Discovery of the Yosemite - Chapters X-XII



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CHAPTER X.
A General Scout--An Indian Trap--Flying Artillery--A Narrow Escape--A 
Tragic Scene--Fortunes of War--A Scout's Description--Recovery from a 
Sudden Leap--Surrounded by Enemies.

WHILE Captain Boling was engaged in capturing the Indians we had "treed" 
on the north side of the valley, scouting parties were sent out by Lieut. 
Chandler. They spread over the valley, and search was made in every 
locality that was accessible. Discovering fresh signs on a trail I had 
unsuccessfully followed on my first visit, I pursued the traces up to a 
short distance below Mirror Lake. Being alone I divided my attention 
between the wonders of the scenery and the tracks I was following, when 
suddenly I was aroused by discovering a basket of acorns lying by the 
trail. Seeing that it was a common carrying basket, such as was generally 
used by the squaws in "packing," I at first came to the conclusion that it 
had been thrown off by some affrighted squaw in her haste to escape on my 
approach. Observing another on a trail leading toward the Talus, I felt 
confident that I had discovered the key to the hiding-place of the Indians 
we were in search of. Securing my mule with the "riata" I continued the 
search, and found several baskets before reaching the walls of the cliff, 
up which, in a kind of groove, the trail ascended. By this time I began to 
be suspicious, and thought that there was too much method in this 
distribution of acorns along the trail for frightened squaws to have made, 
and it now occurred 

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to me what Sandino had said of acorns being hulled for transportation up 
the cliffs; and these had not been hulled!

Before reaching the Talus, I observed that the foot-prints were large, and 
had been made by the males, as the toes did not turn in, as was usual with 
the squaws; and it now began to appear to me, that the acorns were only 
left to lead us into some trap; for I was aware that "warriors" seldom 
disgraced themselves by "packing," like squaws. Taking a look about me, I 
began to feel that I was venturing too far; my ambitious desire for 
further investigation vanished, and I hastened back down the trail. While 
descending, I met Lt. Gilbert of C company, with a few men. They too had 
discovered baskets, dropped by the "scared Indians," and were rushing up 
in hot pursuit, nearly capturing me. I related my discoveries, and told 
the Lieutenant of my suspicions, advising him not to be too hasty in 
following up the "lead." After I had pointed out some of the peculiarities 
of the location above us, he said with a sigh of disappointment, "By 
George! Doc. I believe you are right--you are more of an Indian than I am 
any way; I reckon we had better report this to the Captain before we go 
any further." I replied, "I am now going in to report this strategy to 
Captain Boling, for I believe he can make some flank movement and secure 
the Indians, without our being caught in this trap." But while we were 
descending to the trail, I seriously thought and believed, that Lt. 
Gilbert and his men as well as myself, had had a narrow escape. The bit of 
history of the rear guard of Charlemagne being destroyed by the Pyrenians 
flashed through my mind, and I could readily see how destructive such an 
attack might become.

After taking the precaution to secrete the baskets on the main trail, Lt. 
Gilbert, with his scouts, continued his explorations in other localities, 
saying as he left that he would warn all whom he might see "not to get 
into the trap." I 

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mounted my mule and rode down the valley in search of Captain Boling, and 
found him in an oak grove near our old camp, opposite a cliff, now known 
as "Hammo" (the lost arrow). I here learned the particulars of his 
successful capture of the five scouts of Ten-ie-ya's band, and at his 
request asked them, through Sandino, who had come over with the " kitchen 
mules," why they had so exposed themselves to our view. They replied that 
Ten-ie-ya knew of our approach before we reached the valley. That by his 
orders they were sent to watch our movements and report to him. That they 
did not think we could cross the Merced with our horses until we reached 
the upper fords; and therefore, when discovered, did not fear. They said 
that Ten-ie-ya would come in and "have a talk with the white chief when he 
knows we are here."

After repeated questioning as to where their people were, and where the 
old chief would be found if a messenger should be sent to him, they gave 
us to understand that they were to meet Ten-ie-ya near To-co-ya, at the 
same time pointing in the direction of the "North Dome." Captain Boling 
assured them that if Ten-ie-ya would come in with his people he could do 
so with safety. That he desired to make peace with him, and did not wish 
to injure any of them. The young brave was the principal spokesman, and he 
replied: "Ten-ie-ya will come in when he hears what has been said to us."

