of the settlers.
    "Capt. Alden of the regular army and Col. John E. Ross of Jackson County joined Gen. Lane and served under his command. Old Joe, John and Sam were the principal leaders of the Indians, aided by such young and vigorous warriors as George and Limpy.
    "The Indians collected in a large body and retreated northward in the direction of the Umpqua. Gen. Lane made a vigorous pursuit and on the 14th of August 1853 overtook and attacked the foe in a rough, mountainous and heavily timbered region on Evans Creek.
    "In an attempt to charge through the brush Gen. Lane was shot through the arm and Capt. Alden received a wound from which he never fully recovered. Several of the attacking party were wounded, some of whom subsequently died of their injures. Capt. Armstrong was shot through the heart and died instantly.
Reds Ask Terms
    "The Indians and whites were so close together that they could easily converse. The most of them knew Gen. Lane and when they found that he was in command of the troops, they called out 'Joe Lane' and asked him to come into their camp to arrange some terms for a cessation of hostilities.
    "The General, with more courage than discretion, in his wounded condition, ordered a cessation of hostilities and fearlessly walked into the hostile camp, where he saw many wounded Indians, together with many who were dead and being burned to keep them from falling into the hands of the enemy, which clearly demonstrated that the Indians had gotten the worst of the fight.
    "After a long conference it was finally agreed that there should be a cessation of hostilities and that both parties should return to the neighborhood of Table Rock, on the north side of Rogue River, and that an armistice should exist until Gen. Palmer, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for Oregon, could be sent for, and that a treaty should be negotiated with the United States authorities, in which all grievances should be adjusted between the parties. Both whites and Indians marched back slowly over the same trail, encumbered with their wounded, each party keeping a vigilant watch on the other.
Camp at Cliff
    "Gen. Lane encamped on Rogue River, while the Indians selected a strong and almost inaccessible position, high up and just under the perpendicular cliffs of Table Rock, to await the arrival of Superintendent Palmer and Agent Culver. Gen. Lane and Capt. Alden at the commencement of the outbreak had sent an express to Gov. Geo. L. Curry, then secretary and acting governor. Major Rains, with headquarters at Fort Vancouver, was called upon to supply the threatened settlers with arms and ammunition. Major Rains responded to the call but was deficient in troops to escort them to their destination at the seat of war.
    "Gov. Curry at once authorized the writer to raise 75 men and escort the arms to the threatened settlements. The escort was soon raised in the town of Salem and marched to Albany, where it waited a couple of days for the arrival of Lieut. Kautz, in charge of the wagons with rifles and cartridges, together with a 12-pound howitzer and a good supply of fixed ammunition. Kautz was then fresh from West Point, and this was his first campaign. He subsequently achieved the rank of Major General and rendered good service during the late 'unpleasantness with the South.'
     "After a toilsome march, dragging the howitzer and other materials of war through the Umpqua Canyon and up and down the mountain trails made slippery by recent rains, we arrived at Gen. Lane's encampment on Rogue River near the subsequent site of Fort Lane on the 8th day of September.
General Lane's Forces Grow
    "On the same day Capt. A. J. Smith, since the distinguished General Smith of the Union army, arrived at headquarters with Company C, First Dragoons. The accession of Capt. Smith's company and my own gave Gen. Lane a force sufficient to cope with the enemy, then supposed to be about 700 strong. The encampment of the Indians was still on the side of the mountains of which Table Rock forms the summit, and at night we could plainly see their campfire, while they could look directly down upon us.
    "The whole command was anxious and willing to fight, but Gen. Lane had pledged the Indians that an effort should be made to treat for peace. Superintendent Palmer and Agent Culver were on the ground. The armistice had not yet expired and the 10th was fixed for the time of the council.
Talks Set for Enemy Camp
    "On the morning of that day Gen. Lane sent for me and desired me to go with him to the council ground inside the Indian encampment to act as interpreter, as I was master of the Chinook jargon. I asked the General upon what terms and where were we to meet the Indians.
    "He replied that the agreement was that the meeting should take place within the encampment of the enemy and that we should be accompanied by 10 other men of his own selection, unarmed.
     "Against these terms I protested and told the Gen. that I had traversed that country five years before and fought those same Indians, that they were notoriously treacherous and in early times had earned the name of 'Rogues' by never permitting a white man to escape with his scalp when once within the power, that I knew them better than he did, and that it was criminal folly for 11 unarmed white men to place themselves voluntarily within the power of 700 well-armed hostile Indians, in their own encampment.
    "I reminded him that I was a soldier in command of a company of cavalry and was ready to obey his order to lead my men into action or to discharge any soldierly duty, no part of which was to go into the enemy's camp as an unarmed interpreter.
    "The General listened to my protest and replied that he had fixed upon the terms of meeting the Indians and should keep his word, and if I was afraid to go, I could remain behind. When he put it upon that ground I responded that I thought that I was as little acquainted with fear as he was and that I would accompany him to what I believed to be our slaughter.
    "Early in the morning of the 10th of September we mounted our horses and rode out in the direction of the Indian encampment. We dismounted and scrambled up for half a mile over huge rocks and through bushes, and then found ourselves in the Indian stronghold, just under the perpendicular cliff of Table Rock and surrounded by 700 fierce and well-armed hostile savages, in all their gorgeous war paint and feathers.
     "Capt. Smith had drawn out his company of dragoons and left them in line on the plain below. It was late in the afternoon when the treaty was completed and signed.
    "In the meantime an incident occurred which came near terminating the treaty as well as the representation of one of the high contracting parties in a sudden and tragic manner. About the middle of the afternoon a young Indian came running into camp stark naked with the perspiration streaming from every pore. He made a brief harangue and threw himself upon the ground apparently exhausted. His speech had made a great tumult among the tribe.
    "Gen. Lane told me to inquire of the Indian interpreter the cause of the commotion. The Indian responded that a company of white men down on Applegate Creek, and under the command of Capt. Owen, had that morning captured an Indian, known as Jim Taylor, and had tied him up to a tree and shot him to death. The hubbub and confusion among the Indians at once became intense, and murder glared from each savage visage.
    "The Indian interpreter told me that the Indians were threatening to tie us up to the trees and serve us as Owen's men had served Jim Taylor. I saw some Indians gathering up lass-ropes, while others drew the skin covers from their guns and the wiping sticks from their muzzles. There appeared a strong probability of our party being subjected to a sudden volley.
    "I explained as briefly as I could what the interpreter had communicated to me in order to keep our people from huddling together and thus make a better target for the savages. I used a few English words, not likely to be understood by the Indian interpreter, such as disperse and segregate.
    "In fact we kept so close to the savages and separated from each other that any general firing must have been nearly as fatal to the Indians as to the whites.
    "While I admit that I thought my time had come and hurriedly thought of wife and children, I noticed nothing but coolness among my companions. Gen. Lane sat upon a log with his arm bandaged in a sling, the lines about his mouth rigidly compressing his lips, while his eyes flashed fire. He asked brief questions and gave me sententious answers to what little the Indians said to us.
    "Capt. A. J. Smith, who was prematurely gray-headed and was afflicted with a nervous snapping of the eyes, leaned upon his cavalry saber and looked anxiously down upon his well-formed line of dragoons in the valley below. His eyes snapped more vigorously than usual, and muttered words escaped from under the old dragoon's white mustache that did not sound like prayers. His squadron looked beautiful, but, alas, they could render us no service.
    "I sat down on a log close to old Chief Joe and having a sharp scalping knife under my hunting shift kept one hand near its handle, determined that there would be one Indian made 'good' about the time the firing commenced.
    "In a few moments Gen. Lane stood up and commenced to speak slowly but very distinctly. He said 'Owen, who has violated the armistice and killed Jim Taylor, is a bad man. He is not one of my soldiers. When I catch him he shall be punished. I promised, in good faith, to come into your camp with 10 other men unarmed to secure peace.'
    "'Myself and men are placed in your power. I do not believe that you are such cowardly dogs as to take advantage of our unarmed condition. I know you have the power to murder us and can do so as quickly as you please, but what good will our blood do you?  Our murder will exasperate our friends and your tribe will be hunted.'
    "The excitement gradually subsided after Lane promised to give a fair compensation for the defunct Jim Taylor in shirts and blankets. I drew a long breath and remarked to the old General that the next time he wanted to go unarmed into a hostile camp, he must hunt up someone besides myself to act as interpreter.
    "With a benignant smile he responded, 'God bless you, luck is better than science.' I never hear the fate of Gen. Canby, at the Modoc camp, referred to that I do not think of our narrow escape of a similar fate at Table Rock."--J. W. Nesmith, Rickreal, April 20, 1879
    One of the names intimately connected with the early history of Oregon is that of W. G. T'Vault. He was editor of the first Oregon newspaper, printed at Oregon City and known as the Spectator. Afterwards he started the Table Rock Sentinel at Jacksonville. Besides his editorial functions, he was well known as a lawyer and an eccentric character in general. It was my privilege to become well acquainted with him, as he at one time wanted me to enter his law office and study law. He claimed that he could fit me up in six months so that I could be admitted.
    It was, perhaps, one of the numerous mistakes of my life that I did not take him up, for they had easy and expeditious facilities in those days for turning out lawyers.
    He gave me an incident in his own experience at the bar that is perhaps worth inserting. He said he was engaged defending a Chinaman who was charged by the District Attorney with stealing a sack of flour. But the District Attorney had spelled it "flower." He said he at first thought of demurring to the indictment on account of the erroneous orthography, but, said he, "after studying the matter over a little I come to the conclusion that if f-l-o-w-e-r didn't spell flour what in the h--- does it spell?"
    As an editor he was well versed in the old "Oregon Style" when it was at its best, or rather its worst, when personal abuse was the predominant weapon of offense and defense.
    A single sample may do to illustrate it. Mr. Turner, who was editing the opposition paper, had ventured the opinion that if certain Democratic editors had lived in the time of our Savior, our Savior would have been regarded as a perjured traitor and Judas Iscariot as the curly-headed little boy.
    T'Vault came back at him with: "If dirty work Turner had lived in the time of our Savior, there would have been no Judas Iscariot, for the former would have betrayed his master for just silver enough to buy one nip."
    The jokesmiths found in T'Vault a good subject for the exercise of their alleged wit. One of their best efforts, whether it was faulty in accuracy or not, helps to illustrate the character of the man. They said he and some of his companions were having a convivial time of it near a hamlet known at that time as Dardanelles. This was long before the Volstead Act and the 18th amendment were thought of. In the course of the spree T'Vault was beset with the idea that he must personate an Indian chief and it was suggested that he should have a crown.
    As there was an iron kettle handy, his brow was soon decorated with that symbol of authority. In stepping around too lively, however, the symbol slipped down over his face and nearly smothered the life out of him. His companions had a very sobering time of it rescuing the chief from his sad predicament. They did rescue him, however, and he lived many years afterwards till the scourge of smallpox at Jacksonville put him in the vault we all have to enter, sooner or later. [The victim of this story is also remembered as John Ross.]
    T'Vault was elected to the first legislature, after Oregon was admitted as a state and became tyee of the lower house, being elected speaker of that body. That he had trouble with the Indians, the newspaper records of that period will attest.
    When mines were first struck in Southern Oregon it was thought that Port Orford would become the port of entry. Many people commenced gathering there on that account. A writer for the Oregonian gives the following account of T'Vault's trouble.
    "An editorial of Aug. 26, 1851 sums up Port Orford as having for proprietors Capt. Tichenor, T. B. King, James Gamble, F. M. Smith, Isaac M. Hubbard and Col. T'Vault. Port Orford matters were bad, according to the various accounts of the T'Vault catastrophe, one being by that individual himself, from which I gather that immediately after arriving from Portland on August 14, with a company of 18 men started to explore a route up the coast and river country.
    Then they bore northeast a few days and on August 31, nine of the party started to return. The other nine kept up Rogue River until September 7. They laid up to cure elk eat, as their provisions were running short.
Editor Caught on Wrong River
    One of their party was Cy Hedden, who had been with Kirkpatrick's party in June. He recognized that they were on the Coquille where the Indians had been hostile at that time and warned T'Vault to be on his guard. They believed they were on the Umpqua and going down to Scottsburg and were much put out when they found their mistake.
    On the 14th of Sept. they passed near some Indian village, intending to land, when naked Indians in large numbers rushed into the water, grappled with them, and climbed into their canoes. They tried to rush for the shore. As he tried to draw a revolver, T'Vault was knocked down and found himself floating down the river.
    On the shore he saw a fierce struggle, heard shouts and screams of agony and groans of the dying. He saw a canoe close by and an Indian lad in it. The boy helped him in and helped Brush in, whose head had been pounded with an Indian paddle, then pointed to the south side, put a paddle in his hand and jumped overboard. They reached the south side, stripped off their clothing and crawled up the bank. They traveled south in their naked condition, following the beach at night and in and through the woods by day.
    At Cape Blanco friendly Indians took care of them and carried them to Port Orford next day. Mr. Brush had several inches of scalp cut off. It is not plain why they left their clothes, unless to deceive the savages, but they could not hide their trail from them. There is some incoherency in this statement, but that of others confirms the T'Vault story. A letter from Gardner, Umpqua River says that Cyrus Hedden and L. L. Williams reached that place after eight days' journey in the wilderness. Another one escaped with them, but they lost sight of him afterwards. Hedden was unhurt, but Williams was thought to be mortally wounded, as two arrows entered him and he was fearfully bruised. They had lived all the time on wild berries and sea mussels.
    In 1853 T'Vault had further Indian troubles on his hands, as the following extract will show: "On August 14 a detachment of five men, consisting of W. G. T'Vault, David Birdseye, S. W. Wall, Wm. R. Rose and John R. Harden were attacked by Indians about one mile south of Willow Springs, in which Rose was killed, and Harden received a wound from which he died August 18th."
    Before finishing up the war of 1853 it is well to let that veteran miner and Indian fighter, Alex Watts, tell his experience--a task he was well qualified to perform. As his story deals chiefly with Illinois Valley and Josephine County it has a local bearing and interest.
    "During the Indian war in Rogue River Valley in the year 1853, the Indians of Illinois Valley were, to all appearances, friendly and peaceable until Capt. Williams raised a company and went to the assistance of the people of Rogue River. The news of the departure of this company was quickly spread among the Indians, and the mask of peace was soon torn off and the hideous war-painted visage of the savage revealed.
    "About the 12th of September the Indians made a night attack upon the miners of Deer Creek Bar on Illinois River.
    "The men were sleeping on the ground in the open air, and circumstances seemed to favor the designs of the murderous savages. They were preparing for a general massacre, each choosing his victim with the intention of sending a bullet through his brain at a prearranged signal, when the impending tragedy was averted by the warning of a humble but faithful friend of the imperiled men.
    "Joe Lord's dog awakened his master with a low growl and Lord, taking in the situation in an instant, raised his gun and fired just as the Indians, who found they were discovered, fired a volley at the sleeping men. The Indians immediately retreated, firing as they went, but the miners were not long finding means of shelter from bullets.
    "Pursuit was out of the question, for in the whole camp with 11 men there was but one rifle--so great was the sense of security. It was found that the only injuries were received by a Mr. Hulbert, who was wounded in the hand and ankle by a bullet that evidently had been fired within a few feet of his head.
    "In the excitement that followed, the other men down the river were forgotten until daylight when Truesdale and Dave Picket volunteered to go down and give his alarm to John Makin and Alex Watts, who were prospecting on the river about six miles below.
    "Upon learning of their danger, Makin and Watts cached their tools and their provisions and the four returned at once to Deer Creek Bar. They found the camp deserted, the men having gone to Derby's ranch, near the present site of Kerby.
    "Here it was learned that two men, named Rouse and Tedford, were still further down the river prospecting and a party of six immediately started down the river to give them warning. When they had reached the old camp of Picket and Watts all refused to go further, except these two men.
    "Picket had no gun and tried to get one from one of the partners of the imperiled men, who was in the party, but the gun was refused and Picket, of course, would not go without it. This terminated the project as Watts would not go alone into a country with which he was unacquainted and where there were no trails to guide him, and the party returned to the ranch the same night.
    "The next day, about noon, Mr. Hart arrived at the ranch from down the river where he had been mining in company with Bill Brown and a man named Hopkins, unknown to those who lived above on the same stream. Hart brought the intelligence that Rouse and Telford had been attacked that morning. Rouse was cut in the face with an ax and Telford's left arm was broken by a bullet.
    "They had been prospecting at the place where Smith's copper works now are and had an Indian with then. This Indian, the evening before, had gone to the Indian ranch, not far distant. Returning just before daybreak he proceeded to play his part in the bloody drama that had been planned by the savages.
    "He found the two asleep and seizing an ax struck Rouse in the face and then snatched a rifle and shot Telford when he ran off without waiting to determine whether he had accomplished his intended double murder.
    "The wounded men were able to make their way up the river about four miles to the camp of Hart & co. and Mr. Hart had started out alone, and unarmed, to bring the news to Derby's ranch and obtain assistance, if possible, while Brown and Hopkins waited all day in the bushes with their rifles cocked, expecting the Indians every moment, but resolved to defend the wounded men and die with them if necessary.
    "When the men at the ranch had heard Hart's story, they at once formed a party to go to the relief of the wounded men. The party was composed of Mr. Allen, Mike Bour, John Miter, Dave Picket, Malachi Boughman and Alex Watts--as many as could obtain weapons (the rifles having all been taken to Rogue River). They reached the camp where the wounded men and their guard were anxiously looking for them. Here they passed the remainder of the night, camping on the sand without blankets or fire.
    "When daylight appeared, in a hasty examination of the condition of the wounded men it was found that Telford would have to be carried by hand, while Rouse was able to ride a mule which had fortunately been provided. In a very short time a litter was prepared and the march back to the ranch was begun. Allen took charge of the mule on which Rouse was placed and the rest took turns carrying Telford, as the trail was so narrow that only two could take hold at once.
    "There was no shirking, all vying with each other as to who should do the most and the whole party were nearly exhausted before they had reached the ranch. While they had yet about two miles to go, they were met by Capt. O. T. Root, who had traveled 40 miles that day, but upon reaching the ranch and learning the news, he at once set out to give what assistance he could to the unfortunate men.
    "Never was help more welcome. The whole party were so tired as to be scarcely able to walk without a load, and we were almost ready to stop in despair. But the Captain took hold with a will and besides doing the work of at least three such tired as we were, inspired the whole party with renewed endurance by his cheerful example and generous aid. The ranch was reached about dark, and the wounded men were given the best care and attention that could be rendered.
    "Mr. Rouse, who was cut with the axe, recovered in a short time, but Telford, after having his arm amputated, lived only about a week, when the dark-winged angel relieved him from his sufferings."
Armed Men Return from Rogue River
    Watts' story of Indian depredations for 1853 continues as follows:
    [Here we pick up the Sutton account again.]
    For a few days after the events recorded last week nothing was done toward combatting the savages, as the arms were few and the Indians kept themselves out of the way, remaining in concealment down the Illinois River.
    In about two weeks our men returned from Rogue River and at once reoccupied their old camps, hoping that the Indians would not molest them. They supposed that the Indians were only persuaded to make their recent break because of the absence of the greater portion of the men and the unprotected and indefensible condition of those remaining and now having returned in full force, they felt assured that the Indians would not attack them. But they were soon taught that it is not wise to calculate upon anything but danger, deviltry and trouble in deciding upon questions in which the Indian character is one of the factors effecting the result.
    On the second night after the men had returned, the Indians attacked the camp, and after firing into one of the cabins made off with five muleloads of provisions belonging to the Hunter brothers and 15 to 20 mules and horses. When the Hunter boys' cabin was fired into, William Murphy, known as "Dirty Bill," was sleeping on the ground. Two bullets struck the log just above his head, but he lay perfectly still. Of course the firing produced considerable excitement and someone said, "Get up, Bill, the Indians are shooting at you."  Bill turned over with the cool remark "Oh, d--n the Indians, there ain't but two of them."
    But in spite of his stoicism he loaded his musket with 15 buckshot and went with the party of 17 men who started out immediately upon the track of the Indians under command of John Makin. After we had started we were joined by Samuel Mooney and eight others, of whom I can remember the names of only two, Dr. Osborn and John Nichols, now of Crescent City.
    The Indians tried to throw us off their track by scattering, doubling and going over the worst mountains they could, and we found much difficulty in tracking them, but about 6 o'clock on the morning of the third day, as we reached the top of a prominent hill, we saw their camp on the Illinois River, at Oak Flat, above the mouth of Briggs Creek.
    Instantly our party was fired with that eagerness for the fray which welcomes a command to charge on the double quick. It was a race to see who could reach the camp first. Notwithstanding our recklessness, the Indians did not seem to be aware of our approach, as they were sitting around in the genuine Siwash style, until the bullets were among them. Three were killed outright, and how many were wounded, we never knew.
    The attack was a success, but there were other camps that we had not seen, one much larger going under the bank on the same side of the stream that we were. The camp that we fired into was on the opposite side and instead of being the assailants we were soon compelled to assume the defensive, finding ourselves attacked by the main body of the hostile Indians, who soon came to the defense of their brethren.
    By accident rather than design, Giles Hunter, Joe Dickinson and Alex Watts happened to be about 200 yards down the river from the main party, and unknown to the Indians, who were met with a volley from these three at about 30 paces and were so astonished that they turned and fled without firing a gun. The fight then degenerated into a game of ball at long range, which was kept up for some hours, until Watts received a slight wound in the leg, when it was deemed best to retreat and secure more forces.
    Three days after this the regulars, under the pilotage of two pet Indians, surprised the camp. They killed a number, ran the rest off and captured all the spare ammunition of the Indians and a few horses, with no loss to themselves. But on their return the Indians followed them, and, about four miles from the battle ground, killed two brave soldiers, one of whom was the orderly sergeant.
    Two days after the soldiers' fight our boys, about 35 strong, again started for another attack on the camp. But, with the exception of one good shot, and that obtained after a half-mile foot race, they had no opportunity to use their rifles, seeing none of the foe. An incident, however, will show that the enemy saw them.
    The boys had made camp and all had their horses staked out who had come on, except Bill Hunter, who had a stiff knee. Bill laid his gun down, took his mule and started out, when Mike Bushey called to him: "Better take your gun, Bill."
Bullets Had Scant Powder
    "Guess I am old enough to take care of myself" was the answer and Bill went out beyond all the other animals and was in the act of driving his picket when he heard a click and looking up he saw four or five muzzles pointed at him. Quick as thought he sprang to take leave of the too-familiar visitors.
    Pop! Pop! Pop! went the guns, and the bullets were well aimed. One cut his coat collar and singed his cheek, one struck just below the shoulder blade, and two where it interfered with his sitting down easily. But Bill came into camp faster than a scared mule, singing out at the top of his voice, "Siwashes! Siwashes! Shooting tin wads at me."
    On examination of Bill's wounds they were found to be not serious, as none of the balls striking him had powder enough behind them to send them more than an inch into the flesh.
    Our boys returned to their respective camps without any further adventures and soon after this, through the mediation of Mike Bushey and an Indian named Henry who is said to have been always friendly, a treaty was made which, with the exception of one or two breaks, lasted till the war of '55.
Reds Ignore Treaty Terms
    The treaty stipulated that the Indians were to stay down the river or the miners would not be responsible for any attacks that might be made upon them by white men. We told them that so far as we were concerned the peace would not be broken if they were careful to comply with the conditions of the treaty, but we could not control the feelings or actions of our neighbors in the valley or at Althouse and Sailor Diggings and would not vouch for their being or continuing friendly.
    They remained down the river but a short time, however, notwithstanding our impressive wawa ["talk"], and it was soon discovered that they had moved up to Deer Creek and settled, apparently permanently, at the lower end of the valley, at the Fiester place. The news of their arrival spread, of course, all over the settlement, and again a feeling of uneasiness and dread of impending trouble took possession of the whites. All were watchful and anxious, and the few miners on the river kept themselves in readiness for any emergency. The Indians molested no one, however, and no disturbance occurred until a party of whites made an attack on the Indian camp.
Whites' Revenge Is Ill-Timed
    The winter of 53-54 was very cold. One heavy snow storm lasted about 10 days. During this time Mr. Rouse, who was suffering from his own injuries, and craving revenge for the death of his partner, collected a party of 20 at Sailor Diggings, and without giving any warning to the whites down the river, started out to surprise and slaughter the Indians at the ranch. Their expedition was well planned, and they had no doubt of its success.
    They expected to entirely "clean out" the camp and put an end to all trouble from this band of Indians, but their project, like many other military schemes, was not so nobly executed as calculated upon. They lost their way and traveled all night in the snow, at one time floundering about in a swamp where two of the men became very wet and were almost frozen. They came upon the camp in the morning, but too late to make the attack a success, and after a short fight they were compelled to give up the attack and retire with two men wounded.
    The conclusion of Mr. Watts' story runs as follows: Thus the peace was again broken and the effect of this attack upon the Indians was a condition of vigilant defense upon both sides. On the day after the attack, Mike Bushey and Alex Watts went to the Indians, accompanied by a friendly Indian named Jim, and patched up a truce.
    The truce--a sort of armed neutrality, with both parties suspiciously watching each other--continued without any events of moment to break its monotony until the spring of 1855, when a party of Illinois Indians went over to Happy Camp and robbed a party of white men, then killed a man on Indian Creek, thence came to Hay's ranch and stole some cattle and carried off their booty in the Slate Creek hills.
Indians Pursued on Deer Creek
    At daylight on the morning of the next day a party of nine men under command of Capt. Sam Frye started out from Hay's to follow the Indians.
    By rapid traveling the party came up to the Indians about 10 o'clock a.m. and surprised and shot their rear guard of three men. One of the three was killed outright and the other two were fatally wounded, as was learned subsequently. The sacrifice of their rear guard saved the main party of the Indians. As soon as our shots were fired they chose their ground and fired a volley on us at short range but did no injury. They then took shelter in a thicket, and as it would have been equal to insanity to attempt to follow, we returned to Hay's ranch for more help.
    From Hay's Capt. Frye and a few others started the same evening for Kerby to get more men for the next day's attack. Having succeeded in obtaining several more men the Capt. was returning to Hay's with a party of seven men in all, Capt. Sam Frye, John Frye, James Hornbuckle, Jack Guess and Alex Watts. Just as we were entering the Deer Creek bottom the stillness of the forest was broken by a succession of rifle shots directly ahead of us.
Night Pursuit
    We halted on the impulse of the moment, and before we had time to form in our own minds any idea of what the firing could mean James Mills appeared, coming towards us from a thicket in the direction in which the firing had been heard. He had received two wounds in his side from which the blood was running, and as he came up to us he told us that the Indians had attacked his camp and his partner, a Mr. Philpot, had been killed.
    Capt. Frye immediately ordered Jack Guess to go with the wounded man back to Kerby and then told the rest of us that our duty was to recover the dead body and then go to the rescue of another Mr. Philpot and his little boy, a little fellow of about four years who lived on the opposite side of the brush about a quarter of a mile from where we then were.
    The trail through the thick underbrush was very narrow and it seemed like inviting death from the bullets of some hidden foe to venture upon the trail, but we thought of the man and boy in danger and not one faltered. Stopping but an instant to see that our rifles were all ready for use, we raised a yell and then followed the Captain as he dashed into the thicket saying, "Come on boys, we'll save the boy."
Tot Escapes Red Scalping
    Just as we started we heard three gun shots at the creek where James Mills and his partner had been ahead. Perhaps our faces blanched and our breath came harder, but we kept on at full speed expecting to be fired on at every jump, until we came to a halt.
    There lying upon the bank of the stream was the body of Mr. Philpot, with the brains oozing from three bullet holes in his head, and eight other wounds in the body and limbs. We took but a glance at the shocking sight, then rushed through the brush to the house, where we found Mr. Philpot with his boy behind him on his horse just starting away. We called him back, yoked his oxen to a wagon, loaded his household effects upon it, then went down to the creek, and brought up the body of his brother and moved all up the creek a short distance to a fort or blockade built by Mr. Yarnall. Leaving Mr. Philpot and his boy here in tolerable security, we returned to Hay's ranch, reaching there about 10 o'clock in the morning.
Soldiers Are Encountered
    Resting but two hours at Hay's, we started with a party of 21 in pursuit of the band of Indians who had given us the slip the day before. We found them at the head of Round Prairie Creek and they immediately began to retreat, going down the creek and up Applegate to Cheyenne Creek. We followed them until nearly dark and then camped where Mrs. Stevens lived. After it was dark enough several of us started out to look for camp fires, hoping to discover the Indians in that way.
    Our search was soon rewarded by the sight of a blazing fire, not far from our camp, and creeping slowly toward it we found, instead of Indians, a party of soldiers under command of Lieut. Sweitzer, who had come up from Fort Lane. The Lieutenant told us he was very glad to see us, as he had but 12 men and two Indian scouts or guides. He told us that the Indians had killed Jerome Dyar and Dan McCue on Applegate, and that as he was out of rations he would not be able to follow the Indians and would have to return to the fort the next day but would let us have his guides to help us in our pursuit of the hostiles, who, he said, had started toward Klamath.
Soldiers Deal Out Justice
    We returned to our camp well pleased with the polite Lieut. And the next morning early went over to the camping ground of the regulars to take our guides and start after the Indians, when, behold, the Lieut., soldiers and guides had all disappeared.
    We were considerably astonished, of course, but their trail being plain, Capt. Frye, taking four men, who were best mounted, set out to learn the cause of the "skedaddle."  By hard riding, he overtook the detachment near Rock Point, and found that the Indians had surrendered to them and the Lieutenant was marching to the fort as prisoners nine bucks and seven squaws, the bucks carrying their arms and ammunition.
    Upon being asked by Capt. Frye the meaning of his strange actions, the redoubtable officer merely replied that the Indians were his prisoners; they had killed three white men and we had killed three Indians. It was an even thing, and we could go home satisfied. I do not say we were satisfied, but we thought it best to go home, as there were nine buck Indians and 12 soldiers and one U.S. lieutenant of dragoons against five of us.
    As we draw on towards the bloody regime of 1855-6 I will continue to borrow scraps from other writers. They mostly agree as to the main particulars but differ slightly as to minor events. For instance, they do not agree as to what became of Mr. Wagner, sometimes written Wagoner. They don't agree as to whether Mrs. Harris was rescued from a patch of willows or from a treetop. They agree, however, that she put up a most notable fight. A writer for the Sunday Oregonian once gave details as follows:
Massacres of '55 Climax of Horror; Many Are Killed
    "The Indians have broken loose and are killing everybody!" shouted a mud-bespattered and excited horseman as he dashed into the busy town of Jacksonville in Southern Oregon, on the 9th of October 1855. [Henry Klippel identifies the horseman as George Anderson, arriving in Jacksonville at midnight of the 9th.]
    Dismounting from his foam-flecked steed, he repeated to the crowd which had gathered about him: "The red devils broke out of the reservation last night and killed every man along the river. Yes, and the women and children, too. They have burned all the houses and run off the cattle, and God knows what they haven't done. I just came from Jewett's ferry.
    "I was asleep in the old log house at Jewett's ferry, and several others were there. Just before day, or maybe 3 or 4 o'clock, 'whish' went a bullet through the shingles. Then there was a fearful howl and a lot more guns were fired. We got down on the floor at first, but when lights were brought we found we were all right and we began to fire back. We saw through the dark a dozen Indians firing at the house. In about half an hour they left and we waited till daybreak and looked out and saw one man dead on the ground near the house.
    "Then we looked around, keeping an eye out for Indians until about 10 o'clock. Robbins came tearing from Evans' and says: 'The whole country is murdered. Jones and his wife are shot; Wagner and his family are killed and the Indians have beat Haines' brains out.' I want you fellows to go back with me just as soon as you can and look and see who are left alive."
Vigilant Defense Is Organized by Settlers, Miners
    As these disjointed words were repeated about the town, great excitement ensued. Jacksonville was full of people, mainly refugees from the surrounding mining camps and farming settlements, for the whole country was, and had been for many days, in anticipation of trouble with the Indians, although of less serious nature than that which now cast a chill over the stoutest hearts.
    A large number of the inhabitants of Jackson and Josephine counties were forted up, that is, had collected in strong buildings, bulletproof and large enough to contain several families. A large number of men were required to defend these detached posts, and even in Jacksonville itself some apprehension of danger to the town was felt, although the number of men there capable of bearing arms was several hundred.
    Very quickly, however, a volunteer force of about 20 active and fearless men were in the saddle and set off at a swift gallop for the north side of the Rogue River, where the atrocities had been committed. While they ride to succor the helpless victims of savagery, let us examine the route which they followed and the region toward which they directed their headlong steps.
Massacres Were Near Grants Pass
    Parallel to the railway and not far to the eastward lay the old California trail, where were enacted the scenes which are about to be describe. Along the Rogue, from the point where Grants Pass now stands, up as far as upper Table Rock, every mentionable locality bears its tale of Indian occupancy and Indian cruelty. In the sands of the Rogue River gold was found worth a king's ransom. The crest of yonder symmetrical hill--Gold Hill, it is fittingly called--bears a vein of quartz, the story of whose wealth rivals the wondrous tales of Aladdin and his lamp.
    At Ft. Lane, which was then garrisoned by a few companies of regular troops under Capt. Smith, the volunteer relief party was reinforced by 55 mounted dragoons, under command of Major Fitzgerald. Guided by John F. Miller, the combined party swept onward and never drew rein until Evans' ferry was reached, where they were told of the death of Isaac Shelton, a Willamette Valley man, who, while on his way to Yreka, was shot by the Indians near the ferry while preparing his breakfast. He received four wounds, poor fellow, and lingered 20 hours.
    From there the raging savages, traveling rapidly away from the reservation, had proceeded along the road, butchering whomever they met and burning every house they came to, as they passed through the thinly settled region. Two men driving a wagon loaded with apples were next met with, whom they pursued and killed.
Jones Home Was First Attacked
    The next victim found was a man named Jones, one of the few settlers along the road. He had been shot near his house and his body was partially eaten by hogs before it was found. His wife, fleeing towards the brush when the attack began, was shot at by an Indian and her spinal column fractured by the bullet. Falling to the ground, the poor creature had dragged herself to cover but was searched for and found by the bloody miscreants, one of whom presented his revolver and in spite of her prayer shot her again, the second bullet passing through her arm. She fell senseless, and the Indians, doubtless imagining her dead, hastily left. She recovered her senses late in the day and being found was taken to Tuft's place near the river and died, for she lived a day only. O. P. Robbins, Jones' partner, happened to be away from home at the time, hunting the cows. He saw the house on fire and heard the yelling of the Indians and surmised the trouble, then went to Tufts place for assistance.
    Trooping in disorder along the road, the savages next attacked two men who were transporting provisions to the mines. Killing them both, they took the horses from the wagon and turned them loose in the woods, where the relief party found them. The harness they piled upon the wagon and set the whole on fire, and it was consumed.
    Coming next to J. B. Wagner's place, they found only Mrs. Wagner with her little girl, Mary, at home, several persons having left but a very short time previous. This house they set on fire and barbarously murdered the lady and dragged her child away, a captive, to their bestial abodes.
    The relief party found the body of Mrs. Wagner, charred, and almost unrecognizable, amid the ruins of the house. The little girl was taken by the Indians to the Meadows, on lower Rogue River, according to their accounts, but died some weeks later. According to tradition, Mrs. Wagner was compelled to remain in her dwelling while it burned and was last seen by the savages standing before her glass arranging her hair.
    As Fitzgerald's force came in sight of the scene of the Wagner tragedy some half-dozen men who were in advance caught a view of the burned domicile, with the corpse of the unfortunate woman, and simultaneously became aware of a number of Indians partly concealed in the brush. Seeing the smallness of the force opposed to them, and not being aware of the regulars' proximity, the insolent murderers shouted a challenge to the whites to come and fight them. At the next instant the military burst into view and, giving the astonished redskins no chance to hide, charged them with the utmost vigor and kept them on the jump for two miles, killing six.
    Then the party returned to the road and proceeded northward to Haines' house, where lay the corpses of the owner and his little son, the latter's brains dashed out and the body perforated with bullets. Haines, lying sick in bed, attended by his wife and two children, had been surprised by the savages, who shot him and his son, and taking the wife and the daughter with them passed on to Harris' house, the next settlement north.
    As the relief party approached Harris' house, no signs of human occupancy were visible, and an air of desolation lay upon the scene. The outbuildings had been burned, and wreaths of smoke rose slowly from their ruins. Dismounting, some of the party passed within the house. The spectacle that met their eyes was a terrible one. In the room lay the body of the ill-fated owner pierced by a bullet. The signs of determined attack and resistance were visible in the bullet-marked doors and walls. Whatever the termination of the contest could not be ascertained, and as the party felt that it would be a waste of time to remain, the order was given to mount and push on.
Mrs. Harris Found Safe
    As the cavalcade passed a willow thicket not far from the now abandoned homestead a cry was heard and a woman, begrimed and disheveled, rushed out, leading a wounded girl by the hand, and implored the aid of the troops. It was Mrs. Harris, who, having with the courage of a lioness, defended her hearth and her family from the attacks of a large party of murderous Indians, had after their withdrawal taken refuge in the willow copes, and there awaited the arrival of succor. When the troops gathered about her house she had watched with anxious eyes, too far off to distinguish whether they were whites sent to relieve her or red men bent to complete their horrible work. Her story is one of the most extraordinary in the whole range of frontier narrative and forms the leading episode of the terrible massacre which is now being recounted.
Woman's Defense of Home Saga of Western Courage
    In the Harris domicile resided five persons--Mr. and Mrs. Harris, their two children, Mary, a girl of 12, and David, somewhat younger. The fifth was Frank A. Reed. When the first alarm of Indians was given the latter attempted to escape to the woods but was pursued and killed. His skeleton was found a year afterward.
    The boy, David, who was at some distance from the house, was last seen running across the field. Subsequent trace of him was never found, but it is supposed that he was murdered, and his body concealed.
    Mr. Harris was a few rods from the house when the redskins appeared, and in attempting to retreat to his shelter, was fired at and mortally wounded as he stood upon the threshold of his own door. His wife drew him into the house and closed and barred the door, and obedient to her husband's advice brought the firearms--a rifle, double-barreled shotgun and revolver--and, loading them, began to return the fire of the miscreants, who remained close to the house. Her husband was dying in agony the while, and of the two children, one, the boy, was she knew not where, but supposed with reason that he had already met the cruel fate that impended over them all.
    The child, Mary, had been painfully wounded in the arm, and the terrified sufferer climbed the ladder which led to the attic and there remained for several hours, the mute witness of the terrible conflict.
    While the Indians remained in the vicinity they kept beyond the reach of danger from her fire, but repeatedly attempted to cast burning brands upon the roof over her head, intending thereby to cremate all those the house contained.
    In an hour, more or less, the husband and father breathed his last, and his bloody corpse with its wide-staring eyes and the expression of agony into which its features were molded added tenfold to the terrific nature of the surroundings which confronted the poor and despairing woman.
    Through this scene of horror she kept up such an effective resistance as she was able, discharging her firearms in such directions and at such intervals as seemed to intimidate the savages, but probably not succeeding in any case in hitting any of them.
Knew No Guns
    Unfortunately this poor woman, who was suffering so much from the cruelty of her assailants, was not able to revenge herself effectually upon them, for never having fired a gun before, and gaining her knowledge even of how to load one by the instructions of her wounded husband, all she could do was to load and fire, hoping that the show of resistance might, as it did, keep her foes at a distance.
    She steadily loaded her weapons and discharged them through crevices of the logs of which the house was built, and the Indians, though numerous, dared not attack the building. They burned the outbuilding, however, first removing the horses from the stable.
    In the afternoon they decamped, leaving the dauntless woman mistress of the field and the savior of her own and her daughter's life. As soon as she was assured of their departure, she called her daughter down from the loft and with her took refuge in the willow copes and remained there until the arrival of the relief party, as before said. By them she was removed to a place of safety.
Escape by Minutes
    It happened that on the morning of the 9th, Judge Deady, who was returning from holding court at Jacksonville, in company with Dr. J. W. Drew, setting out early on their northward journey, took breakfast at the Wagner house, a few hours before the arrival of the murderous savages. Miss Pellet, well known in Oregon at the time as a temperance lecturer, was also at Wagner's awaiting a conveyance which was to take her on her way to Crescent City. Judge Deady and his fellow traveler left first, and soon after the lecturer set out for Vannoy's ferry, escorted by Mr. Wagner.
    Very soon after their departure the house was attacked, and Mrs. Wagner, who with her daughter were the sole tenants, fell easy victims to savage brutality. The three travelers escaped narrowly indeed, for so close had been the call that Messrs. Deady and Drew, looking back from the summit of a hill near Grave Creek, saw the smoke of burning buildings, but did not know the cause until overtaken by the news of the dire catastrophe.
    Wagner, the bereaved father and husband, returning from Vannoy's, when he approached his home found it on fire and encircled by howling savages. By them he was not observed, and feeling his inability to cope with them, unarmed as he was, he rushed in the utmost haste toward Evans' ferry, to obtain help to rescue his beloved ones. Reaching the Jones place he saw the owner's dead body, and in the road below lay the murdered travelers. Returning as soon as he could obtain even one man to accompany him, he flew rather than ran to his home only to find his wife's body smoldering in the ruins and his child gone, he knew not whither.
Mail Carrier First
    The mail carrier that morning got as far as Wagner's, where he was joined by two men. A little way beyond, on the way to Evans' ferry, they met a band of 10 or 15 Indians, armed and stripped for war. Getting past these they met a second band, a few hundred yards or so beyond, when the two bands began howling and firing at them, they being in the middle. The whites had to take to the woods and, making a detour, got back to Wagner's only to find the house in flames and Indians surrounding it, yelling and dancing.
    Taking again to the woods, they traveled northward for some time, passing near Harris', where five or six shots were heard and flames were seen arising. Regaining the road where they adjudged it safe they kept on toward the north, giving the alarm and causing the settlers and travelers on that part of the road to seek safety at the Grave Creek House, where no disturbances had occurred. No murders were perpetrated on that day by the Indians on the remaining portion of the road, but all the inhabitants left their homes as far north as Canyon, and the vacant tenements were mostly burned.
    Only two or three buildings were left between Evans ferry and Turner's station, near the northern boundary of Josephine County. At Turner's a number of men stood guard, while all those who could be spared joined Richardson and Sheffield, and effectually patrolled the dangerous space on the road.
    The savages came no further north, but plunged into the rough mountains to the west, and secluded themselves from the whites and for a time delayed the vengeance which was destined to fall upon them eventually. Their hiding place was well chosen. It is a country of craggy mountains, of precipices and steep gorges, of impenetrable jungles and baffling thickets. It contains as many mountains as can find room to stand. [The above account is condensed from the Oregonian of December 20, 1885. Click here for the original, with explanatory links. Fidler's account here returns to Sutton's.]
    As soon as we got the news at Galice Creek of the massacre at Evans ferry, and the murder of the Wagner family, and that of the Jones and Haines, we began to keep our eyes open, expecting that the Indians would come down upon us in a body some night and clean out from end to end.
    The miners held a meeting and agreed to lay their claims over--that is, they passed a law that if anyone owning a claim on the creek or within the limits of Galice Creek mining district should choose to leave the diggings and volunteer, or for other reasons, it should not be lawful for anyone to enter upon said claim during the absence of the proper owner.
    Thereupon the miners stacked up their sluice boxes and, taking their other effects on their backs or on the backs of horses or mules, they scattered in all directions, some for parts unknown.
    Some went up the river and joined various volunteer companies, while others, myself among them, stayed on the creek and organized a company with the determination of holding our ground and taking care of our property, which we had bought together at the mouth of the creek.
    There were only about 40 of us, but we knew that we could defend ourselves against as many Indians as could be brought against us, as the volunteer companies above would keep most of the Indians busy up there. We elected Billy Lewis captain, and your humble servant was elected 1st lieutenant. As soon as we got our company in working order we began looking about for a suitable place for a blockhouse.
    We picked upon a large log house on a wide bar on the river, and soon repaired it and made some additions which we thought might be necessary in case of an attack, although we did not indulge much apprehension of such an event.
    But we had several women and children with us and they looked to us for protection, so we thought it best to have everything safe. We moved all our traps and supplies into our headquarters and soon had everything snug and in order, ready at any time for an attack.
Skirmishes Increase
    In a few days after we had got everything ready, we received news that everybody was forted up in the settlement above us, and that the Indians were getting the best of some of the regular troops in the skirmishes they were having; that it was believed that the Indians had divided their warriors; that George and Limpy had gone down Rogue River and would probably pay us a visit in a short time, and by reason of their successful raid upon the settlements around Evans' Ferry they would pitch into us with great expectations of cleaning us out.
    But we had no fears on that score, for we were well armed and on the lookout for them, while the settlers above had been taken by surprise and each family was alone without means of defense.
    [The manufactured exculpatory account of the Lupton Massacre below is completely unsupported by contemporary accounts.] Sometime prior to the 6th day of October 1855, the Indians had all left the Table Rock reserve. The military authorities at Fort Lane were applied to for assistance to induce them to return, but the efforts of the officers proved fruitless, and they returned to the Fort, leaving the Indians in the field in a hostile attitude.
    On the following day, the 7th, Agent Ambrose, accompanied by Major Lupton, went to the Indians' camp and again endeavored to induce them to abandon their hostile intentions, and return to the reservation. The Indians told them plainly that they would not, that they intended to kill the settlers; that they were determined to go to war and that there was no use in talking anymore.
     It was then apparent to all but the military commandant at Fort Lane that force must be used to protect settlers of Rogue River Valley from being massacred. Major Lupton took the result of Agent Ambrose's interview with the Indians to the volunteers who were encamped on Butte Creek
Butte Creek Fight
    It was decided to delay no longer, so the company was put in motion and in the evening of the same day, the 7th, arrangements were perfected for an attack on the Indians' camp the next morning before daylight.
    As soon as it was sufficiently dark to hide their movements, the volunteers surrounded the Indian camp, far enough away to prevent being observed by them. The necessary instructions were given, a guard stationed at proper places and all then lay down to await daylight and the order to move to the attack. As soon as the first faint glimmer of daylight began to make its appearance in the east, the men were aroused, and the order was given to close up around the camp. When they had approached to within a hundred yards of the camp, Indians' dogs gave the alarm, and they came rushing out of their camp.
    The volunteers, with a shout, charged into the very midst of them, and the fight was truly a hand-to-hand fight in the dark, for it was scarcely light enough to distinguish friend from foe. It did not last long but it was hot while it did last. The Indians scattered and the volunteers were victorious.
    Major Lupton and Mr. Sheppard were killed, and seven others more or less severely wounded. Several Indian bodies were found, and many more were seen by the volunteers to be carried off to the camp. [More than thirty natives were murdered. All other accounts, contemporary and since, are unanimous that the massacre was unprovoked and that the victims were almost all old men, women and children.]
Battle Tales of Olney, Moore, Rich in Drama
    Getting back to the original theme of Indian battles I still have the assistance of Mr. Olney, who introduces an assistant narrator, whom he calls "Bill," presumably Bill Moore. [Compare with Sutton's 1878-79 version of the Olney account.]
    Bill tells of some battles we have hitherto skipped, such as the fight on Butte Creek, and the fight at Galice.
    First quoting Olney, Bill says:  "No news of the Indians had been received since the battle of Eight Dollar Mountain, and as Gen. Lamerick had issued a general order rendezvousing the Southern Battalion 2nd Reg. O.M.V. at the mouth of Applegate, on the 10th of April, which was not far off, the companies, one by one, left the general camp and marched to the designated rendezvous. During their stay in the camp the news of the massacre of the settlers at the Cascades was received with particulars--how the settlers were driven into a blockhouse and were compelled to be on the fight day and night, until relieved by volunteers and regular troops."
    Bill listened attentively to the recital; and when he had heard it all he said in his quiet tone, "That's pretty tough, but nothing like the attack on Galice Creek last fall."
    "Tell us about it, Bill--come on--you're a good hand at spinning yarns."
    "There's no yarn about it," he retorted. "It's as true as anything you ever heard."
    "Why don't you write it out and send it to Harper's Magazine--it would be a splendid yarn--I mean story?" suggested one in his audience.
    "Write it out!  If you'll set up a mark I'll bet my old Hawkins that I can beat any man in camp shooting at it or an Indian either--but when you talk about writing anything out, you needn't count me in!" 
    "Give me a chaw of tobacco, somebody," said he, as he sat down on the block of wood which had been procured for his seat. Taking a large quid, he began:
Galice Preparations
    "You know, boys, that Galice Creek is about 40 miles below here, and empties into Rogue River from the south side. The diggin's on the creek have been worked for a number of years and have paid about as well as any other diggin's in the country.
    "In the summer of 1855 the miners on the creek became aware that there was something up amongst the Indians, and all signs showed plainly that we were going to have trouble. We knew that the Indians were slyly on the war path higher up the river, and had killed, in the month of June alone, four or five men in the Illinois Valley, but did not expect they would come down here.
    "There were so many miners on the creek, and all well armed, that we thought the Indians would be afraid to tackle us. Reports came at short intervals that the Indians had killed a person here and there on the upper part of the river, and in the Illinois Valley.
    "But the Chiefs, Limpy, John, Sam, George and the others were, to all appearances, friendly and told the regular officers in command of U.S. troops that there were only a few bad Indians; that they and the great majority were friendly and that there was no real danger to be apprehended; that the few murders that had been committed were to be laid to the charge of a few very bad Indians that the chief could not control, and that they, the chiefs, had been doing and would continue to do all in their power to apprehend and bring them to trial.
    "Things went on this way until the 9th of October 1855, when the Indians threw off the mask and fell upon the most exposed parts of the settlements and began in indiscriminate massacre of the inhabitants. [The breakout of October 9 was precipitated by the Lupton Massacre.]
Galice Siege Was Trial for Whites
    "At an early hour in the evening," says Olney, "a large crowd of the boys were gathered around the Lieut. Colonel's camp fire, eager for Bill to begin his story about the siege of Galice Creek. Bill presently made his appearance and took his seat at the fire and made ready to begin his story by placing his lame foot in a comfortable position and getting a new quid of tobacco between his molars. Looking around in rather a puzzled manner, he said, "I don't exactly know where I left off."
    "It was where you had got everything into a blockhouse and yourselves ready for an attack."
    "Well, as I was saying, we had no fears of being cleaned out even if we should be attacked, which we all doubted. We did not have much provisions, and for meat we had to depend on our rifles. So one day it came my turn to go out after game. I don't mean to say I went alone, but that I was one of six who were detailed for that duty. We went out in three squads, two men together. One party went up the river, one down and another back in the hills and up the creek.
    "It was my fortune to go up the creek, so my pard and I set out before daybreak, and by the time it was light we were five miles from the house. We had killed two deer and were sitting down by a small fire which we had kindled and broiling each a piece of steak, for we were hungry and camp was too far off for us to go to it before satisfying our hunger.
    "I say, Bill," said my pard, "don't you believe Old Limpy is around in these hills watching for a chance to pounce upon our blockhouse?"  "Very likely," I answered. "I had begun to think that somebody has been hunting in these hills since we were up here two weeks ago. The game is scarce today and everything seems to wear a strange look; the squirrels don't seem lively at all. I've had a strange feeling all day. I believe that we'll have trouble before long."
Warning Shots
    "Hark! A rifle report! Two! Three! Then all was still, the report came from up in the hills up the river from our blockhouse; we knew that but two of our boys went up there in the morning, and they could fire but two shots in such rapid succession. It could not be them. The very stillness seemed to prognosticate a coming fray.
    "We gathered up our game--each one slinging a deer over his shoulder--and started for the blockhouse. My pard, who was ahead about ten steps, said to me, 'Bill, you must keep your ears open from behind and I'll do the same from the front--horse fashion. You know when horses are traveling, those in the rear keep their ears turned back, while those in front keep theirs well forward, so that they can better catch sounds in either direction.' 'All right,' said I, 'go ahead, but I don't believe we will see any Indians today. If they are meditating an attack on us they will make it at daylight some morning for--'Down Bill! Down! Do you see that?'
    "And throwing himself down behind a cluster of brush he pointed down the hill directly in our front to a dozen or more mounted Indians and about 50 on foot who were rapidly crossing our track and heading toward the river. All of them were armed and, from their rapid movements, seemed to be intent on accomplishing some already arranged plan. Fortunately we were so far away they did not discover us.
    "Remaining in our hiding place after the last one had passed out of sight at least 15 minutes, we again set out for the blockhouse with no fear of running across the Indians, as they in all probability intended to go below us and leave their horses and traps, and come upon us early some morning.
    "Arriving at the house with our game, we found that the two who had gone up the river had returned without any game. When they started out in the morning they went up the river about four miles and then turned to the right into the hills. Seeing no game worthy of shot, they slowly wandered up and along the ridge and through the open and level grassy benches until about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, when they sat down by a small spring that burst from the side of the hill, intending to remain there until towards night, when they would return to the house.
    "They had been by the spring about two hours, engaged in talking over Indian matters--for that was the all-engrossing topic--and venturing guesses whether they would see any sign, when they became aware that they were to have an accession to their company. In the open woods they saw two persons coming in an oblique direction towards them.
Enemy Nears
    "They could not make out to which party they belonged, for the Indians in almost all cases were clothed in the white man's costume, but to be on the safe side they quickly sank back into some brush that was growing below the spring, and from which they could see the newcomers slowly moving towards them.
    "It was not long before the boys distinctly saw that they were Indians who had, perhaps, been sent out to secure meat for a larger number, for it was very evident they could be but temporarily alone. The boys had not succeeded in finding any deer, but they now began to congratulate themselves that they had found game of another kind.
    "Each man had chosen his mark and had prepared to shoot as soon as the Indians had come out of a small ravine which they were crossing. As the Indians began to show themselves above the bank our two men were startled almost out of their wits at the sudden apparition of a large band of Indians, mounted and on foot, advancing directly towards the spring which they had just left.
    "No time was to be lost now; things had taken a very sudden and disagreeable turn. Down the little gulch they plunged headlong through the brush at a galloping pace. The Indians saw them, but only for a moment still, long enough to send three shots after them. But the boys were good on the run and jump, and in less than half a minute they were far down in the dark, deep canyon, putting into Rogue River, following down which they soon made their way to the river and down that to the blockhouse.
     "About an hour after dark the other men came in with two deer. A third one they left to be brought in on the following day, but we never got it, for the next morning just at daybreak the Indians came upon us with a tremendous rush, thinking to take us by surprise. But we had worked all night getting all things in readiness for them, and of course were not much surprised at the attack.
Fort Defense
    "Every man in our fort, except the guards, had worked all night throwing up breastworks in a square in front of the house. At each of the outer corners we had erected a bastion, and our limited military knowledge assured us that we could defend ourselves against all the Indians that might come against us.
    "Just before daybreak Capt. Lewis had sent me with a squad of men to inspect the entrenchments from the outside and if there should be anything more needed to tell those in the trench inside how and where to perform the needed work.
    "I had been around several times and had at last finished all necessary work and was standing at one of the bastions with my men all in a huddle when the Indians, who had come up under cover of the darkness, poured a broadside into us and into the fort.
    "'Get inside boys!'  I yelled, to make myself heard above the din, but it was not necessary to tell the biggest fool in the squad to get inside; they would have climbed inside like a band of sheep jumping over a fence, even if I had told them to stand their ground. The Indians had taken possession of the bar above and below our fort--every tree had one or more behind it, while some were down behind large boulders which covered the bar in some places sufficiently to give good hiding places for large numbers.
    "Across the river opposite us the timber and brush were thick, affording better shelter for them, while back of us, and within 30 feet of the house, ran a ridge as high as the roof of the house, covered with trees. All of the shelter mentioned was occupied by Indians at the time of the attack, except the ridge close to the house. On that ridge we had always kept a guard, and the savages were smart enough not to try to occupy that place at first.