Having acquired all the information it was possible to get from the 
Indians, Capt. Boling said that in the morning he would send a messenger 
to the old chief and see if he would come in. When told this the young 
"brave" appeared to be very anxious to be permitted to go after him, 
saying: "He is there now," pointing towards the "North Dome," "another day 
he will be on the 'Skye Mountains,' or anywhere," meaning that his 
movements were uncertain.

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Capt. Boling had so much confidence in his statements, that he decided to 
send some of the scouts to the region of the North Dome for Ten-ie-ya; but 
all efforts of our allies and of ourselves, failed to obtain any further 
clue to Ten-ie-ya's hiding-place, for the captives said that they dare not 
disclose their signals or countersign, for the penalty was death, and none 
other would be answered or understood by their people. I here broke in 
upon the captain's efforts to obtain useful knowledge from his prisoners, 
by telling him of the discovery of baskets of acorns found on the trail; 
and gave him my reasons for believing it to be a design to lead us into an 
ambush--that the Indians were probably on the cliff above. I volunteered 
the suggestion that a movement in that direction would surprise them while 
watching the trap set for us.

Captain Boling replied: "It is too late in the day for a job of that kind; 
we will wait and see if Ten-ie-ya will come in. I have made up my mind to 
send two of our prisoners after him, and keep the others as hostages until 
he comes. To make a sure thing of this, Doctor, I want you to take these 
two," pointing to one of the sons and the son-in-law of Ten-ie-ya, "and go 
with them to the place where they have said a trail leads up the cliff to 
Ten-ie-ya's hiding place. You will take care that they are not molested by 
any of our boys while on this trip. Take any one with you in camp, if you 
do not care to go along."

Taking a small lunch to break my fast since the morning meal, I concluded 
to make the trip on foot; my mule having been turned loose with the heard. 
Arming myself, I started alone with the two prisoners which Capt. Boling 
had consigned to my guardianship. I kept them ahead of me on the trail, as 
I always did when traveling with any of that race. We passed along the 
westerly base of the North Dome at a rapid gait, without meeting any of my 

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comrades, and had reached a short turn in the trail around a point of 
rocks, when the Indians suddenly sprang back, and jumped behind me. From 
their frightened manner, and cry of terror, I was not apprehensive of any 
treachery on their part. Involuntarily I cried out, "Hallo! what's up 
now?" and stepped forward to see what had so alarmed them. Before me, 
stood George Fisher with his rifle leveled at us. I instantly said: "Hold 
on George! these Indians are under my care!" He determinedly exclaimed 
without change of position, "Get out of the way, Doctor, those Indians 
have got to die." Just behind Fisher was Sergeant Cameron, with a man on 
his shoulders. As he hastily laid him on the ground, I was near enough to 
see that his clothing was soiled and badly torn, and that his face, hands 
and feet were covered with blood. His eyes were glazed and bloodshot, and 
it was but too evident that he had been seriously injured. From the near 
proximity of the basket trail, I instantly surmised they had been on the 
cliff above. The scene was one I shall long remember.

It seemed but a single motion for Cameron to deposit his burden and level 
his rifle. He ordered me to stand aside if I valued my own safety. I 
replied as quietly as I could, "Hold on, boys! Captain Boling sent me to 
guard these Indians from harm, and I shall obey orders." I motioned the 
Indians to keep to my back or they would be killed. Cameron shouted: "They 
have almost killed Spencer, and have got to die. As he attempted to get 
sight, he said: "Give way, Bunnell, I don't want to hurt you." This I 
thought very condescending, and I replied with emphasis: "These Indians 
are under my charge, and I shall protect them. If you shoot you commit 
murder." The whole transaction thus far seemingly occupied but a moment's 
time, when to the surprise of us all, Spencer called my name. I moved 
forward a little, and said to them, "Throw 

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up your rifles and let me come into to see Spencer." "Come in! you are 
safe," replied Fisher--still watching the Indians with a fierce 
determination in his manner. Spencer raised himself in a sitting position, 
and at a glance seemed to take in the situation of affairs, for he said: 
"Bunnell is right; boys, don't shoot; mine is but the fortune of war;" and 
telling Cameron to call me, he again seemed to fall partly into stupor. As 
I again moved towards them with the Indians behind me, they with some 
reluctance, put up their rifles. Fisher turned his back to me as he said 
with sarcasm, "Come in with your friends, Doctor, and thank Spencer for 
their safety." They relieved their excitement with volleys of 
imprecations. Cameron said that I "was a--sight too high-toned to suit 
friends that had always been willing to stand by me."