    "It was not quite light enough when the attack began to distinguish objects with any certainty, and as our ammunition was scarce we withheld our fire till we could see to hit an Indian every time. As we did not return the first fire they began to believe we would make no fight and that they would have a splendid time taking off our scalps and eating our bread and sugar. Acting in this belief, they came flocking along the ridge from both directions expecting to find us in no condition to resist an attack from that place. By this time it was light enough and Capt. Lewis told us to begin our part of the performance.
Needed No Urging
    "'Now boys give those fellows a full dose,' said the Capt., pointing to the Indians coming along the ridge. And we did, I assure you. It was not a long nor a hard job to clear the ridge. The other boys in the trenches had been, for a few minutes, firing stray shots at the Indians, whenever they could catch sight of them in the semi-darkness. In a few minutes the light was sufficient for all purposes and the fun began in good earnest.
    "The Indians were thought to be several hundred strong as they fired from far and near and over each other's heads. We could return yell for yell, we had enough of that commodity, but our ammunition must be carefully used. Every shot on our part told on the enemy.
    "Our breastworks enclosed a square of perhaps 40 feet, and all along the side and from out the house we poured a determined and destructive fire upon our assailants,, but they would not yield an inch. Contrary to their usual custom, they left their dead lying where they fell, and advanced slowly but steadily upon us.
Limpy, John in Command at Siege
    "Old Limpy bucked around from place to place, encouraging his men to advance closer by setting the example himself. Old John was there too, running from point to point yelling out his orders, equal to any civilized colonel or major. No cessation, the Indians crowded upon our defenses, all hands hoarse with yelling, the bullets zipping through our house and knocking the dirt from our breastworks into our eyes. Two men were killed, seven more wounded, two mortally, the others severely, yet it was early in the day.
    "Our defenses were not so strong as we thought, or the Indians never evidenced such dogged determination. The Indians across the river sent bullets in showers over our breastworks and it soon began to get too hot for us, exposed as we were to a fire we could not return, as the Indians were hidden in the brush on the hillside, and we were compelled to shoot at random in that quarter. But we did good execution among the Indians on the bar.
    "Thus things were until noon. We suffered by the fusillade from across the river, while we paid it back upon the Indians around our works. They climbed into the tops of trees on the bar and sent many a damaging shot from their perch among the branches, but one by one they were picked out and dropped to the ground by our boys until that kind of elevated warfare entirely ceased, and no shots came over and into our trenches except from across the river.
    "About 9 o'clock the Indians ceased firing and, as far as we knew, left for another field of operations. Not sure of anything except our deplorable condition, we concluded to occupy the night in strengthening our position, which we could only do by digging rifle pits inside our breastworks. Mustering all our able-bodied men, we divided into two parties. One was set to work digging the pits, while the other guarded the house and cared for the wounded, who by this time were enduring great suffering.
    "Relieving each other every two hours, the work proceeded very rapidly and by an hour before daylight we had four splendid pits dug and covered with a foot or more of earth, from which we could command the ridge back of the house and the country across the river and be, ourselves, completely out of sight.
    "'But how could you get to your pits from the house without exposing yourselves to the Indian's fire,' asked some one of the listeners.
    "Easy enough. Our first step was to run a ditch from the house four feet deep to the first pit, and similar ditches connected this with the others. The ditches were covered, as were the pits, with anything in the shape of boards, or anything else we could find suitable for the purpose, and over them we put the dirt dug from the ditches. So, you see, we had a covered way from the inside of the house to our pits outside, so there was not the slightest danger from the enemy.
    "'Why didn't you do this before the Indians attacked you?' 'Go on, Bill, don't mind him,' said someone.
    "I don't mind an interruption when it gives me a chance to explain. In the first place, I'll say that I've always observed that there are numerous strategists who do their work best while sitting before snug warm fires, criticizing the operations of those leading in the field, who have to contend against all the rapidly shifting circumstances of a campaign of battle.
    "In our case we were all young, inexperienced, knew nothing about the art of fortification, and very little of battle in the open field. But a short time from the States, and having been occupied most of the time in mining, critics must be lenient when overhauling our acts.
    "In a few days we are to start down to the Big Meadows, and there attack the Indians in their stronghold, and we will, if at all observing, gain a clearer idea of Indian warfare.
    "But to begin again. We had our works in a better condition than ever for defense, but the walls of our breastworks prevented our seeing the enemy on the bar above or below us, should they again renew the attack.
    "Daylight came, but no Indians. The boys who occupied the rifle pits were eager to have a few shots from their snug quarters, but if the savages did not return they would be happily disappointed.
    "We had laid our dead, with due care and respect, on the ground in the corner of the house. The wounded were placed on bunks along the sides. Our morning meal was spread upon a long table in the center, and running lengthwise of the building. The boys had been called from the pits, and there, in the presence of the dead, in hearing of the groans and labored breathing of the mortally wounded, sat down, with drooping spirits, to a meal of bread and coffee.
Men Breakfast As Reds Near
    "There was no one keeping watch; we could not be taken by surprise. We could be under cover all the time and did not care a fig if we did not see them begin the attack again, if indeed they intended to do so. The boys had about half finished their meal when our ears, which by that time were accustomed to it, were again saluted by the rising and falling yells of returning savages, and the pattering of bullets against the house.
    "'Come boys, no time to eat now,' said the Captain, 'out to the pits and give them h--l.' The most of them jumped to their feet, dived down into the ditch and went on the run, rifles in hand, and began another day's fighting.
    "One of the boys who was sitting at the table, a specimen Yankee, whom the boys had christened 'Nutmeg' and who had gained our respect and confidence by his coolness and bravery, and was one of the strong props of our little company, drawled out, as the Captain gave the order to man the pits, 'I d-on-n't s-e-e, Cap'n, as there is any use in h-u-r-rying matters,' at the same time raising his cup of coffee to his lips, but as he was on the point of taking the meditated drink, a bullet came snapping through the house and knocked the cup from his hand and sent it flying in fragments about the room.
    "'Wall,' he coolly ejaculated, and without another word rose from the table and with gun in hand stepped into the ditch, and was soon at work in the pits, dealing out his bullets to the enemy.
New Pits Thwart Reds at 'Fort'
    "The Indians rushed up to the breastworks but found none of us in sight. Instead, they found the boys shooting at them from under the ground, a defense that was new and unapproachable. They tried their old dodge of firing from across the river and some few climbed into the treetops, but they shortly saw that the only impression they could make on us was by firing at the house.
    "In an hour they had abandoned all their positions except the ridge back of the house and from there they sent a hotter fire than ever before, which lasted about half an hour. The damage to them was greater than it was to us. In fact we received no damage at all, while on their side we killed several and wounded a number more.
    "About 10 o'clock it became evident that they were weakening and intended to abandon the attack, and I assure you we felt as proud as one can imagine when we found that we were to be the victors. Outnumbering us more than seven to one, and with as good defensives as we had, and as good arms, we thought we had not done so bad after all.
Indians Lift Siege on Fort
    "By 11 o'clock the firing had become desultory on both sides and continued so until nearly 1 o'clock, when all was still. The Indians had withdrawn and the siege of Galice Creek had ended. But we were left in a crippled condition. No news from the upper settlements, not knowing if we would be able to get there without another attack, and we hesitated as to the course to pursue. Vannoy's ferry being the nearest point, we decided at last to go there.
    "We buried our dead inside of our trenches, carefully dressed the wounds of those who needed it and then began making stretchers upon which to convey such wounded as could not travel alone. We had but one horse and we packed him with our camp equipage and the little flour and coffee we had left.
    "An hour or so after dark we had all in readiness and set out upon our hazardous journey. After taking up our wounded there were but 12 men left for duty, that is, to guard the front and rear. If the Indians had attacked us, hampered as we were by the wounded, I don't believe that many of us would have been alive today.
    "We traveled about eight miles that night. We were so worn out, and the wounded were suffering so much, that we concluded to camp and get a little rest that night and be in better condition for traveling the next day. We had some bread baked, and well and wounded alike partook sparingly of it.
    "It would not do to build a fire to make coffee, so we ate the cold, tough bread and washed it down with cold water. Guards were posted and in a little while nothing could be heard but an occasional hoot of an owl, the incessant rippling of the water in the little brook on which we were encamped, and now and then a suppressed groan of some one of our seriously wounded boys.
    "We were all greatly fatigued, and the well ones and those who were not seriously hurt were soon sound asleep. Those whose wounds were serious passed a long and sleepless night, except one, he poor fellow, passed away silently, giving no notice of his dissolution.
    "He was observed in the morning lying as he had been placed in the evening. With open eyes he lay there as though alive, with his gaze fixed upon the winking stars above. The boys buried him as best they could, and we took up our slow and painful march, leaving him alone in his shallow grave near the bank of Rogue River.
    "We were compelled to stop often to rest the wounded and pour cold water on the wounds to allay the constantly rising fever. I won't speak of my own sufferings, but there are some of you here who may have recollected seeing me on my hands and knees crawling along the uneven trail, which I was often compelled to do, as my left foot might as well have been at the bottom of the river for all the good it did me in getting along.
    "At noon we stopped to make a pot of coffee, for we had none since we left Galice Creek. The coffee was boiling on the fire, and its rich odor was floating to our willing olfactories, when all were thrown into a state of consternation by the sight of a large band of Indians or volunteers slowly filing down the trail directly ahead and about a mile distant.
     "That they were coming to our camp there was not much doubt, and of our inability to defend ourselves successfully if they were Indians there was none. The only alternative instantly suggested itself. It was for a major part of our little band to go forward and engage them, while those who remained should carry off and secrete the wounded while the Indians were kept back.
Meeting a Joyful One
    "Without tasting the coffee, the boys seized their guns and started forward on the run, leaving six to carry off and hide the wounded. Our view of the newcomers had been only for an instant, and then they had descended into a bushy canyon. Our boys were soon out of sight, and we were all in a stir and bustle to get ourselves out of the way in time. I clung to old 'Hawkins,' and when it came to the worst I knew I was good for one or half a dozen of the infernal savages.
    "We had got most of the wounded up the creek inside of a dense thicket of brush, around which was almost a corral of old logs blown down during some bygone storm. I was just on the point of starting to the 'cache,' as the boys afterward called it, when we were startled by an uproarious and long-continued shouting, followed by renewed shouts. No firing. They could not be Indians. Of course they were friends.
    "We waited a few minutes and one of our boys came running back with the glad news, yelling at the top of his voice, 'Volunteers! Volunteers!' We were safe now, and for myself I can say that I actually felt a weakness in my knees and all over my body. We were soon joined by our boys who were accompanied by 50 volunteers from the upper settlements who had started down to assist the people of Galice Creek.
    "They had not heard of the attack on us but came down the river they were certain, and knowing that ours was the only company down there, they thought it best to come down and look into matters. Our wounded were brought out from their hiding places, their wounds were dressed afresh, and partaking of the universal hilarity they were greatly improved in health. The next evening we arrived at Vannoy's, where the wounded were well cared for, and boys, my story is done."
Massacre on Coast
    "I met Agent Wright," says Hillman, "in Crescent City about the first of February 1856, and had a long confidential conversation with him in relation to Indian affairs, and the most feasible and speedy way of bringing the difficulty to a close. He detailed at length his views of the situation and gave his method of keeping, as he thought, a close watch on the Indians and their movements in his department.
    "But it has proven to be the old story--he placed too much trust in his friend, [the] Indian. Instead of having an eye on the real intentions of the savages, he was gulled by the friendly savage, who told the Indians all that Wright himself intended to do. Thus the Indians kept a strict watch over him, while he knew nothing whatever of the real doings of his savage charges.
    "Wright returned to Rogue River about the 18th of February, and went on with his plans of surrounding, with the aid of the volunteers and regulars, the Indians and bringing them all down to the mouth of the river and keeping them prisoners there until the close of the war.
    "Wright's confidant kept the Indians well posted in regard to the proposed movement, while he as candidly told Wright a fictitious story of the good intentions of the Indians.
    "Another of Wright's confidants was a Canadian Indian called Enos, who spoke good English and knew all the phases of American and Indian life. This Indian lived mostly with Wright but spent a portion of his time with the Indians. Having a wife belonging to the Tututni tribe which lived at the mouth of the river and within a mile of Wright's house and office, he could thus be at both places daily and in undisturbed intercourse with both parties.
    "He was a smooth-tongued and smiling Indian, to all appearances an innocent and kind individual, but really deep, crafty and dangerous. He had obtained a partial control of the Indians in the immediate neighborhood and was looked to by them as a chief and guide when the proper time came for an outbreak.
Few Whites
    "There were but two or three white families at or near the mouth of the river, while there were many miners living in rude cabins from the mouth several miles up the river and on the beach, both above and below the mouth. The Indians would lie around these cabins in the daytime, doing little jobs for the miners, and in some cases even working for wages in the mines; while the few families employed them in cutting wood and other light work, paying them in old clothes and food.
    "The Indians were vigilant and had an eye to all that was said and done by the whites. Their wits were quickened by the reports they received by runners from up the river. The Indians in Rogue River Valley, and indeed, all the then hostile tribes, were sending messages to those on the coast, urging them to begin hostilities, to aid in clearing the country of the hated white man.
    "But the coast Indians were shy of their inland neighbors. They had learned in times past their treacherous character, and were backward in entering into league with them for any purpose.
    "Enos, who had lived in Rogue River Valley and at Yreka, bent his energies toward forming a coalition between the coast and upcountry tribes. His success was soon perceptible in the actions of the Indians around the mouth of the river. They became bold, in some instances quite saucy, and Enos himself, all placidity and affability, soon changed in a great measure his demeanor. Once calm and smiling, he now became nervous and sour.
Coast Indians Pretend Fear
    "Still, Ben Wright supposed that he knew the secret thoughts of the Indians, that whichever way they would turn he had a remedy to apply. He questioned his confidants as to the perceptible change in the Indians, and their answer was, 'They are afraid the Indians up the river will come down and kill us. We like you and the other white men but are afraid Old Limpy and John will come and burn our houses and take away our women and children as they used to do.'
    "Such were the evasions used to pacify and quiet the inquiries of Wright. The miners had confidence in him, and if he was satisfied, they were satisfied too.
    "It was the 20th of February, and Wright was anxiously looking for a company of volunteers from Crescent City with the aid of which he expected to accomplish his long-mediated coup d'état. The Indians, too, were looking for them and knew for what purpose they were coming, but they had determined on a counter coup de main.
    "The 22nd would soon be on hand, and the settlers and miners were busy in preparing for a grand dance in honor of the day. Enos knew that was the time, if ever, to strike the blow. Anxiously he watched the trail along the beach leading from Crescent City to the mouth of the river.
    "He knew that if the expected company should arrive before the 22nd he would be compelled to wait or strike the blow with a great many chances against him, and if he should fail, he must leave for other parts, as both the whites and Indians would kill him wherever found. He had assured the Indians that success was certain under his leadership, and if he failed to lead them to victory they might kill him if they chose to do so.
Enos Crafty
    "The 20th passed. The 21st wore slowly along, both whites and Indians scanning the trail along the beach for the expected volunteers. The day drew to a close. The Indians were jubilant. Wright was anxious, but had he known the true situation he would have been in a far more discouraged mood, and more watchful.
    "He did not dream that his cherished plans were known to the Indians. He did not know that he was totally in the dark regarding the true intentions of his savage wards. He had been on this coast since 1848 and had lived amongst and warred with nearly all the tribes of note from the Dalles of the Columbia, in Oregon to Shasta City in California and had always been successful.
    "But he had a more crafty and deep opponent in the despised Enos than he had yet met on all his warpaths, a chieftain equaling him in resources and excelling him in duplicity. While his knowledge of the whites and their manner of fighting was equal to Wright's, his intimate knowledge of his Indian allies and their intentions was superior.
    "The 22nd dawned, but still no volunteers had arrived. Preparations went on for the ball in the evening, and the Indians were also preparing their program. Evening came, but no company of volunteers. The Indians were around as usual, doing errands for anyone who asked, but it was noticed that they seemed immensely pleased about something. To inquiries as to their gleeful mood, the answer was 'Wake icta cultis nica he he.' ["Nothing bad me, heehee."]
    "Three miles above the mouth of the river is a large open flat. On this flat was a large log house, in which the ball was to be given. At dusk all the people of the neighborhood who wished to attend the dance were gathered at this house. Agent Ben Wright and a few others stayed at their houses, not caring to join in the festivity.
Geisels Thought Indians Friends
    "Among these were Mr. Geisel and his family, composed of his wife, a daughter 13 years of age, and an infant daughter. Mr. Geisel was a German who had been drawn to the mines at the mouth of the river by the alluring reports of their great richness. Soon after coming to the mines he sent to San Francisco for his family, and on their arrival opened a restaurant. [All other accounts describe the Geisels as "keeping hotel."]
    "To Mrs. Geisel, the Indians were a novelty, and, being of a brave temperament, she was not frightened at their paint and scant clothing, but employed them around the house in the capacity of cutters of wood and carriers of water. She was prompt to pay in the line of cold meat and bread, so they became her friends (for a time). Whenever any news of the war would reach her from the upper country she would question the Indians regarding their feelings toward the whites. They, of course, protested their great love and admiration for the settlers and miners.
    "She often asked them if they would kill her and her children, if they should go to war with the whites, to which they replied that they would not, but would take her to cook for them, for she was a fine cook, could beat all the squaws in the village. They assured her again and again that they would not go on the war path, and if they should she need not fear, for they were all agreed that she and her children should not suffer.
Geisels Warned of Massacre
    "On the eve of the 22nd an Indian to whom Geisels had shown particular favor told Mrs. Geisel that the Indians intended to begin a massacre of the whites that night, and that she and her family had better leave the place. To this she paid no particular attention, thinking the Indian only intending to frighten her.
    "Mr. Geisel told Agent Wright about it who said it was all bosh, that if anything of the kind were intended that he, Wright, would have known it long ago. This settled the matter, of course, but even Wright must have had some misgivings. He kept back his fears, however, and put a good face on the suspicious circumstances of the few days past.
    "Eight o'clock had struck, and the merry dancers were whirling to the music of a quick waltz--one--two--three. 'Did you hear that? Who can be shooting at this time of night down at the mouth of the river?'
     "The waltz suddenly ends. All rush to the doors to listen. 'Was that a voice, calling?' 'No. It's only your imagination.' All is still.
    "'Come, everybody, let's begin the dance again. Strike up there, fiddler, give us a lively waltz.'
    "At dusk all the houses on the beach and along the river were closed. Here and there streaks of light shine out through the cracks of some cabin, but the most of them are deserted for the ball room up on the Big Flat.
    "Agent Wright is sitting at his desk writing to Superintendent Palmer, while his Indian confidant is lounging upon the bed at one side of the office. [Many of these details of the attacks are unknowable and invented.]
Geisels Attacked
    "Mrs. Geisel sits alone with her children in their large front room. The clock has just struck seven, and Mrs. Geisel looks towards the door, for she hears a step. Of course it is her husband, for he should have been home before this time; he had only gone down the beach a mile or so to put some sluice boxes out of reach of the surf.
    "The step is heard again, but no one opens the door. Going to the door, she opens it and is confronted by the Indian who had warned her only a few hours before. The situation flashed upon her mind at once, and she made haste to close the door, accomplishing it just as a chorus of hideous yells burst upon her ears.
    "She seized her infant daughter in her arms, and calling to Mary to follow, fled into the kitchen, intending to go from there to the brush behind the house. As she opened the outside door of the kitchen she saw her husband running toward her, hotly pursued by Indians.
    "He rushed up to the door and fell headlong to the ground at her side, saying, 'I'm killed.'  Before she could move she was surrounded by savages, forced into the house and there tied, she and her daughter, Mary, to the logs of the wall. The Indians then left them there and went out to keep up the murder and pillage." [This version omits the most horrific details of Mrs. Geisel's testimony.]
    Our last quotation left Mrs. Geisel and her daughter, Mary, tied to the wall and the husband and father dead. The work of murder and pillage, as related by Hillman, continued as follows:
    "About 6 o'clock the Indians had gathered together under the bluffy bank on the beach, and, covered by the increasing darkness, separated into several squads and set out to begin their work of rapine and murder.
    "Geisel's restaurant and Wright's office were about half a mile apart, and while the first part of the massacre, which appeared in a former part of this narrative, was being enacted, a squad of savages headed by Enos had approached Wright's house and surrounded it, without creating any alarm. [All other accounts say that Wright lived and worked "at the mouth of Rogue River." The Geisel hotel was seven miles north.]
    "When they had completed their circle around the house Enos went to the door, and in his usual conciliatory tone called to Wright to come out, as he wanted to talk with him. Wright hesitated, but the confidant urged him to go out, asked if he was a coward, and when that word was used Wright sprang to his feet and, opening the door, stepped out.
    "Enos had purposely stepped to one side after calling to Wright to come out, the better to hide his movements. When Wright stepped out he was blinded by the darkness, and seeing no one, he asked, 'What do you want?' At that moment Enos stepped out from the darkness and answered, 'I want you,' adding a string of oaths, and struck him a blow on the head with an ax with which he had provided himself for that purpose.
Wright Slain, Is Victim of Traitor Enos
    "Wright was partially stunned by the blow, but received only a slight cut, and turning toward the door he made a step forward, when Enos dealt him another and fatal blow with the edge of the axe, which cleft his skull, and he fell to the ground with a groan, while his confidant leisurely stepped out and joined the band of murderers. Wright's body was brutally mutilated and left on the spot where it fell.
    "The other squads of Indians were, at the same time, industriously engaged in performing their allotted share of the tragedy. Going from cabin to cabin, killing the inmates, rifling and then setting them on fire. All was accomplished in a short half hour, and the savages then turned their footsteps towards the building where the ball was going on at its height of enjoyment.
     "About three quarters of a mile above the mouth of the river and on the trail to Big Flat lived a miner of a recluse nature, who did not attend the ball. Engaged in poring over some old dusty volume, oblivious of the turmoil of death and destruction going on at the mouth of the river, he was suddenly brought to a state of wakefulness by the sudden rushing of footsteps and a tremendous push and thump at his door, which shook the frail tenement from floor to roof.
    "Dropping his volume of ancient lore, he seized his double-barreled gun, and had hardly time to raise the locks when the door gave way and a crowd of savages rushed forward to effect an entrance. He let off one barrel and then the other and two Indians fell on the threshold and several more reeled and fell back into the darkness, while our recluse drew his revolver, which, according to the custom of the times he carried in his belt, and began a brisk fusillade out into the dark mass of Indians.
    "Taken by surprise by the sudden and determined resistance of the lonely inmate of the cabin, the savages, after firing a few random shots at the brave man, fled en masse toward the Big Flat, intending to attack the dancers and there continue the work of death.
Dance Revelry Is Broken
    "Do you recollect I told you that about 8 o'clock the dancers at Big Flat thought they heard three shots in succession down towards the mouth of the river, and that they also heard, as they thought, a cry or call for help; that some thought nothing of it, and they began dancing again?"
    "Yes, yes, we remember, but what of it?"
    "Well, some of the dancers recalled the few words of warning given to Mrs. Geisel by the Indian, and five of them, forsaking the pleasures of the gay dance and the charming company and conversation of the exquisite belles (nine-tenths of them rusty miners, who for the time were called Lizzie, Jennie, Polly, Kate, etc., etc. all for the sake of a jolly dance, you know) who graced the puncheon floor of the hall, seized their rifles and in Indian file started down the trail towards the mouth of the river, to discover the cause of the shots and call which they supposed they had heard.
    "It was dark, very dark, and the trail led through heavy timber and dense thickets of brush, and it soon became very difficult to keep or follow it. Carefully groping their way through a grove of wide-spreading myrtle timber about half a mile below their starting point, they suddenly became aware of a large number of persons coming directly towards them.
    "Halting and stepping carefully to one side and behind some of the thickly growing trees that lined the trail, they awaited developments. It was only a moment and they were convinced that the moving mass were Indians. The men had some knowledge of the Indian language, sufficient at least to understand that the Indians were excited and belligerent, and by the sounds they knew that they carried bows and arrows and guns.
    "It did not require much conjecture to convince the men that the Indians were on the warpath, and that the shots heard a short time before were the result of an attack on the people below. That the Indians had been successful was evinced by their coming up towards Big Flat, apparently for the purpose of putting a finishing stroke on the affair by killing those who were engaged at the ball.
Volley Retards Red Onslaught
    "There was no opportunity for the men to talk with one another, but they were tacitly under the leadership of Jim, and all the others waited to hear from him. He dare not speak for fear of endangering a plan which he was maturing for killing as many as possible of the Indians and stampeding the balance.
    "At last silence became intolerable and Jim called out in a loud husky voice, 'Every man kill an Indian and run like h--l for the mouth of the river,' followed by the crack of his rifle, and almost instantaneously by the shots of his companions.
    "The Indians had not yet recovered from their defeat and disappointment by the recluse miner, mentioned above, and this sudden assault by our five brave men completely upset their plans for the attack on the dancers above, and sent them scattering through the woods, brush and rock for a safer place.
    "As soon as the men delivered their fire they trailed arms and started down through the timber towards the mouth of the river. Some of the Indians, too, went pell mell down in the same direction.
    "Now was to be seen (it light enough) whites and Indians running from one another, side by side and in the same direction. Like riding on a railroad one has death often sitting by his side, and in this instance, each had for a companion in his flight one who, if he had known who was his companion, would have turned and dealt a death blow before many steps had been taken.
He Smelled Reds
    "Everybody on the Oregon coast knows Yates--'Hell Honey Yates' as he was usually called. Yates was one of those five fugitives, and while running at full head of steam he ran afoul of his nearest neighbor, and in the intense darkness could not distinguish who his neighbor was. But having a good nose for smelling, he thought his neighbor smelled rather strong of a rancheria. Not having the least suspicion that his companion could be any other than one of the five men who started with him from the Big Flat, he ventured in an undertone to banter the unknown regarding his strong Indian smell. No sooner had he spoken a word than he was startled by that mystic 'Ugh' and felt a sharp sting in his right arm while he heard the dull twang of a bowstring.
    "Brought suddenly to a realizing sense of his danger, he ejaculated his usual formula of speech, 'Hell, Honey, Hurrah for Yates,' and instantly fired one barrel of his double gun into the body of his Indian companion, who fell to the ground with a dull gurgle, and curled up in the last struggle.
    "When Yates and his neighbor made the mutual discovery and brought their companionship to a sudden termination, similar discoveries were made at other points of the race course, and not many minutes elapsed before a regular powwow ensued, mingled with the oaths and execrations of the five white men, while occasional shots were exchanged between the parties. In a very short time the parties separated by mutual consent. The five men kept on down the river while the Indians took to the hills.
Cabin Attack Is Recounted
    "Reaching the cabin of the brave recluse, the five men were delighted with his defense, and urged him to go on down to the mouth of the river, but he declined to accompany then. He did not want to leave his cabin to be destroyed by the savages. At last he prevailed on the men to stay with him until daylight.
    "Early next morning the men started for the mouth. In a short time they came in sight of the smoldering ruins of the many cabins which had been set on fire by the Indians.
    "Here and there a dead body was found, in all cases brutally mangled. Some seemed to have been tortured. One of their number was sent up to the Big Flat to carry the news of the massacre to those who had remained there and danced all night while the Indians were killing their [friends down the] river.
    "While standing over the dead body of a miner who had been ruthlessly hacked and mangled, they were joined by a man by the name of Charley Foster, who proceeded to narrate his experience during the night when the murders were going on.
     "'I was,' said he, 'sitting in that cabin there with that man, when the Indians came to the door and called to me to come out. I did not want to go, as I have made it a rule never to go out at night when called upon to do so, for I believe there is always more or less danger in doing so, but this man, who had come to spend the night with me, said that he would go out and see what the Indians wanted. I remonstrated, but he was bent on going at all hazards, so I told him to go if he must.'
    "'The Indians, thinking it was me, said to him when he stepped out, "How do Charley. You good man, come here," and the man stepped out still farther into the darkness. I had neither knife, pistol nor gun, or I would have gone out too, to see what was wanted. I had barely time to think when I heard a blow struck and the man said, "Oh, don't kill me."
    "'The door was shut and the Indians could not see me in the house, and as soon as I heard the blow and exclamation I knew what was up, for I had been of the opinion for a long time that we would have trouble before many months, and that was the main reason I would not go out.
    "'I instantly pulled the latch string inside and, tearing out the cloth that served for a window, I crept through the aperture and made one or two long jumps and dropped into a bunch of brush which was very thick and tangled. The Indians did not hear me, as they thought they had me on the ground before them, knowing that I lived alone.
    "'As I lay there not 30 feet from them, I could hear them hacking away on the poor fellow and saying in Chinook Jargon, "How do you like that, Charley? You are a good man, Charley, but I will make you better," and the brutes would strike that poor man's body with an ax or with their big knives.
    "'I lay there, unable, in my unarmed state, to render my friend any assistance. It would have been sure death for me to have attempted to offer help or to run for a more distant hiding place. All around me I could hear sounds of murder, and many a time I heard cries for help, but was powerless. For hours, I thought, the work of murder went on, while I lay there in that small patch of brush.'
    "During the night the Indians had returned to the place where they had bound Mrs. Geisel and her daughter, Mary. After brutally maltreating them, and tearing their clothes almost entirely from their bodies they drove them out into the cold night air of the ocean beach, keeping them there until the work of murder was completed. They then drove them back into the hills where the squaws and children had been sent as soon as the attack began."
Plight of Whites at Beach Unknown for Month
    The story of the Indian troubles at the mouth of the river continued as follows:
    Early the following evening the men gathered at the tent to hear a continuation of Hillman's narrative. Quite a number of settlers and quartermaster's employees were noticed among the gathered throng. Hillman was soon astride the pile of wood which the Lieut. Col.'s cook always kept on hand for cooking the morning meal.
    "Tell us first," said someone, "if the expected company of volunteers ever made their appearance at the mouth of the river?"
     "I intended to tell you about that shortly," said Hillman, "but I must first detail as near as I can what happened up the river, and how the few settlers that were left defended themselves against the Indians until the volunteers and regulars came to their assistance."
    "I did not know there were any regular troops that far down. I supposed that those of Capt. A. J. Smith at Big Bend were all the troops on that section of the country," continued the first speaker.
    "You were mistaken, then," continued Hillman. "Captain Jones was stationed at Crescent City in California, 65 miles below, with a part of his company. Agent Wright had made arrangements with him to come up the mouth of the river as soon as he could obtain orders to do so from the commanding officer of the department. But it was not till the first day of the following month (March) that he received orders to move. Capt. Ord was at the same time ordered to repair to Crescent City and join Capt. Jones, in the march to the mouth of the river to chastise the Indians.
    "Mr. George H. Abbott was busy, during the stay of Wright in Crescent City, in trying to organize a company of volunteers to accompany Wright to Rogue River, but was delayed in getting arms and horses for the men and Wright started up alone, while Abbott was to follow as soon as he could do so.
    "It was not till the first of March that Abbott was able to move from Chetco River, 40 miles below Rogue River. Captains Jones and Ord, of the regulars, did not leave Crescent City till the 8th of March, and did not arrive at Rogue River till the 20th. Thus it was nearly a month after the massacre before assistance came, in men or food, for they were in extreme want for both.
Dance Broken Up
    "We must now go back to the time when the five men sent one of their number up to the Big Flat with the news of the outbreak. It was not necessary to send him, for those at that place had become painfully aware that the Indians had been at deadly work at the mouth, but to what lengths they had gone, they did not know.
    "The dancers stopped as they heard the firing by the five men into the mass of Indians on their way to the Big Flat to massacre the dancers. Gathering together outside the building in which they had such a short time before been so merry, and with rifles ready, they stood guard until dawn of day. Then, starting three men ahead as scouts, they began a slow but determined march towards the devastated settlements at the mouth of the river.
    "They were not molested, nor did they see signs of Indians until half way down, when they received half a dozen shots from high up on the side of the hill, which did no damage, but which had a tendency to stimulate a more rapid movement toward their destination.
    "They soon stood beside those who had gone before, and those who had escaped the massacre, amid the yet smoldering ruins of many cabins, and over the mangled bodies of those who had been so ruthlessly butchered.
    "Gathering together all the dead bodies that could be found, they dug separate graves, and buried them side by side in a small grove of alders that grew by the side of a running brook, which a little further on dashes over a precipitous bank and, again gathering headway, sweeps gaily along over the pebbly beach, washing and hurrying the golden sands swiftly along towards the rumbling breakers where at last it is swallowed up in the mighty, fathomless ocean."
     "Why, Hillman, you're of a poetic turn of mind--didn't know that before," ventured Major Bruce.
    "I was not exactly thinking of what I was saying, but my mind was down there in that alder grove, listening to that energetic, earnest prayer offered up over the graves of those dead pioneers, and taking in those lofty soul-mellowing strains of that old impressive hymn sung when the prayer was ended:
    "While the graves were being filled a shower of bullets came snapping through the branches of the alder trees, but doing no damage. Those standing around the graves rushed out in the direction from which the bullets came, but no enemy was to be found, as they fled as soon as they fired, into the dense timber and hills which surrounded us.
Survivors Pool Resources
    "When the graves had been filled each proceeded to do his part in stocking up and bringing to a designated spot all provisions, bedding, tools and all kinds of useful articles that had not been destroyed by the Indians. Putting all these into a log house which they had fixed upon as their place of residence until relief came, or until they could leave for the lower settlement, they proceeded to build additions to it, and had the place of defense which the Indians could not, should they attempt to, carry by assault or by regular siege.
    "When their fort was completed they began to look around them for the enemy, but in all but a few cases were disappointed.
    "The Indians lurked around in the hills above the mouth, and along the trail leading down the coast, but were quite shy in showing themselves to those who were looking for them.
    "It was not long before the diet of bacon, bread and tea and coffee began to show its effects on the occupants of the fort. Fresh meat was only to be had by killing deer, and to kill them it was necessary to go out in force to save themselves from being killed by the Indians.
    "So one morning a number of the best shots in the fort were detailed to make an attempt to get some fresh meat. Coming down a long slope of the Coast Range, they could see the Big Flat above and the mouth of the river below.
Hunters Exposed
    "Heavily loaded with venison, they had sat down on a bare, rocky ridge to rest themselves. Busily intent on looking at the fine landscape spread out before them, and especially the Big Flat, where they could see persons standing and walking, here and there, they were not aware that they themselves were being watched.
    "Suddenly a heavy volley of bullets was fired amongst them. Springing to their feet and looking around, it was some minutes before they learned from what quarter they were being assailed. From the brush through which they had just passed, which formed a saddle over the sharp rock backbone of the ridge, the Indians were pouring bullets and arrows into the little squad of eight men.
    "Being in open view and sitting down when the Indians fired at them, it would be supposed that they would all have been killed or wounded, but they escaped with only five of them slightly wounded, none so badly that he could not still use his rifle, which each did with good effect. There was no way of retreat.
    "The ridge was bare of brush, trees or rocks ahead of them for half a mile; the sides were also bare for a hundred yards down each way, and so steep that one could neither run nor walk down.
Counterattack
    "When the men had taken in the situation, which they were but a few seconds in doing, one of them said in a loud tone, 'Charge them boys, it's our only chance.' And with a loud and defiant yell the boys charged 60 yards in open ground, up to and into the brush. It took but a few seconds for the brave and determined men to reach the brush and begin to deal death amongst their enemies.
    "Jumping into the brush at random, firing and striking with their revolvers wherever found, and in almost every instance with deadly effect, they soon cleared the thicket of the enemy and received themselves no further injury than that received at the first fire. The Indians, not accustomed to nor expecting such heroic resistance, and having suffered a loss of a third of their number in killed, fled with their wounded back along the ridge and then down the mountain towards Big Flat on the river, leaving our brave men to gather up the spoils of the fray, such as guns, pistols, knives, bows and arrow and…"
    "Didn't they scalp the dead Indians?" someone asked.
    "I can't tell you. I never heard that they said they did," replied Hillman, "but if they did they were not to be blamed much."
    "They now had no more fear of being attacked while on their way home. So, bandaging their wounds as well as they could with the limited means at hand, they gathered their spoils and game and made their way down to the fort. A staggering set they were. Two of them were wounded in the calf of the leg, and by the time they arrived at the fort, they were limping equal to Old Limpy himself, while those who were not wounded were carrying more than their share of the game and were drooping under their accumulated burden.
Fresh Meat Relished
    "After they had reached the fort and told their experience, the deer were soon dressed and as the hunters were very hungry, and the others were very anxious to have a taste of fresh meat. It was not long before the welcome aroma of broiling venison was working a salutary effect on the minds of all in the fort. Gaiety soon took the place of the dark somber thought which had filled, for a week past, the minds of the anxious persons.
    "While some learned doctor shall have said that gaiety is the bud and blossom of health, he will have said that which is as true as that gaiety promotes confidence, elevates courage and sharpens the wit.
    "In a brief half hour all bodiment ailment was forgotten and evil forebodings set aside. Even the brave recluse who so nobly defended his cabin against a horde of savages, ventured a skeleton joke.
    "'Hi!' exclaimed someone, 'wouldn't some potatoes go nice with this treat?' 'That's it, boys,' chimed in the Rev. M. B. Gregory, who was not an inch behind the bravest of the men in an affray with the Indians, 'We'll have some, too; there is a lot of them up the river, and we can have them if we have the courage to go after them.'
    "'All right, parson, if you will go along and point them out, we'll get them tomorrow.'
    "'I'll go. Ever since we buried those poor mangled bodies under those alder trees I've felt that I would just as soon as not have a shot at the murderous rascals of Indians.'
    "'You'll have a chance for that tomorrow, for we saw Indians by the dozens on Big Flat,' said one of the eight hunters. 'They seemed to be busy at something--probably they were carrying the potatoes away.'
    "'Then we must be off by daylight tomorrow morning and get our share, and I'll take the lead.' And the parson elevated himself to his full height, six feet, three." [The story of the disastrous foray for potatoes is widely recorded in contemporary accounts of Fort Miners, but none mention a venison hunt beforehand.]
    "Tell us," said someone, "all you know of the adventures of Captains Ord, Jones and Abbott while on their way from Crescent City to relieve those forted up at the mouth of the river."
    "As I told you a few evenings ago," continued Hillman, "Captain Abbott moved from Chetco River about the first of March, 1856 to relieve those at Rogue River. Pursuing his way up the trail he met no obstacles until near the mouth of Pistol Creek, 15 miles below Rogue River. [Click here for contemporary accounts of the battle at Pistol Creek.]
    "As his command descended the trail from the mountain to the beach they saw ahead of them a few Indians, who retreated as they advanced.
    "Cautiously continuing along the trail till near night, he became aware that the Indians were gathering in force in his front with the apparent purpose of disputing his further progress. Pushing on, the command arrived within a mile or so of Pistol Creek; then they found themselves confronted with a large band of Indians, who began an attack in their usual way, firing and giving that disgusting yell which is usually termed a war whoop.
    "Without water for themselves or their horses the soldiers were compelled to stop and fight. Corralling their pack mules and riding horses they settled themselves to the fray with real earnestness. The horses and mules, unused to such noise, became almost unmanageable, while a few escaped and were captured by the Indians.
    "Soon the Indians increased in number and their attack became more furious and determined. They were sheltered behind driftwood which lined the beach, and by the dense scrubby brush which grows at the end of the sand at the foot of the hills. Darkness was coming on and no hopes of water or assistance. The men had hitherto been only partially sheltered by the driftwood next to the surf."
Tides Are Aid to Red Attack
    Their situation was becoming each moment more critical, the Indians pressing from the land side and in front and rear, while the surf would soon rise with the tide and engulf the entire command unless they shifted their ground. It was becoming apparent to each man that his life hung by a single hair.
    Captain Abbott was a true soldier, and taking in the situation clearly, he gave his orders loud and clear above the din of rifle shots and the booming of the surf, which was by this time surging up and washing at their feet as a warning for them to leave their ground and seek a higher one.
    "A ridge about 100 yards away, although occupied by the Indians, offered the only safe retreat from the surf, and as the Indians were all around, it mattered little which way they went--death seemed to stare them from all sides. As soon as the captain had made up his mind as to the best course to be pursued, he shouted loud enough to be heard by all, 'Boys, do you see that ridge yonder? We must go to it or die in our tracks. Follow me and let the animals go to h---! Come on.'
Reds Routed
    "Clambering over the dense driftwood and logs, the men charged right into the nest of yelling savages who were as thick as ants on their way to the ridge. The Indians had the advantage in numbers and position, but the men must have shelter from both surf and bullets; some had been wounded at the beginning of the fray but none killed. Only one was wounded so badly as to need help, and many there were to help him, and soon all were safely on the ridge, busily engaged in piling up a breastworks of the small logs and sticks with which they were surrounded.
    "As soon as they were driven from the ridge the Indians were demoralized and ceased fighting. They had not expected to meet such stubborn resistance. Most of the animals fell into the hands of the Indians, but a few packed with ammunition and provisions were secured. Working hard in the darkness, the men soon surrounded themselves with defenses which made them secure from sudden attack, and then turned their attention to making themselves as comfortable as possible for the night."
Lack of Food, Water Taunted by Indians
    They had no water, and after a little while the thirst became unbearable, especially to the wounded. Water must be had at all hazards, and finally three men volunteered to go after it to a little brook about 100 yards distance. Laying aside their guns and taking such vessels as they could carry the three men went out into the darkness on their perilous errand. Orders were given not to fire until the men returned or had been discovered by Indians.
    A deep silence followed, broken only occasionally by a shot from an Indian and the continual sighing of the breeze through the tree tops. Five minutes, 10, 20, half an hour passed, and the waiting men peered anxiously into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of their three brave companions returning.
    Suddenly the crash of many rifles came from the direction the men had just taken, and faintly the rush of hurrying footsteps could be heard. A few straggling bullets came pattering onto the logs of the barricade and then all was quiet again but the moaning of the wind and the roaring of the surf, and the breathless suspense in the camp was painful, as the men watched with rifles cocked, ready to welcome friend or foe.
    An hour passed and the three men did not come. Hope had almost fled, when a well-known voice was heard with the news that they had returned safe, and with water. They had a narrow escape, and after the burning thirst of the wounded had been assuaged and the others had each been allowed to drink a little, the men recounted their adventures to eager listeners.
Mission for Water a Success
    The men recounted how they safely and unobserved by the Indians, made their way to the little stream and were just beginning to fill their vessels, when a lot of Indians came towards them, carrying one of their number who had been wounded. They only had time to slip gently under a large log which was partially covered with small timber and sticks and sit quietly until the savages thought proper to leave.
    They had not yet tasted any water, being in too much haste to get back to their friends and were compelled to crouch under the log and listen to the Indians drinking their fill, not more than 10 feet away from them, while the water invitingly rippled past. Laying the wounded red [man] down near the water, the Indians, after satisfying their own thirst, went away and left him alone.
    Not daring to speak to each other as they crouched under the log, the three men each knew what the other was thinking of--the wounded Indian must be dispatched, and so quietly as not to alarm the rest. Nudging each other, and with a perfect understanding, the men drew their knives in preparation for the sickening work. As soon as the other Indians were out of earshot, they pounced upon the helpless savage and soon made a "good Indian" of him.
    But in the death struggle he had given a shout loud enough to reach the ears of his comrades, and by the time the three men had filled their vessels with water and had started off for the barricade a number of Indians had reached the spot. The Indians saw at once what had happened and started in pursuit of the men; but the darkness was too great to give them any hope of capture, so in their sheer desperation they sent a volley after the retreating men.
    The men had hidden themselves in the driftwood to escape their pursuers, and when all was quiet they ventured out and made their way safely into the barricade. The night passed without any more damage than they had suffered in the forepart of the attack. An occasional shot would vary the monotonous moaning of the wind and roaring of the surf.
Morning Brings Attack
    Morning dawned and the Indians were as numerous and determined as at first, and when daylight gave them a view of the situation they opened upon the command with renewed vigor. The men were fairly protected by their improvised breastworks and did not show any signs of weakening. Now and then as at other and similar encounters the firing would slacken and the hostile parties would engage in reciprocal badinage.
    In this case the Indians had the best of it, for they taunted the men with being hungry while they themselves had fared sumptuously on the captured flour and sugar. In this manner the fight continued for some hours, when one of the command, the bravest of them all, and an officer of the company, Buck Miller, was shot through the head and instantly killed. His body was dragged out of the reach of the bullets and placed under a large log. Several more of the men had been wounded and the Indians were pressing closer and closer as if determined to annihilate the command.
    The situation was now becoming more desperate than ever. Want of water and food had begun to tell on some of the men and all were more or less demoralized. Consulting with his men, Capt. Abbott was about to order an advance towards the river to cut his way through the Indians if possible, and thence on to Rogue River, when the Indians were seen to hastily leave their coverts on the lower end of the trail and scamper wildly into the brush and up the hill.
    In a few minutes three horsemen were seen to descend in a gallop to the beach, closely followed by a straggling band of blue-coated men. On they came, the officers, who were mounted, waving their swords and urging the men forward, onward along the beach until they reached to within 200 yards of the battleground when the Indians began pouring into them a heavy volley from the brush and timber on the right.
Rescuers Arrive
    At this juncture the volunteers raised a loud shout, and swinging their hats high in the air as a sign and welcome to their rescuers, who proved to be the commands of Captains Ord and Jones, and who came rushed pell-mell into the barricade. For a few minutes the hostile parties peppered each other, when the order was given to charge the Indians in the direction of the river, which lay but a short distance away.
    A guard, composed of soldiers and volunteers, was detailed to take care of the pack animals, while the remainder of the consolidated commands prepared to charge the enemy. It was necessary to charge in three parties, one obliquely to the left, one obliquely to the right and one forward in the center. Capt. Abbott took the left, Jones the right, and Ord commanded the center, while the wounded men, with the body of Buck Miller packed on a mule, and the pack train followed closely in the rear of the center.
    While the dispositions for the forward movement were being made, the firing continued as brisk as ever. The Indians saw the intention of the soldiers and seemed determined to frustrate it if possible. They gathered in front and flanks more dense than before, and with renewed vigor poured in their shots upon the equally defiant troops.
    Present a clear, ringing bugle blast was heard. The loud hoarse commands were given to "forward" and the movement began.
    Fidler again picks up the thread of the war story, now drawing all warring factions to the final climax and war's end.
    "Springing over the breastworks of logs, they yelled and fired, each man on his own account, now behind a log taking aim at an Indian, then up and forward, the officers doing equal duty with the men in all respects. The Indians slowly gave way as the troops pressed upon them, their chiefs giving orders in a peculiar and loud voice. Soon the river was reached.
    "From across the river in front, from the hill and brush on the right, and from the dense thickets in the rear harassing fire was kept up upon the small body of troops. While the wounded were being cared for by the surgeon and his assistants and the almost famished volunteers were slaking their thirst at the river, the soldiers kept back the Indians, who yet seemed determined to capture the combined force, or, at all hazards, to prevent their progress towards the mouth of the river.
    "Capt. Ord, who was the senior officer, then detailed a guard to protect the animals as they grazed around the camp and leaving the 15 men in camp as a reserve and to care for the baggage, crossed over the river and drove the Indians out of their hiding places. Having only 60 men to contend against two or three hundred Indians, he had a hard task but it must be performed. They must depend upon their own powers, and to show any signs of weakening would be a glad token to the Indians and would encourage them to press their advantage in numbers and superior knowledge of the country.
    "Knowing that courage and activity would alone save them, Ord, after having cleared the brush on the edge of the river, pushed on and drove the Indians further back over a low hill and sent them scurrying down its declivity into a small valley.
    "By this time a large party of Indians had placed themselves between the troops and the camp, and the captain was forced to turn his attention to them. In obedience to orders the men faced about and charged down the hill toward camp, plunging through the tall, tangled fern, yelling and firing whenever an Indian was seen.
    "The Indians gave way readily before the charge, and although those who had been driven over the hill returned and began a fusillade at long range upon their rear, the troops soon reached camp again with not a single man missing.
    "Those in camp had not been disturbed, except by an occasional shot from some stray Indian, or possibly a sentinel, stationed at some commanding spot to overlook the camp.
    "Night was now near at hand. The shifting clouds and dark banks of vapor which overhung the ocean horizon portended a stormy night. Early in the evening the camp was organized, patrols set out, camp guards placed, horses brought up and picketed, and by dusk all was in readiness for the night. A crude hut of driftwood and brush was constructed to shield as much as possible the wounded men, some of whom were now suffering severely, but there was not shelter for the others should the threatened storm come."
Sentry Challenge Answered
    About midnight one of the patrols saw an object approaching stealthily the place where he was for the moment standing. Presently another joined the first and both came directly towards him. The patrol was a regular soldier and he necessarily followed the military rules and challenged with the regulation challenge. "Who goes there?"
    "Friends" was the amazing answer, "and who are you?"
    "Dick Tudpin, member, Co. U.S. Infantry, Camp Jones, camped 200 yards from here. March to camp. Forward in advance."
    Marching to camp they proved to be Charley Brown, and another, whose name I do not recollect, sent out to look for the troops and volunteers, who had been waited for so long. Remaining in camp all the next day they were sent back, accompanied by four others, to Rogue River with the intelligence that succor would reach them in a few days--as soon as the Indians on Pistol River could be dispersed.
    A week passed and still the camp remained at Pistol River. Scouting parties were sent out daily but did no more than exchange a few shots now and then with some straggling band of Indians or perchance stumble on some deserted Indian camp, which they invariably fired.
U.S. Gold Coins
    A large Indian village which had formerly stood on a slight eminence near where the soldiers camped had been burned the autumn before. In front of the village and nearer the river was their burying ground. Some of the soldiers had accidentally found some Indian money (alaqua chick) hanging on a pole over one of the Indian graves, and the curiosity or cupidity of others was aroused, and those of a sacrilegious turn of mind began to overhaul the graves for more of the same kind of money. They were rewarded in one instance by finding nearly $300 in U.S. gold and silver coin in the grave of some celebrated chieftain, who had been slain in battle or had quietly given up the ghost in his native village.
    Eight or ten days were spent in camp and the Indians had apparently all gone away--scarcely a straggler could be seen. It was thought by some of the men that the Indians had only left Pistol River to gain the advantage of a more favorable position to attack the troops a few miles further on their way at Myers' and Hunters' Creek, at the former of which was a natural ambush just suited to the purposes of the savages. Here the trail runs along the beach under a high rocky bluff which ascends in one place by a steep narrow and difficult way. It was very probable that the Indians were only trying to draw the troops into ambush, but it was determined to move forward and test the situation.
Ambush Risk
    Leaving camp early in the morning, the commanding officer sent Capt. Abbott with his company in advance with orders to move slowly and carefully about the adjacent hills and gulches for signs of Indians. They had only crossed the river and penetrated [omission] spreads the river bottom when they were attacked on each flank and front.
    Ord and Jones came quickly up, and another fight as desperate as the first again commenced. It was a moving battle. The troops kept the trail and slowly pressed forward while the Indians lurked in the thickets and timber on all sides and kept up a straggling fire at long range. As they neared Myers' Creek they descended again to the beach, along which they must travel for a mile, exposed all the while to the fire of the Indians on the right.
    The bullets mostly flew over their heads, but occasionally one would knock the sand into their faces, but no damage to man or pack animal. Nearing the rocky bluff which overhangs the trail at Myers' Creek they saw upon its sides and summit a large number of Indians, ready to pour a destructive fire down upon them. Undaunted, though watchful, the command steadily pursued their course towards the creek and under the ominous rocky bluff.
Rifles Cover Beach March
    When within 150 yards of it, Capt. Ord ordered some of the best shots to halt and try to pick off the Indians who were the most exposed, while the remainder would hug the bluff as close as possible and get the pack train through safely, and then a detachment would return to their assistance.
    Ten good men were detailed who had good rifles, and under the command of Tom Sharp took their station among some large rocks, which are numerous at that point, and began to pick off the Indians so effectively that they found it advisable to change quarters, and in 10 minutes the bluff was clear.
    This was the last stand taken by the Indians, and the troops continued on their way unmolested, and at night encamped at Hunters' Cove.
    "Now boys, I believe I have told you all I know about the massacre at the mouth of the Rogue River. Adios."
Troops Equip
    Mr. Olney will again take the stand and he tells us:
    The listeners dispersed and silence soon took the place of the bustle and stir around the camp fires. The next morning at 8 o'clock Sergeant Major Dawes read to the assembled battalion the following:
    General Order No. 19, Headquarters of Second Reg. O.M.V.,
    Camp at Mouth of Applegate, April 12, 1856.
    Major Bruce of Southern Battalion, O.M.V., will see that captains or companies parade their respective commands on the parade ground at 2 o'clock p.m., this day, that they may be inspected by the commanding officer, and that they receive such ammunition and other supplies as may be necessary. Captains will see to it that their companies shall turn out in full, and that every man shall be present unless absent by special order.
    By order of Brig. Gen. J. K. Lamerick, Jr.
    At the appointed time the companies were ready in line for inspection. Gen. Lamerick, followed closely by Sergeant Major Dawes, came out from his tent and going to the left of the battalion, instead of right, stood a few seconds as if to give the boys a fair chance to cheer him.
Lamerick Described
    Now, while he stands expectant, let me describe the valiant general. The General, is, or was, an undersized man with a small head, forehead of ordinary size, and somewhat sloping backward, which slope continued until it reached the bump of self-esteem; features somewhat on the Grecian style, dark and commonplace; eyes dark gray with, when in good humor, an inclination to twinkle, but which, when the General's body was in danger from too close proximity of the Indians' bullets, seemed to sink away off, as if revolving some deep and mighty plan for the speedy termination of the war. The General wore at the time of which I speak, as the only insignia of his rank, a black felt hat which covered at the time a part of his face, and around his neck was wrapped a large red, white and grey comforter, the red largely predominating.
    As to his courage, I know but little; I was only near him in, or during, one engagement, and I assure all who wish for the assurance that he was at that time where the bullets were the thickest. I stood by his side part of the time and know whereof I speak. For I, as First Lieutenant of Company E. was detailed with 30 men of my company to guard the train at the battle of Big Meadows, on which was packed all the spare ammunition belonging to the regiment.
    The General and I were, during most of the time, standing side by side and I did not see him flinch, but on the contrary, he expressed fervent hope that the boys would whip the Indians.
Volunteer Companies Formed
    Immediately after the bloody uprising of the Indians in 1855, mentioned in previous chapters, the whites began preparations for the desperate war that now seemed inevitable. Fifteen companies of volunteers were organized to cooperate with the federal forces, which they proceeded to do despite the implied interdiction of Gen. Wool.
    The first engagement of any consequence occurred on the 17th of October 1855, near the mouth of Galice Creek, on what is Skull Bar. The battle lasted nearly all day, and when night closed in nearly one third of Company E were hors de combat. J. W. Pickett and Sam Saunders were among the killed, with B. Taft and J. D. Adams among the mortally wounded.
    While the forces were thus contending with the Indians down Rogue River, other depredations were being perpetrated along the main traveled road on Cow Creek.
    On Oct. 23, 1855, says Mrs. Victor, in her history of our early wars, "while a party of wagoners and drivers were at the crossing they were ambushed and attacked, Holland Bailey of Lane County being killed and four others wounded. The remainder of the party retreated with all the haste possible, pursued and harassed for several hours. On the same day the houses of Turner, Bray, Redfield, Fortune and others in Cow Creek Valley were burned."
    And this brings us up to Hungry Hill, one of the most notable battles of the Rogue River War. Mrs. Victor continues as follows: "On Oct. 28, 1855, Fitzgerald, being in the Grave Creek hills, south of Cow Creek, discovered an Indian encampment, and wishing to attack it sent a dispatch to Ross, who immediately ordered Captains Harris, Welton, George and Lewis to reinforce him. Bruce and Rinearson, coming in a little later, were also ordered to Grave Creek, where on the 30th were concentrated 250 volunteers, and 105 regulars, although on account of the illness of Fitzgerald, only a portion of his troops were available."
    "When Ross arrived at the rendezvous late that night, he found Capt. Smith of the First Dragoons impatient to attack. Spies from his own and the volunteer force had found the enemy's position to be on a hill difficult of approach, and well fortified. A map had been made for use by the officers, and Smith assumed command of the combined forces. Although it was already half past ten o'clock in the evening, orders were issued to march at eleven.