This occurrence did not destroy good feeling toward each other, for we 
were all good friends after the excitement had passed over.

I examined Spencer and found that, although no bones were broken, he was 
seriously bruised and prostrated by the shock induced by his injuries. 
Fisher started for camp to bring up a horse or mule to carry Spencer in. I 
learned that they had fallen into the trap on the "basket trail," and that 
Spencer had been injured while ascending the cliff as I had suspected. He 
had, unfortunately, been trailed in, as I had been. The particulars 
Cameron related to me and in my hearing after we had arrived in camp. As 
the Indians represented to me that the trail they proposed to take up the 
cliff was but a little way up the north branch, I concluded to go on with 
them, and then be back in time to accompany Spencer into camp. Speaking 
some cheering words to Spencer I turned to leave, when Cameron said to 
him: "You ain't dead yet, my boy." Spencer held out his hand, and as he 
took it Cameron said, with visible emotion, 

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but emphatic declaration: "We will pay them back for this if the chance 
ever comes; Doc. is decidedly too conscientious in this affair." I 
escorted the Indians some way above "Mirror Lake," where they left the 
trail and commenced to climb the cliff.

On my return I found that Cameron had already started with Spencer; I soon 
overtook them and relieved him of his burden, and from there carried 
Spencer into camp. We found Fisher vainly trying to catch his mule. The 
most of the horses were still out with the scouts, and all animals in camp 
had been turned loose. Sergt. Cameron, while Fisher was assisting me in 
the removal of Spencer's clothing and dressing his wounds, had prepared a 
very comfortable bed, made of boughs, that the kind-hearted boys 
thoughtfully brought in; and after he was made comfortable and nourishment 
given him, the Sergeant related to Captain Boling the details of their 
adventure, which were briefly as follows: Cameron and Spencer while on 
their way back to camp discovered the baskets on the trail. Feeling 
certain that they had discovered the hiding-place of the Indians, as we 
had done, they concluded to make a reconnoisance of the vicinity before 
making a report of their discovery. Elated at their success, and 
unsuspicious of any unusual danger, they followed the trail that wound up 
the cliff, along jutting rocks that in places projected like cornices, 
until the converging walls forced them to a steep acclivity grooved in the 
smooth-worn rock. Not daunted by the difficult assent, they threw off 
their boots and started up the slippery gutter, when suddenly a huge mass 
of granite came thundering down towards them. But for a fortunate swell or 
prominence just above they would both have been swept into eternity; as it 
was, the huge rock passed over their heads; a fragment, however, struck 
Spencer's rifle from his hand and hurled him fifty feet or more 

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down the steep wall, where he lay, entirely senseless for a time, while a 
shower of rocks and stones was passing over him, the shape of the wall 
above sending them clear of his body.

Cameron was in advance, and fortunately was able to reach the shelter of a 
projecting rock. After the discharge, an Indian stretched himself above a 
detached rock, from which he had been watching his supposed victims. 
Cameron chanced to be looking that way, and instantly firing, dropped his 
man. No doubt he was killed, for the quantity of blood found afterward on 
the rock, was great. The echoing report of Cameron's rifle, brought back 
howls of rage from a number of rocks above, as if they were alive with 
demons. Anticipating another discharge from their battery, Cameron 
descended to the spot where Spencer had fallen, and taking him in his 
arms, fled out of range.

After supper, the explorers having all come in, the boys gathered around 
the Sergeant and importuned him to give the history of his adventures. 
After reflectively bringing up the scene to view, he began: "We got into 
mighty close quarters! Come to think of it, I don't see how we happened to 
let ourselves be caught in that dead-fall. I reckon we must have fooled 
ourselves some. The way of it was this. We went up on the south side as 
far as we could ride, and after rummaging around for a while, without 
finding anything, Spencer wanted to go up the North canyon and get a good 
look at that mountain with one side split off; so I told the boys to look 
about for themselves, as there were no Indians in the valley. Some of them 
went on up the South canyon, and the rest of us went over to the North 
canyon. After crossing the upper ford, Spencer and I concluded to walk up 
the canyon, so we sent our animals down to graze with the herd. Spencer 
looked a good long while at that split mountain, and called it a 'half 
dome.' I concluded 

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he might name it what he liked, if he would leave it and go to camp; for I 
was getting tired and hungry and said so. Spencer said 'All right, we'll 
go to camp.'