Smith Makes Attack Plan
    "Smith's plan was to plant howitzers on an eminence three-fourths of a mile from that occupied by the Indians, and having divided the companies into three columns, stationed so as to enclose the Indians, to open his battery upon them before he had been discovered. His design was frustrated through someone having set fire to a tree and after a toilsome night march he was unable to surprise the enemy. On arriving on the edge of a ravine in front of the enemy's position, instead of shelling the Indians at their stronghold, a charge was ordered.
    "The hill on which the Indians were fortified was bald on the south side, by which the troops were approaching, except for a short but tangled undergrowth with which also the ravine they had to cross was filled. On the north of the Indian position there was a heavy forest.
    "An unexpected reinforcement arrived during the night, consisting of two companies of a battalion called out by Gov. Curry, their captains being Joseph Bailey and Samuel Gordon. To these two companies was assigned the duty of flanking on the north to intercept the Indians in the woods when the charging force should have driven them from their fortification."
    "The captains who led in the charge were Rinearson and Welton, their companies being augmented by portions of others, and a part of the regular force also, all rushing with eagerness to fire the first shot. As had been anticipated, the Indians took shelter in the woods but were not met by Bailey and Gordon as designed, their men finding it impossible to penetrate the dense and tangled underwood in a body, and the Indians were not driven back upon the companies of Harris and Bruce, who were awaiting them in  concealment, as had been anticipated. These two commanders therefore joined the army in front. Thus nothing happened but the unexpected.
Hungry Hill Fought
    "The day passed in vain efforts to get at the Indians, who could not be approached without extreme peril, until three o'clock in the afternoon, when Captain Smith, with a small force of dragoons, made an assault. Several rounds were discharged with the short cavalry arms, which were wholly ineffectual against the rifles of the Indians, when the troopers fell back, having several killed and wounded. Firing continued until dark, when the whole force went into camp at a place named by them 'Bloody Spring,' where the wounded were being cared for and where they all went supperless to their blankets."
    The last part of the last sentence gives the key to the name of the battle, which has gone down into history as the battle of "Hungry Hill." On the part of the whites there were some 26 of the volunteers killed, wounded or missing, and of the regulars three were killed and seven wounded.
    Among the volunteers reported mortally wounded is the name of Charles Goodwin, but this was a mistake. He was wounded but not mortally. He lived many years afterward on Williams Creek, until he went in his old age to the Soldier's Home at Roseburg. Next morning after the battle the Indians renewed the fight, but being repulsed both parties retired, making it a draw.
Eulogy to Pedigo
    Mr. Sutton has left us an eloquent tribute to one of the men who fell in this engagement, as follows: "The object of this writing is to renew the memory of one who fell defending the hearthstones of Southern Oregon. I have in my mind's eye a few among the old pioneers of the valley, who will remember the name of Jonathan Pedigo. Few have passed the stage station on Grave Creek, on the O.&C. stage road, who have not noticed a row of mounds in an open pasture on the west side of the road, just north of the stage buildings. Beneath those mounds lie all that is left on earth of P. W. Miller, James Pearcy, Henry Pearl, John Winters and Jonathan Pedigo, a part of those who fell during the two fearful days of the battle of Hungry Hill, 16 miles from that point.
    "Jonathan Pedigo was a young man who had just passed his majority. During an acquaintance of six months in the mines, I did not learn anything of his former history in reference to his place of birth, parentage or relatives. My only intimacy with him was during our service in the war of 1855, from the 7th day of October to the time of his death, less than one month. Yet, during this short period, all his comrades had learned to love the name of Jonathan Pedigo for the great benevolent heart that beat within his bosom.
Pedigo Well Liked
    "Brave to a fault, ever ready to do his duty and more. The old men of our company, of whom we had several, were relieved by his ever-ready hand from much of the rigor of Indian warfare. He would attend to their horses, and occasionally take their place on guard on a cold rainy night. Being large and robust, his greatest pleasure seemed to be in relieving the hardships of those possessing in a smaller degree the power of endurance.
    "Some two summers since, while passing the little cemetery referred to, I halted for the purpose of visiting the grave of my old comrade. I stood beside the little row of graves that I found blended in one, although the mounds are yet plainly visible, and will remain so yet a little longer. No board or stone at head or foot is found; no one can tell these graves apart. In unity they met a common foe, in unity they fell, in unity they lie beneath these sods, and ere long in unity they will be forgotten."
    "In vain I sought to determine the grave in which reposed the mortality of my old friend; it was lost, lost among its comrades. After a short search among the weeds and grass that grew over their graves, I found a small fragment of half decayed wood on which I could quite plainly trace the following inscription, which my own hands had carved full 20 years before: 'Jonathan Pedigo: Killed by Indians at the battle of Hungry Hill, Oct. 31st, 1855.'
    "Poor boy, poor boy, were the only thoughts reiterated and reiterated through my mind for some moments as I gazed at the sad relic. A retrospective train of thoughts took possession of my mind, which occupied the entire time at my disposal by the side of the unknown grave of my friend. Vivid memories crowded past in panoramic regularity, sad memories of the distant past, such as we love to contemplate in the solitude where we can indulge the silent tear. Ah yes, and weep as in the days of our childhood to relieve the pangs of grief and make sorrow a pleasure for a reason."
    (Editor's Note--The cemetery referred to here was at the site of Old Fort Leland, on the west side of the road and nearly across from the Grave Creek house. It was in the corner of a field just across the Leland Road from the "little red schoolhouse."  No trace of the cemetery now remains except a few pieces of marble thrown against a fence. The field has been under cultivation for some years.--A.E.V. [Amos Earle Voorhies] 1953.)
    As showing how wide was the military field of operations in 1856, the battle of Upper Applegate now calls for attention. John S. Miller, who took part in that engagement, gave me some of the particulars, but as Mrs. Victor has preserved a pretty correct account of that fight I will quote from it first:
    "About the last of December 1855, Major Bruce, being informed by express from Sterling that a party of Indians had fortified themselves in three deserted log cabins on Applegate Creek, ordered Capt. Rice and Alcorn to prepare for a campaign in the mountains and himself proceeded to Fort Lane to ask the assistance of Capt. Smith with his howitzer. Obtaining the promise of this, he made a forced march up to the forks of Applegate with Rice's company of 40 men on the first of January, and on the second, 20 miles further up the creek, where he found an independent company of 50 citizens from Sterling surrounding the cabins.
Howitzer Awaited
    "Nothing could be done before the arrival of the howitzer on the afternoon of the fourth, the intervening time being spent in snow from six to twelve inches deep, with severe weather, the volunteers exchanging occasional shots with the Indians. In the three days of waiting and suffering, three Indians were killed and several wounded, while Captain Rice lost one man killed, and the citizen company three wounded.
    "On the arrival of Lieut. Underwood from Fort Lane with 40 regulars and the howitzer, a shell was dropped into one of the cabins, wounding one Indian and two children, when several were seen to retreat to another cabin a few yards distance. A few more shells were thrown without effect, when night coming on, the several companies were posted in a manner which was intended to prevent an escape; the regulars being between the Indians and the hills, and the volunteers and citizens on two other sides, the lines almost meeting.
    "With all this precaution about 11 o'clock the Indians crept up to the line of soldiers, firing and yelling. In the first surprise a number broke through the line and escaped to the hills, but the regulars recovering themselves turned a portion of them back towards the creek, across which they succeeded in escaping, the sentinels being unable to get at them by reason of the thickets along the stream, their trail being found by daylight to be stained with blood.
    "It was only the fighting men of the besieged, however, who had taken wing when the sentinels of the regular force, not liking the cold and perhaps not liking to fight an unseen enemy, returned to camp; and before their commander could order them back to their posts, the Indian women and their children, and a pack animal, also passed the line, and gained the hills."
Wounded Indian Boy Left
    On examining the cabins it was found that the Indians had burned their dead but had left a wounded boy to the mercy of his captors. From him it was learned that the party occupying the cabins belonged to Chief Joe, and the skill with which he fortified his camp would have defied the volunteer arms; it was only the howitzer which could dislodge him.
    A subterranean passage had been excavated leading from the cabins to the open country and pits dug in each corner of the cabins deep enough to stand in, with loop-holes under the bottom logs through which they could shoot without being exposed; all of which was surprising in savage military science, but was probably learned from communication with white men.
    "Bruce wished to follow the trail of the Indians, but Lieutenant Underwood declared his men unfit for traveling in the mountains and the citizen company were unprepared. They, therefore, returned to Sterling and Underwood to Fort Lane; while Bruce retired to Camp Spencer on the lower Applegate Creek to recruit the horses, and give his company a much-needed rest after three days and nights watching in snow and cold, remaining there until the 18th."
    On that date he was joined by Captains O'Neil and Alcorn with a part of their commands, making his available force 73 men, rank and file.
    "Alcorn, with 38 men, took the trail of the Indians up Applegate Creek, while Bruce with O'Neil and the remainder marched up Williams Creek. Scouting continued for five days, when Bruce fell in with two Indian spies, running them to camp, a distance of 12 miles. Sending an express to hasten forward O'Neil, the major dismounted his men, 21 in all, and stationing Alcorn with 11 men on the left of the canyon in which the enemy was camped, himself occupied the right with only 9 men.
    "It was discovered that the Indians were 60 or 70 strong. Firing became general, and both sides sustained losses. Wiley Cash was killed in this preliminary engagement, and Daniel Richardson severely wounded. Soon after these casualties, eight men were cut off from the little force, when Bruce collected the 10 left him and charged the Indians, driving them out of the canyon, relieving the men and securing a favorable position for himself, though surrounded and cut off from his horses. Night coming on, he was compelled to retreat towards these, but found that half of them had been driven off before the arrival of Capt. O'Neil, who was on the ground with the news that he had sent Lieut. Armstrong an hour before dark with 20 men to engage the enemy on the right, while with 20 men he had flanked their left and fought them until dark.
    "The night being very dark and cold, the whole force present withdrew to camp five miles distant when it was discovered that Lieut. Armstrong had not returned. Instead, he remained on the ground and renewed the attack at daylight next morning, the Indians giving way and retreating soon after daybreak. It was found they had burned their dead in the night, making it impossible to determine their loss."
At Steamboat
    The first battle here mentioned was fought where Steamboat City was afterwards located. Further particulars of that battle, as gleaned from Mr. Miller, follow:
    "The mule that was transporting the ammunition for the howitzer rolled down the mountain into the Applegate. The soldiers improvised enough, however, to startle the savages from their lair. The Indians could stand off the whites pretty well so long as rifles alone were used but when the soldiers got to 'shooting wagons at them,' as the Indians called it, demoralization was apt to set in.
    "One of the soldiers put his hat on the ramrod and set it out for the Indians to shoot at. He thoughtlessly stuck his head around the tree to get a shot himself, when an Indian plugged him through the head.
    "It was in this battle that Jacob Spores, son of old man Spores of Lane County, was mortally wounded. He was transferred back to Jacksonville, where he lingered for several days before he died. It was from Jacksonville that the troops started to make the fight on upper Applegate.
    "Some may have gone from Sterling, but Jacksonville was military headquarters.
Martin Angel Slain
    "After the troops left, Martin Angel and another man concluded they would follow and see the fun. They got a little ways down Poorman's Creek when they were fired on by some Indian scouts and Martin Angel ceased his troubling of Indians or anyone else, and the Indian boy he insisted on hanging was avenged."
    We will now let Mr. Olney occupy the center of the stage while he tells what he knew of Indian hostilities in 1856. He does not sign his initials and always speaks of himself in the third person, but evidently he was an interested participator in some of the events he so graphically chronicles.
    "Early in March 1856, an election of regimental officers of the 2nd Regiment Oregon Mountain Volunteers was held at all the company camps, which resulted in the election of John Kelsay as colonel, W.W. Chapman as lieutenant-colonel, Bruce and Latshaw as majors. Gen. Lamerick then issued orders to the Southern Battalion under Bruce to rendezvous at and in the near vicinity of Vannoy's Ferry on Rogue River; the Northern Battalion under Latshaw to establish camp at Grave Creek and vicinity, preparatory to a march down Rogue River to the Big Meadows, where it was believed the Indians were encamped, waiting an attack by the volunteers.
    "Major Bruce's battalion was scattered around Vannoy's Ferry, up and down Rogue River five or six miles, and one company was encamped at the foot of Eight Dollar Mountain, 15 miles from the ferry. Each company remained inactive in camp until the memorable 23rd of March 1856.
    "The Northern Battalion remained encamped in various places in the Umpqua Valley until early in the following April, when they began their march by way of Grave Creek to the Big Meadows, under the immediate command of John Kelsay.
Scouting Parties Sent
    "Scouting parties were sent out from time to time by each company to ascertain if any Indians were in its vicinity; occasionally a few signs would be discovered, but in all but one instance the signs were not deemed sufficiently encouraging for the volunteers to pursue. In the one instance mentioned above, Capt. Mike Bushey, a noted scout and captain of one of the companies encamped at Grave Creek, had been for several days scouting down the Illinois River with a part of his command and had succeeded in discovering, in his view, sufficient evidence of the near proximity of Indians to warrant general alarm.
    "Accordingly he dispatched a messenger with the important tidings to Major Bruce, at Vannoy's Ferry, who immediately issued orders to several companies to march without a moment's delay to Grave Creek, from whence an expedition would start the next day to attack the Indians.
    "Marching all night, the companies reported to Major Bruce the next morning at Grave Creek. In the meantime Capt. Bushey had returned to the locality where he had at first discovered the hostile signs. On his return to Grave Creek he informed the Major that the Indians had retreated down toward the Big Meadows, and that he did not think it advisable to pursue them, consequently the companies returned to their respective camps.
    "All now was quiet in the Umpqua, Rogue River and Illinois valleys until about 2 o'clock on the morning of the 24th of March 1856 a messenger arrived at Vannoy's Ferry with the word that the Indians had ambushed a small party of travelers on Slate Creek and had killed two of the party--Wright, a partner in Vannoy's Ferry, and Olney, a member of Capt. O'Neill's company, which was encamped at the foot of Eight Dollar Mountain--that after killing the two men and dispersing the remainder of the travelers they had pushed on toward Hay's ranch.
Hay's Ranch Attacked
    "Just before they reached the ranch they were met by five of Olney's messengers, who had come out to rescue his dead body, and the Indians had killed one of them, John Davis, and forced the others to retreat back to the ranch; that the Indians had then pushed on and surrounded the ranch, and that when they (the messengers) left, the firing was brisk and determined on both sides. Orders were at once sent to all the companies belonging to the Second Battalion to repair immediately to Hay's ranch, and at about 10 o'clock the same day the companies began to assemble at Vannoy's Ferry, for a start to the scene of the conflict.
    "It now becomes necessary to change the scene. To better understand what follows and to have a clear view of the situation, we will return to the morning of the 23rd of March. On that morning Olney, a member of Company E which camped at Eight Dollar Mountain, and who had been on a special mission to the camp of Capt. Abel George, five miles below Vannoy's, was on his return to camp.
Asks Company
    "Being of a cautious temperament, he concluded to go by headquarters, which was a little off the most direct trail, and see if he could procure company, as it was considered dangerous to travel along Slate Creek, up which the trail wound its crooked way to Hay's ranch. In answer to his inquiries, if anyone was intending to go down from there to Hay's, he was informed that a party of five persons had but a short half hour before started to the ranch, and if he would move briskly along he would be likely to soon overtake them.
    "This was good news, and off he went at a smart pace to overtake the party. It was a long chase but he was soon rewarded by a sight of the men slowly making the ascent of the hill, up which the trail ran before it reached the open flat just below the forks of the creek. The pattering of his horse's feet arrested the progress of the party and caused them to stop and await his approach, for at that time all rapid riding seemed to savor of something unusual. The party was composed of Wright, Willis Hay, Cox, Blake and Thompson. As Olney rode up to within 30 paces of the party he was saluted with: 'Hello. Any news? Have you seen any Indians? Where have you come from this morning?' To all of which he answered, 'No, wanted to overtake you, afraid to go through alone, horse nearly done for.'
    "'Come along then, we've got one more gun and revolver in the party; think we will have some fun before we reach the ranch; Willis says he thinks he smells Ind--!'
    "Bang! Bang! Bang! Followed instantly by a heavy volley of rifle shot on the left flank, front and rear, brush and trees filled with smoke and Indian yells, horses plunge and snort; but in a few seconds the party regained their self-command; the Indians showed themselves--half a dozen, 10, 50, 100--no use to show fight, it was better to run, and run they did; horses and men all willing.
Whites Run
    "So off they turned to the right, through the woods, scampered for dear life, for sure enough life was at stake, and they were making good time, all of them but Olney, whose horse would only plunge up and down, making no headway, and he saw the only course to save his life, and that was not a certainty, nor did it seem even to approach a possibility, yet it was the only chance.
    "It was to dismount and try his own legs, for had he not read how Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett and a host of other renowned Indian fighters had out-run, out-shot, out-witted smarter Indians that those after him. So dropping the bridle on his horse's neck he sprang to the ground, and in so doing he saw his horse's flank covered with blood, blood oozing from several holes in his side. All was taken in at a glance, and with gun in hand he started to run, but on each foot was strapped a large, heavy Mexican spur.
    "He could make no headway with such gear on his heels, they must come off; but it would not do to stop, sit down and calmly displace them; he had not nerve enough for that. But he took a zigzag course and would throw his right heel in front of his left toe and give a pull as he jumped, for he must keep his body in motion so that the Indians could not draw a bead on him, and he must keep going ahead, and, if possible, increase the distance between himself and his pursuers."
    "The right spur, boot and all, came easily off, and when he put his left spur under his right toe and pulled, the rowels of the spur cut through his stocking, penetrated the flesh, and caused him to stumble and fall. (The reader must bear in mind that all that has been described did not occupy more than a few seconds, and that the others of the party were not more than 50 yards distant, and the Indians only just starting from their hiding places.)
    "At the same moment Olney sprang to his feet, freed from his boot and spur, which he had kicked off while down.
    "Wright, the big-hearted and brave man, called out to the others: 'Boys, it won't do to leave that man; come, let's stay with him,' at the same time turning his mule toward the fleeing man, and facing the swarming, yelling savages.
    "'Let me take hold of your horse's tail and I can get away,' called out Olney, and Willie Hay, only 14 years of age, turned back with Wright, and they both rode toward him, right into the blaze and smoke of the hostile guns. As they met Olney, Wright turned his mule sidewise and said in a husky voice, 'Jump on,' and on he jumped behind the noble Wright.
    "Willie turned and away they went, the Indians firing as rapidly as possible. Still neither of the three men was touched, but bullets tore up the ground and knocked bark from the trees into the faces of the fleeing men. Willie Hay and the others were soon out of sight, leaving Wright and Olney alone.
    "While crossing a shallow gulch a bullet pierced the flank of the mule, causing it to drop its hind parts on the ground, which threw Olney over backward on his head and shoulders. The mule immediately righted itself, with Wright still in the saddle. Olney jumped to his feet instantly, and Wright asked him if he was wounded, to which he replied that if he was wounded at all it was in his shoulder, as he felt more pain there than at any other part of his body.
    "Wright seemed to have no care for himself, but thought how he could save his companion, and urged him to try to mount the mule again, seeming to think that was the only chance. Olney refused and told Wright to go on and leave him to his fate.
    "The noble man saw he had done all he could to save his companion, who was to him a total stranger until only a few minutes before, and with a sorrowful 'Oh,' he dashed down the gulch as fast as the wounded mule could go and left Olney to his apparent certain death.
    "The Indians were by this time close up to them and seemed by their exulting yells to feel certain of both of their intended victims. Olney ran over ridge and gulch, aiming to get into the brushy bottom of the creek, about a quarter of a mile above the forks. Many a time he thought to get behind a tree and stand his ground, if only for a short time, for he felt that death was certain.
    "The Indians seemed to know his thought, for every time he made for a tree the savages fired furiously at it, thinking that when he passed behind it some one of the many bullets would certainly hit him, while he, seeing their object, gave up the idea, but with no intent to fire, only intending to make them take to trees for shelter, which they did in every instance, thus giving, as he thought, a little advantage of them in the race."
    "But this kind of running would not do, for back behind him a few hundred yards he saw a squad of mounted Indians coming at full speed towards him. He had distanced the footmen, but he had no hopes of escaping from those who were mounted. Wright was out of sight. He was all alone save his pursuers. Suddenly stopping, he took deliberate aim and fired, with a splendid result; the savage fell sprawling on the ground.
    "But there could be no more loading and firing, and the gun was a burden, besides, he expected to fall any moment, and then the Indians would get a splendid gun. So cocking the gun, he struck it against a tree as he ran, and broke the lock, and then dropped it on the ground; his bullets he scattered broadcast; his box of caps were cast into a pool of water in the bed of the gulch.
Wright Dies in Saddle
    "As he descended into the creek flat, he came near Wright, who was still in his saddle, but was holding on to the pommel apparently to steady himself and seemed to sway from side to side. To Olney's inquiry if he was wounded, he answered with a groan. His gun, a double-barreled shotgun, was gone; the mule was still running, but slowly, no faster at least than Olney was, so they ran side by side up the creek bottom for nearly a quarter of a mile, the mounted Indians slowly gaining on them.
    "The Indians on foot were left far behind, and seemed to have given up the race, but still they sent their bullets after the fleeing men, in showers; the deathly ping, ping, zip, of the bullets gave a continuous and urgent stimulus to the pursued.
    "Across the creek bottom ran a line of thick stunted crabapple and chaparral. As they neared it Wright called out to his companion, as if to give him a fresh stimulus, 'Run now!' At the sound of his voice--for it was the first time he had spoken since the first separation--Olney looked towards him only to see him fall from his saddle to the ground with a dull thud and gurgle.
    "Life had fled, and the noble Wright lay on his back, his limbs quivering in the last agonies, while the Indians yelled louder and more hideously than before. Olney was alone now in the flesh, but still the spirit of his murdered companion hovered around him and completed in the invisible what was begun in the visible body.
    "Diving into the thick brush, he made his way as fast as possible up the dry creek for a quarter of mile and then, exhausted, almost at death's door, with a bullet through one foot, a sharp dry stick run into the flesh between the toes of the other, the bottoms of both frightfully lacerated by the sharp stones over which he had been running, he cast himself under a pile of driftwood and listened, with no hope of escape, to the approaching footsteps of his savage pursuers.
    "Let us now go up to the top of that low, sparsely timbered hill on the left, near the trail and we shall soon see five men of Company E, Olney's messmates--John Davis, Shellback Smith, John Gould, Charley Abrams and J. Sargent, who had been stopping at Hay's ranch as a guard, and who had been told by Willie Hay and the others who had succeeding in reaching the ranch that Wright and Olney were killed--come running up the hill as fast as their horses could be made to go, in the direction of Slate Creek.
    "They have come to recover the bodies of their murdered messmates. They rise the hill and descend at a rapid pace the steep ridge down which the trail ran towards the forks of the creek. Halfway down, and they are saluted by a hundred rifle shots from front and both flanks, accompanied by the too-well-known Indian yell. 'We're in for it now boys,' shouted John Davis, the leader of the party, 'jump off and take a tree and we will give them a fight if they are on it.'
    "Dismounting and aiming their horses to the brush, with the bullets and yells growing thicker and louder, the brave little party boldly went into the fight. Taking each a tree, they loaded and fired with good effect, as was plainly indicated next day when the battle ground was visited. Louder and fiercer grew the uproar; the Indians, numbering near 200, soon gained the rear of the little party, and poured upon them a hail of rifle and pistol shots.
    "'We must get out of this,' shouted Gould. 'They've got us in a tight place, come on.'
    "He ran to his horse, and all followed but Davis, who, seeing a number of Indians running towards them, shouted to his companions, 'Hurry up, boys, and mount. I'll keep those devils away until you are ready to start. Charley, untie my horse and hold him until I come, and, almost in the same breath, he added, 'Go ahead boys, I'm shot right through the tum-tum ["chest," "heart"].'
Davis Shot
    "As Davis spoke he dropped his gun from his hands and fell forward upon his face. Shellback Smith and Charley Abrams ran to him, but he was fast stiffening in death, and they left him lying on his face, for they could do him no good. And to take away his dead body was not possible, for the Indians were pressing around them, and retreat would soon be impossible.
    "As it was it was extremely difficult. They were on a narrow ridge which was quite steep on both sides, and as they dismounted their horses, that of Charley Abrams was shot through the body and rolled down the steep side of the ridge, rider and all, some 20 yards, until it struck the bottom of the gulch.
    "Luckily Abrams was on top and easily extricated himself. The animal regained his feet and Abrams again mounted him and turned his head up the hill to regain his companions, who had again dismounted and were bravely fighting back the Indians until they could ascertain the result of Abrams' tumble down the hill.
    "In the sudden change of affairs, Gould, who had secured Davis' horse, let him go so that he would better be able to take care of his own and use his gun in the fight. John Sargent had Davis' gun, and in the retreat carried it safely to the ranch. As soon as Gould loosened his hold on the bridle, Davis' horse ran wildly down the hill into the midst of the Indians."
    "Abrams had no sooner mounted his horse than it fell again, riddled with bullets. Abrams escaped unhurt and clambered wildly up the hill, where his companions awaited him, urging him to renewed exertions by repeated calls of 'hurry up, Charles, they're all around us,' and hurry up he did.
    "His escape was seemingly miraculous, but the most miraculous of all was, a large brown mule, saddled and bridled, all ready to be mounted, came running up the road towards the little party from the direction of the Indians, and reached them at precisely the same moment as Abrams did.
    "He ran gently towards the mule calling coaxingly, 'whoa! whoa!' which the mule well understood and stopped till Abrams had secured it and mounted it. Then away all scampered through a line of smoke and fire on each flank and forced their way through the savages who had formed a line in front. Holding their guns in the bridle hand, with revolver in the right, discharging rapid shots at the Indians, they streaked it up the hill and down the trail to the ranch, closely followed by the yelling and disappointed Indians, who were but a few rods in their rear, when they reached the gates of the palisades surrounding the ranch.
Call for Help Sent to Troops
    "When  Willie Hay and his companions made their appearance at the ranch with the news of the Indian attack upon them and the killing of Wright and Olney, a courier was at once sent with the intelligence to Capt. O'Neil's camp at the foot of Eight Dollar Mountain. As soon as the news was received, O'Neil ordered the horses and pack mules to be immediately brought up and saddled and packed, and at once set out for the ranch, endeavoring to reach it before the Indians did.
    "But in this he failed, as I shall now relate. Calling the roll, he found he had but 50 men fit for duty, and with a pack train of 15 heavily laden mules, he must spare three or four men for the special duty of attending to the packs. Forming a vanguard of 15 men, he sent them forward under the command of Lieut. Armstrong. The mules followed, and the rear was brought up by the remainder of the company under his immediate command.
     "Away they went at a sharp trot until they had crossed Deer Creek and had entered the heavy timber within two miles of the ranch, when they overtook a pack train, passing which with some difficulty they kept on their way, with the loss of two or three mules which had run into the other train and could not be easily extricated, so were allowed to remain and come along with the train, which was put to its utmost speed when the packers were told that the Indians were ahead.
    "On they go through the heavy pine woods, the bell on the bell mare tinkling out hasty music to the loaded train mules behind, while the 'hup-pah mulah' 'Caramba' and the everlasting string of Mexican epithets calculated to urge forward a train were being bellowed and hissed in a hasty and excited way. They have reached within half a mile of the ranch, and they hear an occasional rifle shot.
Pack Trains Slow
    "Soon comes a crash of reports, succeeded by the usual rattling reverberations through the timber of each separate but continuous report and the near yells of Indians. On they go, the vanguard, at a gallop, pack mules ditto; they are too slow. 'Forward faster.' Another train in the road--J. Lowery and Billy Sutherland's train--Billy on the bell mare. Jimmy driving up the train; trains at this time on the keen jump. 'Damn the train,' says the Captain, but it doesn't make matters any better.
    "The train behind is making good time, and its bell mare has overtaken the rear guard, so there they are, two pack trains and a company of volunteers surging together along the road through the woods towards the ranch. Volunteers have left their pack mules behind and gone pell mell through the line of Indians who have encircled the ranch and are firing from behind every tree and bunch of brush into the very face of the men. Each man with revolver in hand yelled defiance and sent shot after shot at the Indians, who in a few minutes turned their attention to the pack trains.
    "When the Captain gave the order to his men to leave the pack mules and make the best time they could towards the ranch, some of the men so far disobeyed him as to continue to harry forward some of the mules that were loaded with their own individual effects and succeeded, by loud yelling and rough whipping, in driving them in the palisades surrounding the ranch; while the remainder of the mules stampeded helter skelter in all directions through the woods.
     "As soon as the Indians saw the volunteers abandon their mules and flee towards the ranch, they left their coverts and made a rush towards Lowery and Southerland's train, firing rapidly at men and mules alike. Southerland, being in advance on the bell mare, increased his speed by a vigorous application of whip and spur, and made a bee line for the ranch, calling lustily to his partner: 'Let the mules go to--, Jimmy, and come along, they're bound to get them anyhow, save your scalp,' and with a 'go it old hoss,' and an additional slap with his tapajo, away he went closely followed by a part of the mules, while the others went scudding through the woods in all directions, except towards the ranch. Jimmy, seeing that he could not reach the friendly protection of the house, turned his mule off to the left and was soon out of sight and immediate danger.
    "On came the other train at full speed, some of the mules with packs askew, some with packs turned, drivers yelling, swearing and whipping; the bell on the bell mare jingling and clattering; Indians firing and yelling and all in a wild stampede.
    "Such an uproar, such excitement, such reckless riding, will never be seen again on that road between Hay's and Deer Creek. The packers scattered and rode towards the ranch, each on his own hook; over logs, through brush and mire and smoke and whistling bullets, now mixed up in a jam of crazy mules, again almost unseated by a crashing impetus of one that is running across cuts and strikes the fugitive horse amidships.
    "At last all have reached the palisades. Leaping from their foaming horses, and setting them adrift, they dart through the gate that has been opened for their reception and are once more in safety.
    "Safe indeed are they, but their horses, their friendly, noble preservers, are huddling and jamming one another outside the gate whinnying as if calling their faithless riders to open the gate and take them in, for the Indians were sending showers of bullets into the surging mass of horses and mules and dropping them one by one. The volunteers had taken as many of their riding horses into the stockade as possible, for the enclosure was small and many were necessarily left outside.
    "All are now inside the enclosure and are returning the enemy's fire with vehemence and successfully beating back the swarming savages who had twice rushed forward in a solid circle around the house with the apparent intention of taking it by storm, but in each attempt met with such vigorous resistance that they at last gave up the design of assaulting it, and retired to a distance of 200 yards and settled down to a steady exchange of shots and yells with its defenders.
    "Where is Alex Caldwell; has anyone seen him inside: He was with us just as we crossed the going the round when, 'What is that lying yonder partially concealed by a log?'
    "'See, he raises his head and looks this way as though asking for help.'
    "'See those two Indians running down towards him, they are going to finish him, poor fellow.'
    "Such were the various remarks of the men as they stood, their wounded companion lying in the road, silently appealing for assistance.
    "'He must be brought in. Who are the brave men that will go?' said the Captain. He was answered instantly by a dozen or more of men, for they were more than willing to go upon the desperate undertaking. Desperate it was; they felt that they were cowards to let their comrade lie so exposed to death without making an effort for his rescue.
    "'Remember boys,' continued the Captain, 'that I do not order you to go, but I want volunteers to go with me, for Alex shall not lie there alive five minutes longer, as sure as my name is Hugh O'Neil.' 'I'll go for one,' said John Gould, stepping forward; 'and so will I' was repeated by many more, and John Macklin, Samuel Cowels and John Sargent stepped out from the crowd first and were, of course, the ones to go upon the errand.
    "The four brave men then stripped off their clothing, save shirt and pants. Hay's boys brought out moccasins for their feet; and forming in line, about four feet apart, they stood before the gate, and when it was opened for them, they darted out and ran at their utmost speed--keeping in line and about four feet apart--towards their wounded comrade, who, seeing them coming attempted to rise, but fell back exhausted from the shock of his wound.
    "The Indians saw the brave men leave the gate and immediately divined their object. Rushing out from their coverts, firing and yelling, against the little squad of heroes, intending to capture them, and would, no doubt, have succeeded, had not the men inside rushed out to the assistance of their companions.
    "Now all is in a terrific uproar outside; from a siege it has turned to a battle. The Indians took to shelter and the volunteers fired from behind logs, stumps, horses and mules that were dead or alive. Some of the combatants on both sides took the open field and fired in true military style. During the melee, the four men ran up to Caldwell, and, taking him up in their arms--two under his shoulders and two under his thighs--they carried him safely inside the stockade, where they were received amid demonstrations of gratitude and praise by all and especially by the wounded man.
    "Unable to speak, for he was shot through the throat and lungs, he looked his gratitude. As soon as the wounded man was carried inside the Indians began to withdraw to a safer distance, for the volunteers had killed and wounded a large number of them, without receiving any other damage than a few slight flesh wounds. The volunteers retired inside the stockade and all then settled down to its former state of siege, with the exchange of shots and yells.
    "Mrs. Hay, well advanced in years, but still spry and courageous, urged them on, patting them familiarly on the back and saying, 'Give it to them, boys. That's the way to fetch them,' as she would see an Indian fall, and carrying bread and coffee to each. Instead of being a burden to the men she proved to be a blessing, for many of the boys said if it had not been for 'Mammy Hay' their courage would, in some stages of the fight, have slipped out at the heels of their boots.
     "Not only 'Mammy Hay' but her daughter, likewise, was an active assistant during the whole time. Elizabeth Hay, or 'Big Sis,' as she was commonly known during that time of slack politeness and rough manners, was going around among the men chatting pleasantly with them and telling them that she knew every man was a brave, that if she only had a half-dozen of such fellows she could whip the whole of the Indians.
    "No messengers had yet been sent out to give notice of the attack. It would have been certain death to have tried to leave the ranch in daylight, and the captain had prudently waited until night had settled down, so that under cover of the darkness the couriers would have a better chance to get safely through the line of Indians.
    "Darkness was fast settling down, and the landscape was becoming more obscure as the minutes passed, but yet the battle raged as loud and fierce as ever. Indians could be dimly seen as they ran from tree to tree, and occasionally a sprightly young buck would stop in some open space that could be seen from the house and go through with some of his distortions and utter peculiar yells from his (so it sounded) tin-lined throat, thus drawing upon himself the fire of all the besieged who were on his side of the circle.
    "Thus the time passed until objects could no longer be distinguished outside the stockade. Then a call was made for two men to run the gantlet and take the news to Vannoy's Ferry. Two were soon selected and, mounted upon the swiftest and best-bottomed horses, were placed in front of the gate, one six paces behind the other, each man grasping a freshly capped revolver in his right hand; thus they stood when the order was given to open the gate. As the gate swung open the plucky riders dashed out at full speed, and away they went, faster, faster, faster, still.
    "What an uproar--the Indians have scented the game and send a hurried line of fire after the rapidly retreating horsemen. The boys rush out and advance on the Indians, bantering them to come and take the ranch. 'Plenty of whiskey and tobacco, come and get it, you greasy cowards,' thinking to draw the attention of the Indians from the pursuit. The Indians replied in equally bantering terms. 'Miserable Boston man afraid to fight. Why did you run so far today, we have got your mules and goods. Going to live high for a long time.'
    "And thus the night was passing away, when suddenly the Indians ceased firing and all became silent, for the boys had been guided for their firing by the flash of the Indians' guns, and as soon as the Indians ceased the boys ceased also.
    "Time passed on, 10 minutes, 20, half an hour, and still no hostile sounds. Have the red devils abandoned the siege? Another half hour has passed, and the suspense must be relieved, so volunteers are called for to go out and endeavor to fathom the mystery; anything will be better than this ominous silence.
    "Carefully the gate is opened and a half dozen men step out into the outer darkness, soon followed by as many more. Cautiously and slowly they file around the stockade, intending to go and examine the old stable and other outhouses standing about 60 yards from the house, which the Indians had occupied as soon as it had become dark, and from which they had since been firing some damaging shots into the ranch.
    "They had advanced about halfway to the outhouses when one of the party proposed that two of them go in advance to the buildings and prospect them for the enemy, and if none could be found then all would go beyond to where there was a brush fence, which had been used by the Indians as a breastwork. If no Indians were to be found there, then they had undoubtedly raised the siege, and the party could return to the house with the good news. Dick, a very quiet but attentive Irishman, and another of the party volunteered to go on the forlorn hope.
    "The two had advanced to within about 10 paces of the old stable when Dick, who was in the lead, said softly 'whist, pard, the divil take me if I don't belave I schmell 'em.' They had both stopped and were listening attentively when Dick continued, 'And what is that now, a-leaning up agin the house?' 'That is a stump. You're afraid, Dick,' replied his companion, 'let me go ahead,' and made a step forward when Dick pulled him back with the remark, 'Don't now, be easy, there is another stump, for yez. Begorra, pard, just hold me hat, and I'll give them two divilish shtumps a blizzard wid my old soger (musketoon).'
    "His companion looked and sure enough there were two now, where there was but one before. Believing them to be Indians who were only waiting for a good chance to fire at them, he told Dick to blaze away, while he would watch and see what the result might be. Dick put the lock of his musket under his coat to deaden the click, and, cocking it, he raised it to his shoulder and fired.
    "The whole scene was lighted up by the blaze of the musketoon. Dick went over backwards like a wheel rocket, emitting from his throat a noise between a screech and a howl, while a terrific fire was poured into them from the old stable and from each flank, accompanied by yells no less horrible than the one given by Dick. Now was heard rapid tramping and cracking of dry twigs, and all seemed to be rushing toward the old stable, which for the once was to be made the center of the conflict.
    "Dick jumped to his feet yelling like a madman, "Come on, boys; Divil of a shtable shall they have to shoot from. Come on and we'll bate 'em out in a sicond."  The men who were behind waiting for developments were by this time up to Dick and his companion and were all yelling and firing away like wild men and rushed headlong for the stable, where there seemed to be the most Indians.
Hand-to-Hand
    "A line of fire now encircled the ranch; the battle was begun again in deadly earnest; the besieged are keeping up a continued blaze of light from every crack and porthole in the palisades; while at the stable there seems to be a struggle hand to hand.
    "Now the boys have the advantage and push the savages back, then they fall back towards the house and the Indians are masters, until one of the men called out: 'Boys we must take the stable, and keep it, and all who are not cowards come on.' And again they made a rush for the stable.
    "Pistol in hand, they rushed along keeping up an incessant pop-pop-pop, and their own peculiar yell, which was promptly and sharply answered by the hoarse guttural yells of the Indians and the clear crack of their rifles.
    "Now the struggle is harder than ever; the Indians have the advantage, for they are inside behind the logs, and do not intend to yield. The boys crowd them away from the end of the stable and from behind some stumps. Both parties put their guns between the logs and fire into each other's faces. A reinforcement comes to both sides and they meet before the door--the blaze of their guns gives sufficient light to see each other's position, and at last, the boys give an exultant yell, and are masters of the field, for the Indians are scampering away and have ceased to fire.
    "When the uproar ceased at the stable the boys became aware that a fierce encounter was in progress on the opposite side of the ranch, and soon they heard a call from the house, 'Come here boys, they are trying to get in on this side. Hurry along for they are making it hot for us.'
    "Off they go to the house to help drive back the horde of Indians who had concentrated there while the garrison was weak to try and gain an entrance while the fight was going on at the stable.
    "In front of the gate and on the south side were a number of large pine logs behind which the Indians had taken shelter while trying to fight away the boys from the palisades, before making their anticipated rush into the stockade.
    "As the men came running at full speed to the gate, they were met in front by a fierce fusillade from behind the logs. But it did not last long--the Indians ran, after delivering their fire, to the south side of the stockade, while the men ran inside. After a short time the Indians retreated to a greater distance and settled down to the monotonous firing and yelling.
Fight Lulls While Sides Eat
     "It was now about one o'clock and the boys were wolfishly hungry, so Mrs. Hay and her daughter Elizabeth with help from some of the boys began to prepare them some food. In a short time the stove and fireplace were in full blast, loaded with kettles and coffee pots, frying pans and Dutch ovens, and the savory odor of frying bacon and beefsteak mingled with the sulphureous smoke of burnt powder was wafted upon the night air--an incongruous perfume for the savage warriors outside, which seemingly cooled them off, for in a short time they built a large fire out in the woods a safe distance from the house and set their cooks to preparing a meal for themselves.
    "The fury of the conflict was perceptibly abated while these culinary preparations were in progress on both sides and while the contending warriors were satisfying their ravenous appetites. When the meal was ready and set out upon some boards, the men went to work by relays, some eating, some yelling at the Indians, who seemed to be doing the very same thing themselves.
    "When at last all were satisfied war broke out in stout earnest and continued after the same old plan, shooting and yelling, until one o'clock, when the fire of the Indians began to slacken, and at last was only maintained by an occasional shot, and then after a short time it ceased entirely.
    "Let us now take the track of Jimmy Lowery, who was forced to leave his train and take to flight. When his partner, Billy Southerland, called to him to 'Come on and let the mules go to--,' Jimmy struck his spurs deep into his mule and with vigorous strokes of his tapajo, forced the animal into a run. Bearing off to the left, he endeavored to pass the train and get to the ranch, but he had only started when a gang of yelling Indians pushed in ahead of him and compelled a rapid light towards the mountains on the left, followed for some distance by the speed-increasing zip, zip, zip, ping, ping, sput of the bullets, as he lashed through the brush towards a safer place.
Indians Leave In Dark
     "As stated before, the Indians ceased firing about 1 o'clock and retired from the attack and took up their line of march for some other field in which to operate, but it was not till the morning light had become sufficiently clear to distinguish objects far out in the woods that the besieged became satisfied that the Indians had actually departed.
    "They then came out and began an inspection of the ground surrounding the house. Here, one declared he saw an Indian fall, there another, another had shot an Indian who was just poking his head up above the log, when he gave him a deadly shot. Behind trees, logs, stumps and brush blood was found, plainly indicating that the Indians had suffered.
    "And at the stable many marks were found showing that the Indians had suffered more than the boys, who, with the exception of some slight bruises, had escaped unhurt.
    "As soon as breakfast had been served a strong guard had been sent out to recover the lost horses and pack mules, which were scattered for a mile around. A detachment under command of Capt. O'Neil was soon in readiness to go and care for the bodies of Davis and Wright, and when Olney's feet had been dressed by Mrs. Hay, who was kind and attentive to all, he mounted a horse and accompanied the command to point out the place where Wright had been killed.
Caldwell Dies
    "They were delayed a short time to ascertain the final result of Alex Caldwell's wound. He was carefully attended to by Mrs. Hay and her daughter, but his would proved fatal; he died about eight o'clock. He left a wife and one child in Franklin County, Mo. His body was buried near the house.
    "The detachment was soon on the march, where we will leave them for a short time, and follow the course of the two messengers, who started out from the ranch to take the news of the attack to headquarters. I am sorry that I cannot give their names, as they were heroes, in a military sense, and in general men who risk their lives for the benefit of others are not bad men.
    "As the two men sallied forth, the Indians, without doubt, divined their mission and determined, if possible, to prevent them executing it. The men took the road leading to Vannoy's, intending to ride down all opposition and make their way through the lines of Indians, thinking that by keeping the road they could get there sooner than by any other way.
    "But the savages ran from all points to frustrate them, and poured in such a hot fire that the men were compelled to change their course, so they ran down the creek a short distance, with a line of fire behind and in front of them, and on their left flank, over logs and stumps, through brush and scattering timber, expecting at every moment to be unhorsed, if not shot dead by the many and rapidly increasing bullets.
    "With set teeth, and every nerve its fullest tension, they scud along at a speed that would, even in daylight, have been imprudent, but cut loose from all hopes of succor, depending on their knowledge of the route and the good bottom and speed of their horses, and filled with that daredevil and almost unconscious desperation which all feel in time of extreme peril, they knew that it was too late to recede, if they had chosen, and the only course was, to use a vulgar but very applicable expression, 'to let 'er rip', and so they did.
    "Off goes a hat--no time to pick it up. A bullet has cut the bridle rein of the hindmost man--can't help it now, the horse will follow the others. 'Hurrah!' and they yell defiance, with a cold creeping of flesh along the backbone. Keeping down the creek half a mile or so, they turn to the left and make their way with less speed towards Deer Creek. Coming out into an open space they stop for repairs.
    "Mending the bridle rein and readjusting their cinches, they once more set out on the way, and at about 2 o'clock in the morning they made their appearance at Vannoy's.
    "Orders were at once sent off by Major Bruce, who was in command at that place, to all the companies near by to repair immediately to headquarters, and from thence to Hay's. A courier was dispatched to Jacksonville, also to Grave Creek where some of the volunteer companies were encamped, with orders to hurry to the scene of conflict.
    "By sunrise several companies reported to Major Bruce, who at once began his march to Hay's, leaving orders for the other companies to come on in haste. This was the morning of the 14th of March.
    "We now return to Capt. O'Neil, who, with a detachment, started towards Vannoy's Ferry on the Slate Creek Road to pick up the bodies of Davis and Wright. Proceeding to the spot where the body of Davis lay they found it at the roots of a large pine tree, entirely nude, for the Indians had appropriated the clothing.
    "A bullet had sure enough penetrated the heart. The head was scalped down to the ears and then literally sawed from the body; the knees and elbows were unjointed, that is, cut off at the joints and hung together only by a small strip of flesh which had been left for that purpose; deep ugly gashes were cut lengthwise in the thighs and fleshy parts of the arms, while knives had been plunged into various parts of the body--a ghastly sight to look upon.
    "Wrapping the body in a blanket, it was securely lashed on a pack mule, and on the party went to find the body of Wright. Half a mile above the forks of the creek, near the dense chaparral which crossed the narrow bottom of the creek, lay the body, stripped, but not mutilated, only so far as being scalped and a knife gash through the heart. One thigh bone had been broken by a bullet, while a bullet had hit the back of the neck and came out at the throat, breaking the neck bone and cutting the windpipe in two.
    "The body was covered with a blanket and packed similarly to Davis' body, and the command was again on the march to Vannoy's. Soon they met company after company on their way to Hay's Ranch. Each company must be told the particulars of the fight and it took time to do it, so they did not arrive at Vannoy's until nightfall.
    "Graves were soon dug and the bodies were buried side by side with military honors. The company secured quarters for the night and by daylight of the morning of the 25th they were on their return to Hay's. When about halfway they were met by four men at full speed.
    "'Hurry along, Captain,' they exclaimed, as soon as they came within speaking distance, 'more fighting for you. The Indians have taken Coyote Evans' train and killed one of the packers. Evans and Big Dave, themselves, barely escaped.'
    "On they go, and O'Neil quickens his pace. A few miles further another squad of fast riders come tearing down the hill. 'Hurry on faster, Captain, Bruce is anxious for your company to come up as soon as you can. A big fight is going on at Eight Dollar Mountain, right on your old camp ground.'
    "And they vanished down the hill while the company pushes its pace into a gallop. They raise the top of the hill a mile from Hay's and stop only a moment to 'cinch up' and then away down the hill at a headlong gait till they reached the ranch.
    "It was about 11 o'clock a.m. The men and horses were exhausted, and as there were at least 60 men loitering around the ranch seemingly in a somewhat demoralized state who ought to be in the fight, O'Neil determined to rest his men and horses before going to Eight Dollar Mountain.
    "On the morning of the 25th of March, as Coyote Evans' pack train, composed of about 30 mules loaded with merchandise for himself, was slowly ascending the trail leading from Reaves' ranch over a low ridge of the Eight Dollar Mountain, and then on towards Rogue River, they were startled by a solitary rifle shot from the direction of the mountain on their left.
    "The bell boy called back to Evans and Dave, who were driving the train, that he saw somebody up on the mountain and believed it to be Indians, but they paid no more attention to him than to tell him to go on as there were no Indians in the country. So on he went, but with many misgivings, as the air was solemn and dull as though death was lurking in it.
    "The tinkle, tinkle, tinkle of the bell sounded with apprehensive and warning tones; the mules even stopped their usual monotonous grunting and silently climbed the hill, as though fearful of arousing some undefined danger.
    "'I don't like the appearance of things, Dave,' said Evans, 'it's so still and awful. What did that shot mean anyway?'
    "'Didn't mean anything. Some of the volunteers are out hunting. There are no Indians around here, because they have all gone down to the Big Meadows, but--Good God, what is that? Indians as sure as you live.'
Indians Chase Packers
    "'That's so,' replied Evans, 'we must drive like H--l to get by them. Pedro, whip up and go by that crowd of Indians.' And he and Dave began to urge along the mules as fast as whip and Mexican oaths would do it, while down the hill on the left came a gang of yelling savages on the run. Away goes Pedro on the run, and the mules are getting a start too, while the two drivers are yelling and whipping them up.
    "Just ahead of Pedro is a thicket of scrubby white oak and chaparral, on the right, while on the left the little creek has cut away the bank until the trail is narrow, and still further to the left across the creek the country is open and slopes up to the foot of the mountain. The Indians coming down the hill have turned abruptly to the right, and are running down past the train on the left, as though intending to get to the rear.
    "They have not yet fired on the train--a strange proceeding for Indians to attack such a weak train in that way; they must be afraid, and Evans and Dave are encouraged. If the Indians should have confronted them, things would have looked a little more squally.
    "'Hurrah boys,' shouted Dave, 'we can save ourselves and the train yet,' and the two men renewed their flagellations and Mexican profanity. Pedro has reached the thicket and the mules are close up to him; some have even passed him and are scampering ahead, for they, as well as their drivers, know that legs only will count in the unequal game.
    "'Go ahead Pedro! What do you stop for? Go on you'--crack! crack! crack! and Pedro falls to trail through the Indians, as the ground.
    "From the thicket Indians dart out in crowds, mules wheel off to the left and fall headlong down the bank in wild confusion. Indians ahead, Indians behind, Indians all around, while yells and rifle shots drown the voices of the two men, who are still trying to urge forward the mules.
    "'It won't do, Dave, save yourself,' and Evans, who was in the rear, turned and went, as he afterwards expressed it, down 'as though the devil was after him with a pitch fork, tines foremost,' and did not stop till he had safely ensconced himself inside of Reeves' farm.
    "We must now divert our attention to Big Dave, whom Evans left in such a perilous situation when he dashed through the Indians and told Dave to save himself.
    "'Dave,' says Olney, 'thought the best plan for him was to jump his riding mule down the bank and take a tack to the left and try to get on the safe side of the Indians by making headway to Hay's. Turning his mule to the left, he tumbled down the bank like a stone running from a wall, and went off in beautiful style until his eyes (which by this time were the size of soup plates) espy a friendly face on an Indian body peering longingly at him from out of a cluster on his left.
    "'Hello Sam! Is that you? Glad to see you; you're a good fellow Sam. You don't want to kill me, do you?'
    "'Hello Dave! That you eh? Me no want to killee you. Me likee you! Injun there, no good. You hold on Dave, me come to you.' And the loving smile did not relax as he advanced towards his friend Dave, who childlike, had stopped and was waiting the approach of the good Indian.
    "Ah Dave, how little do you know the thoughts of that blandly smiling child of nature, 'whose untutored mind sees God in clouds and hears him in the wind.'  'Hold on Dave, me come.' He wants you to get off your mule, Dave, and sit quietly down on the ground and let him, with a flourish, lift your topknot, and he would say to you, still smiling blandly as you squirm under his tender caresses. 'Sit still Dave, me cut your throat too,' and suiting his actions to his tender words he'd split your wizzer as lovingly a he once ate your bread and sugar.
    "Dave begins to think is a quien sabe case, as the peculiar and funny glitter of Sam's eyes fall athwart his own optics, and jamming his bloody spurs into his mule's flanks he gathered headway for a fresh start towards a more friendly neighborhood, while Sam, believing that circumstances sometimes annul obligations, innocently changed his adopted program and said in an altered tone, while his fascinating smile fell down around his neck like a withered wreath.
    "'You s-- of a b----, I kill.'
    "But Dave had gone. The beautiful change was lost on him, but the words last spoken had the effect to cause him to jam the rowels a little deeper into the mule's flanks. He was making fine headway, but not fast enough to escape Sam's bullet which was sent after him as a parting gift. What is the matter, Dave? A bullet more or less which singes the cuticle of your side is nothing to speak of. Go on down the road now, the coast is clear.
    "On he went to Hay's and told the story of the attack to Lieut. Col. W. W. Chapman, who immediately sent Major Bruce to ascertain the position of the Indians and engage them.
    "The Major called out the companies and immediately began his march. A few men more anxious than the others galloped on ahead to have the first shot at the enemy, who were not seen until the venturesome men had begun to climb the sharp backbone of the ridge, when out from the brush on all sides a telling fire was directed at them that caused the men to hastily dismount and take to cover.
    "But Finly Collins, a fiery, hotheaded man, dashed at full speed up to the summit of the ridge, thereby drawing upon himself the fire of nearly the whole of the Indians, and the result was that he was completely riddled with bullets and fell in the road, while his horse ran madly over the ridge and away down over the uneven and stony ground, and was never seen again by anyone but the Indians.
    "John McCarty took cover in a small thicket from whence he did some execution. Being a good shot, and cool, he is reported to have tumbled several of the enemy in rapid succession, when the Indians concentrated their fire upon him and soon the cry rang out: 'John is killed, boys, we must get out of this,' and soon one near him ran to where he lay and secured his gun, and away they went on foot down the hill, for to attempt to mount their horses would have been almost certain death.
    "At this juncture the volunteers who are 200 yards behind are becoming hotly engaged with the Indians who are strung along the base of the mountain, parallel with the road. About 20 men dismounted at an old field, and tying their horses to the fence, climbed the side of the mountain next to Deer Creek, thinking to flank the Indians, while Capt. Williams with his company engaged them in front.
    "Major Bruce kept on the road with about 50 men, to where Collins and McCarty had been killed.
    "Now the battle of Eight Dollar Mountain has begun in mortal earnest. No broadsides were delivered, but a continuous, rattling pop, pop, pop of rifles and revolvers. The volunteers pressed the Indians slowly up the mountain, and for half a mile the smoke, at first in isolated puffs, gradually assumed a continuous line, and slowly ascended to and lingered among the tops of the pine trees and appearing like an immense conflagration.
    "The volunteers were compelled to uncover as they advanced up the mountain, while the Indians could retire from rock to rock, and from thicket to thicket, with but little exposure. For half an hour the battle rages, the boys advancing, the Indians retiring, until all are nearly half way to the top. The party of 20 who had intended to flank the Indians had been themselves flanked, and soon a shout was heard. 'See there boys, the Indians are running down towards our horses; come on, we must get to them first.'
    "And each man turned, and away they go down the side of the mountain--they and the Indians on a steeplechase down the rough and rocky decline, one to save, the other to gain some horses. The Indians had a little the start, but yelling, for all that was out.
    "The battle was still raging far up on the mountain, and this little side game was not seen by the other combatants. They had it all to themselves and were making it quite lively for each other. They were now within a hundred yards of the horses when--'See there boys.' And four horses began to vanish, each with a yelling savage on his back urging him along in the most approved Indian style. 'Keep the others off while we give those devils a parting salute,' and half a dozen rifles rang out sharp and clear.
     "Hurrah! One saddle is empty and away goes the horse down, away down yonder into that heavy timber, but one good Indian is left to fill the aching void. His scalp will be a legal tender for the lost horse. The boys have secured the remainder of the horses and the Indians have vamoosed; but not till they had given the boys a farewell salute, which was politely and promptly returned.
    "The boys mount the remaining horses, and, as the noise of the battle on the side of the mountain has not abated, but on the contrary has become louder and more clamorous, they turn their horses' heads and dash away at full speed--where to: Hay's ranch. They do not intend to run away, not at all, but is now noon and they have only gone to their dinner; they will be back soon--quien sabe.