On our way down, as we passed that looking-glass pond, he wanted to take 
one more look, and told me to go ahead and he'd soon overtake me; but that 
I wouldn't do, so he said: "No matter, then; I can come up some other 
time." As we came on down the trail below the pond, I saw some acorns 
scattered by the side of the trail, and told Spencer there were Indians 
not far off. After looking about for a while Spencer found a basket nearly 
full behind some rocks, and in a little while discovered a trail leading 
up towards the cliff. We followed this up a piece, and soon found several 
baskets of acorns. I forgot about being hungry, and after talking the 
matter over we decided to make a sort of reconnoisance before we came in 
to make any report. Well, we started on up among the rocks until we got to 
a mighty steep place, a kind of gulch that now looked as if it had been 
scooped out for a stone battery. The trail up it was as steep as the roof 
on a meeting-house, and worn so slippery that we couldn't get a foot-hold. 
I wanted to see what there was above, and took off my boots and started 
up. Spencer did the same and followed me. I had just got to the swell of 
the steepest slope, where a crack runs across the face of the wall, and 
was looking back to see if Spencer would make the riffle, when I heard a 
crash above me, and saw a rock as big as a hogshead rolling down the cliff 
toward us. I sprang on up behind a rock that happened to be in the right 
place, for there was no time to hunt for any other shelter.

I had barely reached cover when the bounding rock struck with a crash by 
my side, and bounded clear over Spencer, who had run across the crevice 
and was stooping down and steadying himself with his rifle. A piece of the 
big rock that was 

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shattered into fragments and thrown in all directions, struck his rifle 
out of his hands, and sent him whirling and clutching down a wall fifty 
feet. He lodged out of sight, where in going up we had kicked off our 
leathers. I thought he was killed, for he did not answer when I called, 
and I had no chance then to go to him, for a tremendous shower of stones 
came rushing by me. I expected he would be terribly mangled at first, but 
soon noticed that the swell in the trail caused the rocks to bound clear 
over him onto the rocks in the valley. I looked up to see where they came 
from just as an Indian stuck his head above a rock. My rifle came up of 
its own accord. It was a quick sight, but with me they are generally the 
best, and as I fired that Indian jumped into the air with a yell and fell 
back onto the ledge. He was hit, I know, and I reckon he went west. Every 
rock above was soon a yelling as if alive. As I expected another discharge 
from their stone artillery, I slid down the trail, picked up Spencer, and 
"vamoused the ranche," just as they fired another shot of rocks down after 
us. I did not stay to see where they struck after I was out of range, for 
my rifle and Spencer took about all of my attention until safely down over 
the rocks. While I was there resting for a moment, Fisher came up the 
trail. He heard me fire and had heard the rocks tumbling down the cliff. 
Thinking some one was in trouble, he was going to find out who it was.

"We concluded at first that Spencer was done for; for his heart beat very 
slow and he was quite dumpish. We had just started for camp with him, and 
met Bunnell going out with the two Indians. I reckon we would have sent 
them on a trip down where it is warmer than up there on the mountains, if 
Spencer hadn't roused himself just then. He stopped the game. He called 
for the Doctor; but Bunnell was as stubborn as Firebaugh's mustang and 
would 

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not leave the Indians. We had to let them pass, before he would take a 
look at Spencer. Doc. is generally all right enough, but he was in poor 
business to-day. When I told him it was his own messmate, he said it 
didn't matter if it were his own brother. If Captain Boling will make a 
shooting match and put up the other three, I'll give my horse for the 
first three shots. Shooting will be cheap after that."