    "Let us now go up the mountain to see what Capt. Williams is doing. Williams is a Scotchman, impetuous, brave, stubborn. The Indians are now coming down on him, for he is all alone with his little squad of 15 men, but they stand their ground. The Captain is reckless and calls continually on his men to give it to the enemy. His broad accent is heard loud and clear, and now and then he attempts to join in the mutual yells, which attempts, the boys said, had a surprising effect, as it sounded as though there had been a double broadside fired at the Indians, and they invariably became mute whenever they heard his wild and bloodcurdling yells.
    "'Jock, where are you?' shouts the captain to Jake Rhodes, one of his best men. "Now as I think on't we'd better git oot o' this,' and Jake thought so too, and so did they all. 'But what shall I do with Phillips?' asked Jake. 'He's not dead yet. I've put him behind a big rock. Bring him aloong, mon, bring him aloong, he'd better die with us, mon, than to be finished by them dirty hathen.'
    "Jake and another man seized Phillips, one taking hold of each arm, and started for the mountain, while Williams and the remainder brought up the rear. The Indians saw indications of retreat on the part of the volunteers, and began to press down closer and closer, and it soon became apparent to all that it was necessary to make better time in order to escape being surrounded by the Indians and cut to pieces."
Reds Held Their Own in Fight
    It will be noticed that in many of the battles heretofore described the Indians held their own, and many of the engagements were what might be called "draws."  Yet they were being gradually herded down the river, while other forces were driving them up the river from below. All of which meant their impending doom.
    One of the mysteries was as to how they managed to keep up their commissary department and their transportation facilities. For they carried their women and children with them. While they were near cattle ranches they could get plenty of beef, but down the river they had to depend on wild game. They seemed to always have plenty of ammunition; the whites were frequently short of that important essential.
Start for Big Meadow
    Olney continues, "Orders were now given to start to the Big Meadow on the morning of March 14, 1856. That morning having arrived, the tents were struck and a vanguard of 100 men under the immediate command of Lieut. Col. Chapman, with three scouts ahead under command of Capt. Billy Lewis, took an early start an hour or so ahead of the pack train which next followed, while the rear was brought up by Major Bruce.
    "First camp was made on a small creek emptying into Rogue River. It was early and the Lieut. Col. called the officers to his bivouac and enjoined upon them the necessity of care in executing the duty each would be called upon to perform.
    "The General had left us on the 13th to join Col. Kelsay at Grave Creek, therefore Col. Chapman was anxious that nothing should befall us which might bring censure upon him, or disaster upon his command. Col. Kelsay had started from Grave Creek with the Northern Battalion on the 14th and by reason of the shortness of the distance between his point of departure and the Little Meadows on Rogue River had reached that point by the time the Southern Battalion pitched camp at Peavine Mountain.
    "Kelsay's scouts reported to him that the enemy was encamped in force on a large bar on Rogue River opposite the end of the Big Meadows, three miles below the Little Meadows. The Col., wishing to crush the power of the Indians at one blow, deemed that the best plan to accomplish that end would be to order Col. Chapman to join him at the Little Meadows with his command, so as to make a combined and irresistible attack upon the enemy's stronghold.
    "But how to get the order to Col. Chapman was a difficult problem to solve. The distance was only 12 miles, but the country, and especially the trail, between the two camps was patrolled by the ever-vigilant enemy. He could not spare men from his command sufficient to fight their way through, as it was by no means certain that with forces divided he would not fall an easy prey to the Indians, who seemed to be well-up to all the movements, while their own were ever obscured from view.
    "The turbulent river lay between the two camps, with no means of crossing it. Col. Chapman had two canvas boats to be sure, but his camp was three to four miles from the river on the top of Peavine Mountain, and any attempt to call him would bring down a swarm of savages on the unlucky caller. The dispatch must be taken by one person, and that person must be well versed in the science of dodging Indians.
    "After a short search for such a man the Col. had the satisfaction to find him in the person of Tom Moore, a young man who had spent the first years of his majority on the Pacific Coast in search of gold, grizzly bear and fighting Indians. After a hard night of it Moore succeeded in delivering the dispatch and Chapman's command proceeded next day towards the Meadows.
    "At about the time the first load of men crossed the river they were met on the bank by a man named Wagner, who had started the day before from Grave Creek accompanied by a Mr. Harkness, intending to go to Col. Kelsay's camp at Little Meadows. While moving along the trail about 6 miles below Whiskey Creek they were fired upon by the Indians, and Harkness fell from his horse shot dead. Wagner received a slight wound, but turning back, succeeded in reaching a point in the trail on the ridge above the creek where he was gratified to see Chapman's command marching down the hill to the crossing of the river.
     "The next morning the command was in motion at an early hour, but with such a large following of pack trains and beef cattle it was 10 o'clock before the last man left camp. A few miles from camp the vanguard came upon the body of Harkness lying on the side of the trail. A light snow had fallen and covered it with a shroud of purest white.
    "The Indians had not only scalped the head but had perpetrated the most horrid butchery that one could conceive of. Their fiendish work was horrible to contemplate. The body had been cut and slashed in every part, as though the devilish savages could not satisfy their vengeance and hate with torturing the clay while the spirit remained.
    "Carefully the mutilated form was taken up and carried upon a mule to the Little Meadows, where it was buried with military honors. After the grave had been filled a large log heap had been made upon it and burned to ashes, as though a campfire had been made on the spot, that the Indians might not suspect it was a grave and dig up the body, as was their usual custom."
    "At an early hour of the day the Southern Battalion had joined the Northern in camp at the Little Meadows. The camp was on the upper bench of the Meadows, overlooking the river, two or three miles away and 1,000 feet below. Before the first camp was made, large pine trees formed a beautiful grove over the whole bench and for a distance below towards the river.
Trees Fallen for Breastwork
    "Relays of men were set to work felling the trees and forming a breastwork around a space of ground sufficiently extensive to contain an encampment of 700 men. The limbs served as fuel, while the trunks made an impenetrable barrier against bullets or a sudden attack by the Indians. Water and grass were abundant and of the best quality. A finer place for a military camp was not to be found in that section of the country; and it was decided to make the camp permanent until such time as a final move should be made.
    "The Indians were encamped on a large flat or bar three miles below on the opposite side of the river, and a daily scout would start out, to return at almost the same hour in the afternoon, which gave grounds for the suspicion that they only went far enough to avoid observation, and there remained the rest of the day and at near the same hour would return with the stereotyped report: 'Indians on the bar three miles below, some sign on this side but can't tell which way they intend to move. Think we will find out more next time.'
    "Thus days passed and no advance was made against the enemy. Leisure in camp was becoming irksome, and complaints were soon heard of the inactivity. At 12 o'clock at night Col. Kelsay was up and went to the tents of the Northern Battalion, and awakened the inmates and hurried them out. A detail of men with axes and shovels were set at work cutting a trail down the steep side of the gulch which ran along the west side of the flat to the bottom or bend of the gulch, sufficiently wide to drive down the pack train and beef cattle. Nearing the summit of the gulch bank, daylight began to send its tokens of gray to hurry up the now fatigued men.
    "They must be in front of the Indian encampment before daylight so as to be able to secure a good position for an assault. A mile and a half and they were in front of the enemy. The Indians' tents began to show plainly across the river 200 yards away. The Col. ordered his men to withhold their fire till he gave the signal. He placed his men, 300 strong, in a line fronting the encampment of the Indians, each man placing himself behind a tree, of which there were plenty, and awaited anxiously for the signal from their leader. About 50 men had slid down the bank and secreted themselves in the brush and behind the large boulders that lined the bank of the river at the water's edge.
    "It was not broad daylight. A few men, wishing to change their position, hurried from coverts and rushed further down the river. Their movements were seen by the Indian dogs who gave loud and angry barks and snarls. An Indian came out and looked around where the volunteers were secreted. Intently gazing for a moment he set up a howl, or ki-yi, and instantly the bar in front of the tents was covered with a mass of Indians who came out to see what was to be seen. The boys could wait no longer--why did not the Col. give the signal.
    "At last a rifle rang out clear on the still morning air, and 300 more followed instantaneously and the dark mass of Indians reeled and swayed. Those in front vainly endeavored to retrace their steps, but the augmenting numbers from the tents and brush shanties crowded then still further towards the now incessant shower of bullets poured into the writhing mass of unfortunates.
Rifles of 'Bostons' Do Duty
    "Screams, shouts and yells gave token that the accursed 'Bostons' were doing splendid work with their rifles. Those in the rear soon took a backward turn and the living current soon poured from the bar back into the brush, past the tents, beyond the brush houses, up the hill and lodged behind the tall pine and fir trees which lined the bluff back of the bar. Still the deadly rifles continued the fusillade. Shortly the Indians began to return the fire with vigor, and now we will leave the brave Kelsay and his equally eager men exchanging rapid and continued shots with the Indians, and return to the Southern Battalion in camp.
    "Two hours before daylight--the guards aroused the camp and in a few minutes the campfires were sending their long bright flashes far out into the gloom. As soon as the men were out of their blankets they rolled them up, took down the tents and by the time the cook had the morning meal of bread, coffee and meat ready the tents were ready for the packers. Hastily eating their breakfast, the men fell into companies and by the time daylight had fairly spread over the landscape, were far down on the trail towards the Indian encampment and were listening to the noise of battle while they hurried along, eager to join in the excitement of the melee.
    "The General remained with the rear guards and, taking a seat on a large stone by the side of the trail, had a clear view of the battle field which with his long spyglass he constantly viewed, from his lofty station, 500 feet above, and a mile away from the battle field. His men he saw constantly moving from point to point. The continuous rattle of firearms made his eye light up with grand military frenzy; his eyes showed the burning fires of strategic genius as they glanced through that well-worn spyglass.
    "Words of chagrin would now and then find vent from between his clenched teeth. If I were only there. The train at last make the crossing of the canyon and the General's way is clear. He advances to the high ground a half a mile from the still raging storm of battle, and surveys again the smoky scene. It was now 9 o'clock and the fire was slackening, but from across the river defiant yells were more numerous than rifle shots. At 10 o'clock the bloody battle was ended.
    "For two days the men remained in camp, with an occasional scout down the river towards Jackass Creek, and one back to the battle ground of the day before, when the Indians were seen to depart from their camp and climb the mountain back of the bar and disappear in the brush timber.
    "No other signs of Indians were seen, and on the third day the entire command was moved back to the old battle ground where they were formed in double lines on the bank of the river bluff and ordered to be in readiness to fire on the enemy if they should make an appearance. As soon as all was ready the two canvas boats were unpacked, put together, and launched on the river.
    "Capt. Billy Lewis and his company of scouts embarked and rowed across the river. Disembarking on the lower bank of the river, they hesitatingly and slowly climbed up on the bar. No Indians, no noise, no sign whatever, the valorous company began circulating around the bar, going from place to place like three overgrown calves in a strange barnyard. The boats were soon plying across the river and in a few hours men and supplies were safely ferried over and the field was won.
    "The men started out, each on his own account, on an exploring tour around the bar. Seven scalps of white men were found, some of them hanging on a tree, some on the ground. There were plenty of persons who knew from what unfortunate individuals each scalp had been taken. A few pieces of alaqua chick [Indian money] and some pieces of Chinese money, besides buttons, shells and some other useless articles were picked up. A good rifle was found standing against a tree, at the end of a track which seemed to have been trodden by a sentinel, who had set down his gun and forgotten to pick it up again.
    "The front and greater part of the bar was clear of brush, but the back and lower end were thickly covered with matted brush and slender young trees, interspersed with a few large fir and pine trees. Paths had been cut through this brushy undergrowth, and huts had been built of fir boughs in which the Indians had been living.
    "Bunks, or beds, somewhat after the style of those of the whites, had been made in these huts, on some of which food was found, while a few, and one in particular, was completely drenched with blood, as though the wounded had been carried from the bar while the volunteers were firing on them in the morning, and placed on these couches, and one or two had evidently died there, as the floor and bunks were strewn with hair cut from their heads. This is always done by some Indians when any one of their friends or relatives die.
    "The General took command of the regiment and in a few days started down the river in search of hostiles, who it was well known were at Big Bend, 40 miles below. While the General is on his march down there, we will go back and bring up Capt. Ord and Capt. Jones, whom we left in camp between Chetco River and the mouth of Rogue River. We will also, in the first place, follow Capt. A. J. Smith, with a company of dragoons from Fort Lane, near Jacksonville, down Illinois River to Big Bend, which will be preliminary to the march of Ord and Jones up the Rogue and of Limerick down. The meeting of all those forces culminates in the defeat of the Indians, and puts an end to the Rogue River War of 1856, and forever.
Smith's Dragoons March
    "Early in March 1856, Captain Smith with his dragoons left Fort Lane and proceeded down the river in search of hostiles. It was not his intention to bring the war to a close by fighting the Indians, but he intended, as did all the other army officers who figured on this coast in the various Indian wars, to accomplish that much-desired end by making a treaty with the Indians, whereby it would become the duty of the United States to feed and clothe them until such time as they should become sufficiently recruited to again begin their usual murders and pillage of the white settlers.
    "This thing had been done again and again until the Indians of Oregon thought and had boastingly said that the soldiers were here for them to scare and get paid for it. 'Soldiers! They are nothing; we'll shoot and kill a few, then the others will run away. Presently their chief will come to us with good talk, telling us that the soldiers like us, and that they do not come here to fight us, but to make the whites behave themselves, and that if we will be good again and not kill any more of them the big chief away off towards the rising sun will call us his good children and give us a great many good things--guns and ammunition, blankets, food, beads, paint, and a great many other very nice things.'
    "'So we'll be good and laugh and talk with the soldiers and white men until our things get old, then we'll talk angry again; if the soldiers come to us we'll make them run away again, and presently they will send us a great many ictas ["things"] again.'
    "Engaging Jimmy Dobson with his pack train to transport his supplies, the Captain left Fort Lane and began his march for the lower Rogue River. Instead of going directly down the river from the mouth of Applegate, he kept on up Slate Creek to Hay's ranch, from thence to Deer Creek and down that stream to Illinois River. Down this he marched to its confluence with the Rogue and down the Rogue River for a few miles, when he encamped at the mouth of a small creek.
Women Spy for Redskins
    "It was not long before his camp was visited by a few old Indian hags, for the ostensible purpose of begging something to eat, but really, though Captain Smith was slow to see it, for no other purpose than to spy out his camp and find the number of his troops preliminary to their attacking him and securing his extensive stock of supplies, which they felt confident of doing unless he was accompanied by a force of volunteers. Lieutenant Sweitzer and Quartermaster Fowler, who were of his force, urged the Captain to retain the old squaws until he had removed his camp to a more defensive locality.
    "Reluctantly he agreed to the proposition and next morning moved to Big Bend a few miles further down the river. Here he encamped on the wide bottom of a creek which close by empties into Rogue River. On one side of the camp was a ridge heavily timbered and destitute of water, on the other side was a dense mass of small trees and undergrowth.
    "Pitching camp on the bottom overlooked by the ridge and close to the dense undergrowth, the Captain gave the old squaws presents and food and sent them away to the Indian camp with nice words of love to the old chief and his band--that the chief of the soldiers wanted to talk with them, and if the said old chief would come to camp he would be well treated and fed.
    "Others came to Smith's camp to engage in the promised pow-wow and learn what chance of success there would be for an attack. Much as the Captain desired a peaceful adjustment of the difficulties, and he would sacrifice much except his personal honor, he soon saw that nothing but blood would satisfy the savage and reckless old chief and did not offer as much as he had at first intended.
    "The piratical Old John was indifferent as to whether or not he made friends with the soldiers. He did not hate them much, because he could whip them easily and as often as he wanted to, but the 'Boston man' he detested, and would not without an immense payment make friends with them. If the 'Bostons' would leave the country, the soldiers and Chinamen might stay, and as long as they gave food and clothing to the Indians they would not be molested. This was his ultimatum given much in the style of one boy towards another when about to finish a war of words--'Take that and if you say another word I'll lick you.'
    "The Captain saw nothing in it but the impulsive bravery of a much-abused Indian, and mildly told him he would do all that was right, and all that lay in his power, to satisfy him and relieve the Indian from the encroachments of the whites, but disclaimed all protection to the Chinamen. Old John was indifferent, while his companions grunted their approval of all that he said. Vainly the Captain endeavored to make a friendly impression on the much-abused chief, but it was of no use. The white man must leave or Old John and his band would never leave the field till the last man had offered himself up on the altar of his country.
Camp Moved to Ridge
    "The Indians departed, and to the suggestions of the officers to prepare for an attack the Captain only replied that he would move to the ridge and there await the arrival of Captains Ord and Jones. That evening camp was pitched upon the ridge, but no defense begun as the Captain did not believe an attack would be made. Lieut. Sweitzer was of a different opinion, and believed that the Indians meant to attack them, but being a good soldier was willing to be guided by the superior authority of the Captain.
    "The night passed without any alarm. At noon the next day a few Indians made their appearance on the ridge above camp and called for Captain Smith to come out and talk with them. The Captain saw the point and would not go. A few minutes after his emphatic refusal to go out the woods were filled with yelling Indians rushing toward the camp.
Scene Shifts
    "We must now go back to Captains Ord and Jones and bring them up to the scene of the attack by the Indians on Captain Smith at Big Bend. These officers had remained at their camp between Pistol River and Rogue River to recruit their animals and to further chastise the Indians, if any of them could be found.
    "The volunteers under Captain Abbott had been for some time at the mouth of Rogue River, whither they had been sent by Captain Ord to strengthen the forces at the mouth of the river.
    "Scouting parties had been sent out by Abbott, who was now chief officer, to ascertain the location of the Indians, and if possible find traces of Mrs. Geisel, the capture of whom and her children has been detailed in the story of the massacre of the settlers at the mouth of the river.
    "Charles Foster, an old miner and mountaineer, was, with four others, sent up the river toward Big Bend, where it was supposed the Indians were mostly congregated. They traveled after night slowly and noiselessly along the only trail. During the day they lay close in some secluded place off from the trail, yet near enough to hear anyone who might pass. Late one afternoon, while lying concealed under some dense undergrowth, they heard Indians.
Mary Geisel Seen with Red Group
    "One of the men, a Russian by birth, named Charles Brown, began to crawl out from his hiding place, saying at the same time that he intended to see who it was, for that was what they were out for. To the remonstrances of his friends he paid no heed but crawled out and straightened himself up when to his dismay he found himself in plain view of eight or ten bucks and as many squaws, who were drinking and bathing themselves at a little stream of water about 75 yards distant.
    "Dropping suddenly out of sight he told his companions of his discovery, and crawling a few feet he reached a position from which he could watch the Indians and be himself unseen. Sitting there and thinking how he would like to pick off one of them after another with his good rifle, he saw one of the smaller females turn her face full in his direction and in spite of her torn and filthy condition he recognized Mary Geisel.
    "As soon as he saw Mary Geisel, Brown crawled back to his companions and told them of the discovery. He wanted to attack the Indians at once, but they were not willing to fight with such odds against them in numbers, and while they heard loud talking among the Indians. Listening intently, one of the scouts, who understood something of the Indian language, discovered that the main camp of the Indians was but three miles down the river.
    "Upon learning this the scouts concluded that the best thing they could do was to return at once to the command and advise an attack upon the Indian camp for the release of Mrs. Geisel and her daughter. After a delay of a day or two, Captains Ord and Abbott made an attack upon the Indians at their camp, and killed a number of bucks and captured a number of squaws, but the Geisels had been taken off to another camp.
    "About this time a dispatch was received from Capt. Augur, who was further up the river, telling Ord to hurry; as it was, the Indians were concentrating to attack Smith's camp, still higher up the river.
    "Gen. Lamerick was now coming down the river, driving the Indians ahead of him, towards Smith, and there was great danger that a sufficient force of the savages would gather to overpower Smith's command. Quickened by the dispatch, Ord hastened to join Augur, and the two commands proceeded as fast as possible to the camp of Smith at Big Bend.
    "On his march down the river Lamerick came upon a large party of Indians and attacked them as they were attempting to cross the river. The Indians were routed and scattered. Several Indians were killed, the dead bodies of three being left where they fell. A few squaws and children were captured, from whom the General learned that the party to which they belonged were only waiting for those below to capture Capt. Smith's company, when they intended to come on up the river after being reinforced by those below, take in the General's situation, and then make a clean sweep of the valleys above.
    "They told him that the Indians were then engaged with Smith at the Big Bend and had probably killed all his company before that time.
    "We must now return to the attack of the Indians on Capt. Smith's command. His station was on the end of the ridge where it descended in three directions. The only place where he cold be attacked with any show of success was from above on the backbone of the ridge.
    "When the Indians saw the soldiers begin to pile up breastworks, they made a rush at the camp as if intending to take it by storm. The coolness exhibited by the officers and men, who met the Indians with a deadly volley, seemed for an instant to disconcert them, and they began to fall back.
    "But their leaders rallied them and they returned the attack. Several times they were repulsed with loss, when at last they desisted and began to pick off the men at a little longer range. Smith set men at work digging rifle pits in front of the camp, but they were soon driven from their work by the deadly onslaught of the Indians. Eight had already been killed and more wounded. The day was drawing to a close and still the murderous assault was kept up. No relaxation, but on the contrary, pushed with more vigor each moment.
    "The supply of water had been exhausted and one-third of the command had been killed and disabled, as night shut down on the desperate encounter. No water could be obtained, for the enemy controlled all the ground between the camp and the creek, and the wounded suffered extreme torture from their burning thirst. The men lay down in relays to rest while their companions kept up an answering fire, as the enemy still continued to pour their bullets in showers upon the apparently doomed command.
    "During the night the men began on the rifle pits, and before dawn had completed a sufficient number. Some of them several rods in advance of the outer line of breastworks had been strengthened as best they could by felling some trees on the outskirts of camp, and by break of day the pits were occupied and the breastworks manned in readiness for more desperate assault. During this time attempts were made to get some water, but without success.
    "The Indians knew that the soldiers were without water and left no avenue for them to get it. They had completely surrounded the camp and were determined to take it at all risks. They had suffered, too, in killed and wounded, but not to the extent of the loss of the soldiers. Besides outnumbering the soldiers five to one, they were fighting for their hunting grounds and for the supplies in the camp of the soldiers, and they were in all aspects eager and determined.
    "Smith's ammunition was becoming exhausted, and the men were ordered to reserve their fire until the aim was sure. Every bullet thrown away was a serious loss. As soon as daylight was sufficiently clear to distinguish objects plainly, the Indians made another rush for camp. They were met at the rifle pits with a fire from the whole camp more deadly than ever before, for the men had now become desperately in earnest, and every shot took effect.
    "The fire from the pits was a surprise to the savages who came swarming up to them. Not exactly comprehending the turn the defense had taken, they showed symptoms of falling back. Now was the opportunity for carrying out the plan the captain had formed of charging the Indians.
    "The bugle sounded the charge, but the men did not obey. No use, out of ammunition and outnumbered, a charge would be disastrous. Better remain in the rifle pits. The morning advanced and the sun was high above the eastern horizon. Thirst was consuming the men, while several of the wounded had expired.
    "About 10 o'clock the Indians seemed to have been reinforced and made another desperate charge. They did not attempt to scale the breastworks but rushed up to within short range and, sheltering themselves behind trees, poured a heavy fire upon the troops. For an hour, a long desperate hour, the fight continued at close quarters and two-thirds of the soldiers were killed and wounded. Many of the wounded, however, were not disabled, but continued to do good work with their rifles.
    "After a time many of the Indians retreated toward the river, leaving a few to do the fighting, with the intention, no doubt, of inducing the troops to leave their defenses and charge the few Indians left. But the soldiers were not to be decoyed from their position; it was a desperate one, but less dangerous than outside of their breastworks, and they were hoping and praying that they could hold out till help could come.
    "Suddenly loud shouts and furious firing are heard below, and the beleaguered troops are aware that friends are coming to the rescue. In a few minutes the retreating Indians began to reappear, coming back from the river. At the rear and right flank of the Indians blue coats are seen, and a long line of gray-shirted men come charging up the hill, in front of the enemy.
    "Ord and Augur swept down the ridge upon the Indians, while Abbott charged them in front and flank and, finding themselves thus in danger of being surrounded, the savages fled precipitously by the only avenue of escape down the left side of the ridge, and were soon beyond the reach of danger from the troops.
    "The newcomers flocked into Smith's camp and were greeted with rejoicing by the rescued men. Water was speedily brought and the wounded were cared for. Firing was now heard a few miles up the river, and within an hour all who were able were on the march to the scene of the conflict.
    "Gen. Lamerick having been informed by his scouts that a battle was in progress was hurrying down the river, and while halted for a short time was encountered by the retreating Indians, and a sharp battle ensued, which resulted, however, in little damage to either side. The Indians soon crossed the river and began to retreat, and by the time the troops from below reached the ground they had all disappeared.
    "As the Indians had scattered and it was impossible to know where they would rendezvous, it was deemed best to camp and send out scouting parties to find their next camp. Lamerick returned up the river about two miles and camped, while the regulars camped a mile or two further down. Late in the evening of the same day Lamerick's scouts brought to camp the news that the Indians were gathering a few miles back from the river opposite a point about midway between the two camps, where they appeared to be expecting an attack.
    "Lamerick sent orders to Capt. Smith, who was the senior officer of the regular troops to march at daylight with his command up to a designated point on the river and there await further orders, while he, the General, would cross over the river above the Indian camp and attack them, and should they cross the river Smith was to pitch into them wherever seen.
    "Before daylight the volunteers began crossing in their two canvas boats, and a little after dawn were all over and on a rapid march down towards the Indian camp, and before the sun was high above the horizon began the attack. The Indians were behind their last works, in their last ditch, and for a while kept the volunteers at a respectful distance.
     "Smith's scouts had by some means captured some canoes and that officer crossed some of his men below the Indian camp and soon after the attack above attacked the camp from below. When the Indians became aware that the troops were below them, they seemed completely nonplussed while the volunteers from above and the regulars from below were steadily closing in upon them.
    "After a short resistance they broke and fled wherever they could. Some plunged into the river and swam across, only to be shot by the soldiers as they emerged from the water; others were shot while swimming over. Some were killed outright and floated down the current until they sank, others were only wounded and managed to keep afloat by continually ducking their heads under water whenever they thought that a shot was fired at them.
    "The whole camp was soon surrounded. The greater part of the squaws and children were made captive, together with all the effects of the Indians. For an hour the killing continued whenever an Indian could be seen. Old scores were now being settled, as was plainly denoted by the continued rattling of musketry and the sharper reports of the more deadly rifles of the volunteers.
Troops Revenge Murders
    "At last all was over and the troops gathered at the now bloody Indian camp. A few Indians were captured and brought into camp, and it required all the authority that the officers could exert to prevent them from being immediately killed by the enraged men, who remembered the treacherous murders of their friends and would not have spared a single one of the heartless savages.
    "Gen. Lamerick knew the temper of his men, knew that many of them had had relatives killed by the Indians, and for the once was utterly incapable of seeing or knowing all that his men did. Capt. Smith was a noted protector and bitterly complained to the General on the waywardness of the volunteers. But how could the General watch all of his men?
    "No signs yet of Mrs. Geisel and her children, nor of Mrs. Wagner. To the inquiries as to where they were, the captive Indians would answer by pointing down the river. At last one young squaw said that she did not know where Mrs. Wagner was, but thought she was dead, had not seen her since they left the Big Meadows a month before.
    "Mrs. Geisel and her children were down the river with a small band of Indians on a creek on the same side of the river as that on which the troops now were. She did not know [if] they were yet alive, but they were a few days before.
    "The Indians were now scattered and the tribe utterly broken up. All that remained to do was to hunt them up and gather them together on a reservation. The combined force of volunteers and regulars now encamped together. Some of the squaws were sent out to induce the Indians to come in and make peace and to deliver up their prisoners, and account for those they had murdered; if any such there were.
    "At 10 o'clock the next day the squaws had not returned; but the ever-vigilant spies reported a squad of Indians four miles below; having in their possession Mrs. Geisel and her children. One hundred men under Captains Augur and Abbott started down to attack them but were met on the way by the returning squaws and several of the lesser chiefs who had been commissioned to talk for Old John and the other big ones.
     "With them an arrangement was made for the Indians to surrender and deliver up their prisoners. Upon this being reported to Old John, he objected vehemently, but was overruled by the other chiefs and by the threats of the troops to massacre them all immediately if they did not at once surrender.
    "Having nearly all the squaws and children as hostages, Charles Brown volunteered to go to the Indian camp and endeavor to effect the release of the prisoners and the surrender of the Indians. After a long talk to the chiefs, who refused at first to either surrender or deliver up the captives, Brown at last told them that all the prisoners in the hands of the troops would be killed if they harmed Mrs. Geisel and her children and did not deliver them up the next day.
    "At this point they agreed to the terms offered, but said they could not deliver up Mary Geisel, as she belonged to a young chief who said he would die before he would part with her. The next day Mrs. Geisel and her little daughter Anna were brought in to camp. To the demands that Mary be given up they steadily refused, without a heavy ransom.
    "Charley Brown made several ineffectual trips to the hostile camp to induce the young chief to surrender Mary, and not till he told the Indians for the last time that they would all be killed by the enraged troops unless they surrendered her did he succeed in escorting her into the camp of the volunteers and uniting her with her mother and sister under the protection of her friends.
    "A vote of thanks was tendered to Charley Brown and a written certificate to that effect given to him by the assembled troops for the heroism he exhibited in his efforts to secure the liberation of Mrs. Geisel and her children. Of Mrs. Wagner nothing has ever been definitely known, except that she is dead.
    "The Indians surrendered and were placed on reservations and the Rogue River war was ended."
    A. J. Barlow, formerly a resident of Grants Pass, has left us an addendum that needs to be quoted, in which Gen. Lane is again brought into the record. Mr. Barlow was Gen. Lane's nephew. His letter follows:
    "Uncle David Gilmore of Woodville relates an interesting reminiscence of pioneer history. In June of 1856, soon after the Rogue River Indians were subjugated and were being taken to the Siletz Reservation by Indian Agent Robert Metcalfe, about a dozen bucks and three or four squaws, who could not endure the idea of being forced by the hated whites on a reservation not of their own choice, concluded to desert and betake themselves to the mountains, which they did at Myrtle Creek in Douglas County.
    "They were unarmed and had but little provisions, just what they stole from the camp on the night before they deserted. They soon managed to make themselves bows and arrows with which to kill game.
    "Not many weeks after they went into the mountains the settlers along the Umpqua River noticed that they commenced to miss provisions and wearing apparel. These little thefts became more and more frequent, so much so, indeed, that the settlers laid all sorts of traps to catch the midnight marauders but to no avail, the redskins being too 'foxy.'
    "This business continued uninterruptedly until the summer of 1857, when, one hot moonlight July night, the Gilmores were awakened from their slumbers by the stampeding of their horses. When daylight came they went to the pasture to find that the Indians had shot their horses with arrows. Some had been shot through the bowels and afterward died. This so exasperated the settlers that they determined to hunt the red devils down.
    "Gen. Lane had just been elected to Congress and he was consulted in relation to the matter. He at once organized a searching party, consisting of himself, Col. Wm. Martin of Jacksonville, A. J. Burnett, David Gilmore, John Fitzhugh, and his younger son, Lafayette, a lad of 15 years, and three friendly Klamath Indians, named Sampson, Captain Chief and Joe Snakes.
    "The searching party set out in the direction of Camas Valley and the head of Coquille River. After they had been out about three or four days the General divided his forces. He sent Burnett and Gilmore, accompanied by Captain Chief and Joe Snakes, in the direction of Camas Valley, with instructions that if they discovered Indian signs to return to a certain place and report.
    "Burnett and Gilmore had not proceeded many miles until they found unmistakable signs of the close proximity of Indians. They at once wheeled about and joined Lane's party about sundown of the same day they started. The next day, bright and early, all hands were in their saddles.
    "The General cautioned the men not to make any noise, such as shooting at game, which was forbidden. However, about noon the party came suddenly in sight of an unusually large black bear. The temptation was irresistible, and the General sang out 'Let us give it to him, men.' In an instant every man in the party sent his leaden missile into bruin's carcass, killing him instantly.
    "One of the Indians wanted the bear's hide, and accordingly they skinned him. They were detained at this about an hour, when they proceeded to move along cautiously in pursuit of the Indians. They soon found Indian signs, but by this time the day was drawing to a close. The party concluded to return to the gulch where they had shot the bear, in order to get water.
    "When they arrived at the spot they were dumbfounded to find that the Indians had proceeded to the same spot and cut and carried the bear to their own camp, which evidently could not be far away. A guard was kept out all night. The next morning the searching party started down the gulch. Col. Martin discovered smoke on the left-hand side of the gulch.
    "The party cautiously crossed over and soon went unobserved into the Indian encampment, which was a genuine surprise. In an instant the Indians were in a fearful commotion. They evidently thought they would all be murdered. Gen. Lane, with characteristic coolness, informed the Indians that his party did not come to kill them, but to capture them and send them to the reservation where they belonged--that they had to submit at once, and that any resistance on their part would cause all of them to be shot.
    "The General ordered his men to keep their hands near their pistols and to proceed to gather up the bows and arrows of the Indians. Soon all their traps were gathered and loaded on the horses and the captors and captives started for the Umpqua Valley. They traveled all day and at night camped at a beautiful stream called Snowberry Creek. A close watch was kept over the Indians during the night.
    "In the meantime, however, it should be stated that two young Indians named Jim Burnteye and Bogus had, the day before, gone on a hunting tour. When they returned to their camp and ascertained that the whites had captured their comrades, their bewilderment and grief can be imagined.
    "However, they followed the tracks of the captors into the valley to ascertain what the whites intended to do with their friends. When Jim Burnteye and Bogus found that the whites did not contemplate killing them, they also came in and gave themselves up.
    "It turned out that the Indians, when they heard the shooting of the bear, merely supposed it was a hunting party out for game and little dreamed that they, themselves, were the game sought. They were taken to Winchester and there remained until officers from Alsea arrived and removed them unwillingly, as usual, to the reservation, from whence most of them doubtless, long ere this, have passed to the 'happy hunting ground.'"
    To the above it may be added that the Rogue River Indians, on being landed at Siletz Reservation soon became greatly dissatisfied with their location and wanted to get back to the country where "it's the climate," that lures both Indians and whites. The climate was so moist on the coast that the Indians dropped off [died] rapidly.
      "Old John, in particular, was so dissatisfied that the military authorities deemed it wise to send him to Alcatraz for safekeeping. On his way down there on the steamer Columbia, he and his son came near capturing the vessel.
    "Old John was so excited over it that he gave the war whoop, and that gave the whites warning to defend themselves. John's son got wounded and lost a leg in the melee. John was safely landed, however, at Alcatraz, and remained therer two or three years, when he was allowed to return to his family at Siletz. The adult Indians soon died off, but the younger generation grew up as wards of the government and became more reconciled to the lazy life of such an existence."
    I may also add here, that, in preparing these articles, I am merely compiling and not producing history. If I have succeeded in interesting the local reader in our local history, my ambition will be sufficiently gratified. If my readers want fuller particulars I would advise them to get Mrs. Victor's work, to be had at our public library. Her book is really a state document, printed by the State Printer, and ought to be reliable. The legislature appropriated $15,000 to have the archives of the state sifted and a history of all our Indian wars published. The Secretary of State was fortunate in getting so able a historian as Mrs. Victor to do the work.
Grants Pass Daily Courier, April 2, 1960, pages 1-12




    Of the 242 Oregon emigrants who fell victim to the massacres of Indians in the territorial settlement period throughout the state of Oregon, 108 are directly attributable to the Rogue River Indians of Southern Oregon--or to immediate allies, who waylaid their unfortunate prey in the general area of Southern Oregon.
    The official reports of the Territorial Committee on Military Affairs is authority for the foregoing summary, and their complete record of the ill-fated settlers whose lives were lost is presented herewith, from official copies of the territorial records of [1858] now in the possession of Marjorie Neill Helms, Ardencraig, Grants Pass, Oregon.
    The entire report is given with a star (*) preceding each paragraph referring to the Southern Oregon Indian fatality incidents.
    "Your committee, to whom were referred the governor's message and resolution No.___, relative to the protection of immigrants--in 1854, with instructions to report, as far as practicable the number, date, places, and names of persons killed by Oregon Indians and their allies in times of peace, and those killed in times of war by Indians supposed to be friendly submit the following report:
    "The deadly hostility of the Indians inhabiting the extreme northern and southern portions of our Territory may be traced back to a very early period. As far back as [1828], a party of about thirty persons, under the control of Captain Smith, were massacred near the mouth of the Umpqua River.
    *In June [1834], George Gay, Daniel Miller, Edward Barnes, Dr. Bailey, Mr. Sanders, John Turner, John Woodworth and an Irishman called Tom were attacked by Rogue River Indians near where Mr. Birdseye now lives in Rogue River Valley and Mr. Miller, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Sanders and Tom were killed. The other four were badly wounded but made their escape.
    *In August [1835] as a party of citizens of Oregon were driving the first cattle from California to this Territory, they were attacked near the same spot where the party was attacked in [1834], by the same Indians, and Mr. Gay, who was of the party of [1834], was again wounded.
    *In the fall of 1846 a sick immigrant was killed on the Southern Oregon immigrant road, near Lost River, by Modoc Indians.
    On the 29th of November 1847 Dr. Whitman, a Protestant missionary, his wife, two orphan children, a Frenchman, and about eleven immigrants were massacred at or near the mission in Walla Walla Valley by Cayuse Indians. This was the commencement of the Cayuse War.
    *In 1851 an exploring party of eight or ten men were attacked near the mouth of Coquille River, in Southern Oregon, and six of the number were killed.
    *In 1851 two men were killed on Grave Creek and one or two more on Rogue River by Rogue River Indians for which they were chastised by Major Kearny, United States Army. It was in some of Major Kearny's engagements with these Indians that Captain Stuart, United States Army, was killed.
    *In May 1851 Mr. Dilley was killed near Camp Stuart in Rogue River Valley by Rogue River Indians; and
    *In October 1851 Mr. Moffitt was killed near the same place by the same Indians.
    *In June 1852 Calvin Woodman was killed in Scott's Valley, California by Rogue River Indians.
    In June 1852 James L. Treaner, John Brando, "Cayuse" Jackson and "Adobe" John, a Mexican, were killed by Pitt River Indians, in the valley of that name, while viewing a wagon road from Sacramento Valley to the southern boundary line of Oregon.
    *In August 1852 Mr. Coats, John Ornsby, James Long and thirty-three immigrants were murdered by the Modoc Indians on the Southern Oregon emigrant road.
    *In December 1852 William Gundage, Peter Hunter, James Bacon and brother, Mr. Bruner, William Allen and Mr. Palmer, were massacred by Rogue River Indians on Rogue River near the mouth of Galuse (Galice) Creek.
    *In 1853 August 4 Edward Edwards was killed by Rogue River Indians in his own house on Stewart's Creek.
    *August 5, 1853, Thomas Wills was mortally wounded by Rogue River Indians within three hundred yards of the town of Jacksonville.
    *August 6, 1853, Richard Nolan was killed by Rogue River Indians on Jackson Creek one mile from the town of Jacksonville.
     *August 17, 1853, John Gibbs, William Hugdins and three others whose names are not known, were killed in Rogue River Valley by Rogue River Indians. (Ed. Note: Two of these were later presumed from other records to be John Hardin and William R. Rose.)
    *October 6, 1853, James C. Kyle was killed by Rogue River Indians two miles from Fort Lane and about six from Jacksonville. The actual murderer of Mr. Kyle and those who murdered Edwards and Wills were subsequently arrested and were tried for their offenses before the Hon. O. B. McFadden, in the spring of 1854, and were convicted and hung. These three Indians, with those chastised by Major Kearny in 1851, are the only ones ever punished for crime by either the civil or military authorities in southern Oregon.
    *In January 1854, Hiram Hulen, John Clark, John Oldfield, and Wesley Mayden were killed between Jacksonville and Yreka by Rogue River, Shasta and Modoc Indians.
    *April 15, 1854, Edward Phillips was killed on Applegate Creek, near Fort Lane, by Rogue River Indians.
    *June 15, 1854, Daniel Gage was killed while crossing the Siskiyou Mountains, between Jacksonville and Yreka.
    "June 24, 1854, Captain McAmy was killed at DeWitt's ferry on Klamath River by Shasta and Rogue River Indians.
    August 20, 1854, Alexander Ward, his wife, and seven children, Mrs. White and child, Samuel Mulligan, Dr. Adams and brother, William Babcock, John Frederick, and Rudolph Shultz, Mr. Ames and a Frenchman, name unknown, were massacred by Snake Indians on the northern emigrant road near Fort Boise.
    In September 1854 Mr. Stewart was killed by Indians on the middle route to Oregon via the plains.
    *May 8, 1855, Mr. Hill was killed on Indian Creek by Rogue River Indians.
    *June 1, 1855, Jerome Dyer and Daniel McKew were killed by Rogue River Indians on the road between Jacksonville and Illinois Valley.
    *June 2, 1855, Mr. Philpot was killed in Deer Creek Valley by the same Indians next above mentioned.
    *July 27, 1855, Mr. Peters was killed on Humbug Creek by Klamath, Shasta and Rogue River Indians.
    July 28, 1855, William Hennessey, Edward Parish, Thomas Grey, Peter Hignight, John Pollock, four Frenchmen, and two Mexicans, names unknown, were killed by the Indians next before referred to, at Buckeye Bar, on Klamath River.
    *September 2, 1855, Mr. Keene was killed by Modoc Indians on the southern emigrant road, near Rogue River Valley.
    In September 1855, Mrs. Clark and a young man were killed in Yamhill County by Coast Indians.
    In September 1855 Elisha Plummer and four others, names unknown, were killed at Grand Ronde, east of the Blue Mountains, by Cayuse and Walla Walla Indians.
    In September 1855 Indian Agent A. J. Bolon, ___ Matteese, and two others were killed by the Yakima Indians east of the Cascade Mountains.
    *September 24, 1855, Fields and Cunningham were killed by Rogue River Indians on the Siskiyou Mountains between Jacksonville and Yreka.
    *September 25, 1855, Samuel Warren killed by the same Indians next above referred to.
    *October 9, 1855, Mrs. J. B. Wagoner, Mary Wagoner, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, Mr. and Mrs. Haines and two children, George W. Harris, David W. Harris, F. A. Reed, William Gwin, James W. Cartwright, Mr. Powell, Bunch, Fox, Hamilton and White, were killed by Umpqua and Rogue River Indians near Evans ferry on Rogue River. This is known as "the Wagoner massacre."
    *October 10, 1855, Misses Hudson and Wilson killed by Rogue River and Klamath Indians, on the road between Crescent City and Indian Creek.
    *October 16, 1855, Holland Bailey was killed by Umpqua and Cow Creek Indians in Cow Creek Valley.
    *November 6, 1855, Charles Scott and Theodore Snow killed on the road between Yreka and Scotts Bar by messengers from the Rogue River to the Klamath Indians.
    *February 23, 1856, Captain Ben Wright, Captain John Poland, H. Braun, E. W. Howe, Mr. Wagoner, Barney Castle, George McClusky, Mr. Lara, W. R. Tullus, James Seroc and two sons, Mr. Smith, Mr. Warner, John Geisel and three children, S. Heidrick, Patrick McCollough and four others, whose names are unknown, were killed by Indians in charge of agent Captain Ben Wright, near the mouth of Rogue River.
    March 26, 1856, George Griswold, Norman Palmer, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, Mr. Watkins, James St. Clair, and eleven others, names unknown, were killed by Cascade Indians. This is known as "the Cascade Massacre."
    June 1856, Charles Green and Thomas Stewart killed on McKinney's Creek, near Fort Jones by Shasta Indians.
    January or February 1857, Harry Lockhart, Z. Rogers, Adam Boles, D. Bryan and "John," a German, killed in Pit River Valley by Pit River Indians.
    It will be seen by the foregoing list that prior to 1851 upwards of 50 citizens were murdered by Oregon Indians. Since 1851 upwards of 150 citizens have been murdered by the Indians of Southern Oregon and their immediate allies, and about 50 by the Indians of Northern Oregon and their allies since 1851. Many more names could be obtained from papers and living witnesses, but your committee have not time to investigate further.
    (A recapitulation of the fatalities by year dates is stated as follows:  Killed in 1834, 30; 1835, 4; 1846, 1; 1847, 16; 1850, 6; 1851, 6; 1852, 47; 1853, 8; 1854, 8; 1855, 51; 1856, 43; and 1857, 5--a total of 242 fatalities.)
Territory of Oregon:  
    I, B. F. Harding, Secretary of the Territory of Oregon, do hereby certify that the foregoing is a true and perfect copy of the original now on file in my office.
    In testimony whereof I have hereunto signed my name and affixed the seal of the Territory this thirtieth day of March, A.D., 1858.
Grants Pass Daily Courier, April 2, 1960, pages 1-2  Click here for more versions of the (white) casualty list, including the source of the above transcribed from the original manuscript.




    "…They have never been whipped thoroughly in any fight they have had with the whites."
    These words, from none other than gallant General Joseph Lane to Congress on May 30, 1860, in the course of his discussion of the bill for "provision for the payment of expenses incurred by the Territories of Washington and Oregon, in the suppression of Indian Hostilities therein, in the years 1855 and 1856" may well represent the highest tribute ever paid, at official level, to the bravery and fighting skills of the Rogue River Indians and specifically to the great fighting chief, Chief John.
    The plea of General Lane, then serving as territorial representative of Oregon in the United States Senate, resulted in the passing later that same day of the bill for payment of the Indian wars debt, in the amount of $3 million, by a vote of 31 to 17:
From Congressional Record
    The larger statement of Gen. Lane concerning the Indians is as follows:
    "But sirs, the Indians of Oregon and Washington are not inferior even to the Indians whom our fathers fought in Kentucky and the West. They are able in war. They are as brave as any people on the face of the earth. I have never met men of more courage than the warriors of that country. They are rich in property. Many of the Indians engaged in this war owned a thousand horses apiece and many cattle. They are men of character, men of much knowledge and of great treachery. They are bold in war.
    "These Indians are famous in war. They have always been at war. They have been at war with one another for centuries, and they are the most artful and skilled people that I have ever had anything to do with. I learned a little of war in Mexico, but I am willing to confess to the Senator from Kentucky and to the Senate, that I knew but little of the stratagems and arts of Indian warfare until I participated in it. I recollect in one battle, fought by a portion of my command with the Indians in 1853, we lost just one half of the command, killed dead on the ground; and the balance were very glad to be rescued.
    "Upon another occasion, at another battle, subsequent to that day, every officer in the command but one was killed or wounded. I received a severe wound and then we were not able to defeat them. I tried everything I understood, every plan that I had learned in war, and everything I could think of to drive the Indians from their positions, but we were not able to do it. However, they asked for a parley in the evening, when the battle had raged for four or five hours, which resulted in a talk; and there, upon the battlefield we made a peace; and we were very glad to get off that way, for it was the hardest day's work I ever saw, save the battle of Buena Vista.
Chief John United Tribes
    "Well, sir, the chief who managed to bring about this war, and formed this alliance with all the tribes, for he had been two years engaged in bringing about peace between the tribes that had been at war with one another, in order that he might make this organization with a view of destroying the entire settlements, the great leader, the great chief that conducted that affair, and brought about the organization and managed the whole plan of attack, and had much to do in fighting the battles--met Captain Smith, as gallant an officer as there is in the Army, or in the world, upon a mountaintop, where he had no water, and for three days he besieged him there, and shot his men down in spite of all the energy and all the skill of that gallant officer, Captain Smith caused his men to dig holes for themselves in the ground as deep as their own height and to stand in the holes with their heads just out of them so that they could see, and in that position the Indians managed to kill a large number of his command. [The fortifications at the Battle of Big Bend were very shallow scrapings in the earth. The soldiers had no digging tools other than a few metal dishes.]
Men Thirst Three Days
    "For three days they had not one drop of water, until the arrival of some volunteers who were passing through the country seeking these Indians. [The soldiers were besieged only overnight until rescued by regular army Captain Augur.] I will say, before I mention the good fortune of the arrival of the volunteers, that the chief approached the captain every day near enough to speak to him. The captain understood his language well; was personally well acquainted with him. The captain had entertained him at his quarters many times, giving him dinner and treating him kindly; and in this action, he would come near enough to speak to the captain, and hold up a rope, and in the Indian tongue, tell him:
    "'Look here; see this rope; tomorrow I intend to take you and hang you under a limb; I will kill the last man of your command; but you will not be dignified with a shot; you shall be hung to the limb of a tree.'
    "The old chief told me afterwards that if the volunteers had not arrived the captain would soon have been in his power. Such was his opinion.
    "There was no more gallant man than Captain Smith. In that extremity, however, the volunteers arrived, raised the siege, and saved that gallant officer and his command.
    "Such is the character of the Indians we have had this trouble with. I will mention another fact. I will extend the history of this great chief a little further.
    "He agreed finally, after twelve months' struggle, and when the northern tribes dropped off, and would no longer prosecute the war--he did not come in but sent a messenger to the colonel commanding and proposed to him that if he could be taken and treated as he suggested, and placed upon a reservation, and fields cleared, and men hired to work them and many other things that he proposed--that he would quit the struggle and go to a reservation.
    "We were very glad to get him in upon any terms, and I believe everything was promised him that he required, and he was taken on a reservation, the most beautiful spot that I know of, in as fertile a valley as there is in the world, where the agent last year succeeded in raising 80,000 bushels of potatoes, and wheat enough to bread them for a year.
Chief John Reneges
    "This chief took it into his head, after being on the reservation two years, that he would not stay away from his old hunting grounds any longer, that he would kill all the whites, and commence another war. So skillfully did he lay his plans that but for the disclosures of a young squaw, who thought the agent ought not to be slaughtered, he would have executed them.
    "The agent was at that time in the Willamette Valley purchasing supplies for the Indians 30 miles from the reservation, and there were very high, almost impassable mountains between the reservation and the settlements. He made his plans to waylay and kill Metcalfe, the agent, on his return and then kill all the white men employed there, take their arms, and rush into the mountains, and in those mountains it would be almost impossible to find a man. The brush and chaparral are so thick that you could not see a man in many places 10 feet to save your life, and in such a place the Indians have a great advantage.
    "Metcalfe was informed of it, through the kindness of a young squaw, who sent a runner across the mountains, that met him and notified him of the danger. A lieutenant was sent with some 20 men, on the trail with him, and on their way they passed the place where the Indians were in ambush for the purpose of waylaying and murdering him.
    "The Indians, seeing him accompanied by troops, did not show themselves till the command had gone on some distance, when they fell into the trail behind them and, coming up, expressed great pleasure at seeing them.
    "On arriving at the reservation, the Indians were invited to go into the council house to receive some presents and when there the guards rushed in and seized John and his son.
    "They took them to Fort Vancouver. They were kept in prison or as prisoners, for the safety of the settlers and for the purpose of maintaining peace.
Two Captives Fool Guards, Seize Steamer
    "Finally the commander of the post concluded that it would be better to send him to California, and accordingly he and his son were put on board a steamer, with a guard of 12 men, and on their way to California, they arose in the night, when everybody was asleep, and possessed themselves of all the six-shooters and arms of the 12 men who were guarding them, for they were asleep and never dreamed of the Indians rising 200 miles from the mouth of the Columbia.
    "They seized the arms of the guard and took possession of the ship, and held possession of it for two hours, in spite of the captain, who is as brave a man as any, though he had a full crew and many passengers.
    "That is his history and it is absolutely true. He had possession of the ship for two hours and they could not retake her, for he had the arms, and if the captain or any of the people attempted to go down the hatch into the cabin he would fire and drive them back. He killed or wounded several persons, men and women, for he commenced with a view of an indiscriminate slaughter. They succeeded at last in breaking the leg of the young one and knocking down the old man.
    "The captain said he was too brave to be killed and he should not be. He took him to San Francisco, had the leg of the young one amputated and they are both there now. I conversed with them on my way here. I shall call and see him on my return. I intend to propose to him, as I believe now we have satisfied him that it would not do to go to war, to come home and live with me so that we can talk over the struggles we have passed through then in Oregon.
    "This is the character of the people we have had to deal with. It was not a trifling matter. The honorable senators will recollect that only two years ago one of the most gallant Army officers we have, in attempting to travel through the country with 150 cavalry, with two or three pieces of artillery, was attacked in the open prairie. The Indians drove them away, killed Captain Taylor, Lieutenant Gaston, and several men, chased them for 90 miles, and, but for friendly Indians, would have scalped them all.
    "They made their escape by leaving behind everything they had. The Indians captured the artillery and everything else. They have never been whipped thoroughly in any fight they have had with the whites."
    The Courier is indebted to Mr. and Mrs. Thomas F. Williams, living at 1233 Redwood Highway, and to the Oregon State Library for the loan of their volumes of the Congressional Record, two each, of 1860 from which is obtained this foregoing official record of the Oregon war debt action and more particularly Gen. Lane's tribute to the great Indian Chief John and the entire fighter group in the various Rogue River Indian tribes.     Long remembered by many early settlers in Josephine County was Umpqua Joe, an Umpqua Indian, who during the Indian wars befriended and aided settlers in the vicinity of Fort Vannoy. He was the father of Indian Mary, one of the last of the Indians known locally.
    An account of the death of Umpqua Joe, who was killed in a fight with his daughter's husband, Albert Peco, because the latter had killed Joe's fine dog, was first set forth by George R. Riddle. His account of the incident was featured in the Courier's Golden Anniversary Edition in 1935.
    Because of his befriending white people during the Indian uprisings in 1855, Umpqua Joe was given a piece of land on the Rogue River below the present site of the Taylor Creek bridge on the Galice Creek Road, Mr. Riddle recalled. There Umpqua Joe operated a ferry known as the Umpqua Joe or Indian ferry. The ferry was used as a crossing for pack trains taking supplies to the Galice mining district. Mr. Riddle's recollections continue:
    "I recall Umpqua Joe visiting in Grants Pass to get supplies. At one time he met my father at our store and recognized him as "Jode" Riddle--my father's boyhood nickname, and the name by which he was always known to the Indians. Joe was at this time quite under the influence of liquor and kept repeating to my father "tell ola man"--meaning that he wanted to be remembered to my grandfather, known to the Indians as "Lomptu," their name for old man.
Given "Boston" Names
    The Indians in turn were given "Boston" names, hence such names as Umpqua Joe, Chief John, etc. Eldest of the children of Umpqua Joe was Mary, who was married to Jacksonville Pete or Jackson Petus, hence her later name of Mary Peters as recalled by long-ago Grants Pass residents.
    Mary's sister was Betsy, married to Joe Trinity, an Indian who came as a boy from the Trinity River country. Umpqua Joe's only son was known as Kelsay Joe, who, it is recalled, was killed in an altercation which started in a saloon on "G" Street. Kelsay Joe's slayer was sent to the penitentiary after a hotly contested trial.
    Of the terrific task confronting the whites as they prepared to organize a practicable defense strategy following the October '55 massacres of the 9th and 10th, Bancroft comments as follows:
    "To meet a savage enemy, well-armed and prepared for war, knowing every mountain fastness, and having always the advantage of chosen positions, was not practicable with anything like equal numbers. Estimating the fighting men of the enemy at no more than 400, it would require three or four times that number to engage them, because of their ability to appear unexpectedly at several points; at the same time to disappear as rapidly; and to wear out the horses and men of the white forces in following them."
    "J. B. Wagoner was employed as express rider from October 13 on, five days after the murder of his wife and child, as long as the first volunteer service lasted…a service full of danger and hardship." (Dowell's Oregon Indian Wars, MS, i. 63)
    "The armed men that were mustered in Rogue River Valley between the 9th and 11th of October amounted to only about 150 men, not from any want of courage, but from a want of arms."
    A footnote in the same paragraph, quoting Ambrose, notes "As in the war of 1853 the Indians have all the guns in the country. Those Indians have each a good rifle and revolver and are skillful in the use of them."