I have given the substance only of Sergt. Cameron's talk to the group 
around him, though but poorly imitating his style, in order to show the 
feeling that was aroused by Spencer's misfortune. Spencer's uniformly 
quiet and gentlemanly manners, made no enemies among rough comrades, who 
admired the courageous hardihood of "the little fellow," and respected him 
as a man. Many expressions of sympathy were given by the scouts who 
gathered around our tent, on learning of his injury. For some days after 
the event, he could scarcely be recognized, his face was so swollen and 
discolored. But what Spencer seemed most to regret, was the injury to his 
feet and knees, which had been cruelly rasped by the coarse granite in his 
descent.

The injury from this cause was so great, that he was unable to make those 
explorations that footmen alone could accomplish. He was an enthusiastic 
lover of nature, an accomplished scholar and man of the world. Having 
spent five years in France and Germany in the study of modern languages, 
after having acquired a high standing here in Latin and Greek.

We thought him peculiarly gifted, and hoped for something from his pen 
descriptive of the Yosemite that would endure; but he could never be 
induced to make any effort to describe any feature of the valley, saying: 
"That fools only rush in where wise men stand in awe." We were bedfellows 
and friends, and from this cause chiefly, perhaps, all 

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the incidents of his accident were strongly impressed on my memory. After 
his full recovery his feet remained tender for a long time, and he made 
but one extended exploration after his accident while in the battalion.

During the camp discussion regarding my course in saving the two captives, 
Captain Boling and myself were amused listeners. No great pains were taken 
as a rule to hide one's light under a bushel, and we were sitting not far 
off. The Captain said that he now comprehended the extreme anxiety of the 
captives to see Ten-ie-ya, as doubtless they knew of his intentions to 
roll rocks down on any who attempted to follow up that trail; and probably 
supposed we would kill them if any of us were killed. As he left our tent 
he remarked: "These hostages will have to stay in camp. They will not be 
safe outside of it, if some of the boys chance to get their eyes on them."



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CHAPTER XI.
Camp Amusements--A Lost Arrow--Escape of a Prisoner--Escape of Another--
Shooting of the Third--Indian Diplomacy--Taking His Own Medicine--Ten-ie-
ya Captured--Grief over the Death of His Son--Appetite under Adverse 
Circumstances--Poetry Dispelled--Really a Dirty Indian.

ALTHOUGH our camp was undisturbed during the night, no doubt we were 
watched from the adjacent cliffs, as in fact all our movements were. The 
captives silently occupied the places by the camp fire. They were aware of 
Spencer's mishap, and probably expected their lives might be forfeited; 
for they could see but little sympathy in the countenances of those about 
them. The reckless demonstrations of the more frolicksome boys were 
watched with anxious uncertainty. The sombre expressions and energetic 
remarks of the sympathizers of Spencer induced Captain Boling to have a 
special guard detailed from those who were not supposed to be prejudiced 
against the Indians, as it was deemed all-important to the success of the 
campaign that Ten-ie-ya should be conciliated or captured; therefore, this 
detail was designed as much for the protection of the hostages as to 
prevent their escape. The messengers had assured the Captain that Ten-ie-
ya would be in before noon, but the hostages told Sandino that possibly 
the messengers might not find him near To-co-ya, where they expected to 
meet him, as he might go a long distance away into the mountains before 
they would again see him. They 

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evidently supposed that the chief, like themselves, had become alarmed at 
the failure of his plan to draw us into ambush, and had fled farther into 
the Sierras; or else doubted his coming at all, and wished to encourage 
the Captain to hope for the coming of Ten-ie-ya that their own chances of 
escape might be improved.

Sandino professed to believe their statement, telling me that they--the 
five prisoners--expected to have trailed us up to the scene of Spencer's 
disaster; failing in which--owing to our having forced them to hide near 
the "Frog Mountains"--they still expected to meet him on the cliff where 
the rocks had been rolled down, and not at To-co-ya. In this conversation, 
the fact appeared--derived as he said indirectly from conversations with 
the prisoners--that there were projecting ledges and slopes extending 
along the cliff on the east side of Le-hamite to To-co-ya, where Indians 
could pass and re-pass, undiscovered, and all of our movements could be 
watched. The substance of this communication I gave to Captain Boling, but 
it was discredited as an impossibility; and he expressed the belief that 
the old chief would make his appearance by the hour agreed upon with his 
messengers, designated by their pointing to where the sun would be on his 
arrival in camp. Accordingly the Captain gave orders that no scouts would 
be sent out until after that time. Permission, however, was given to those 
who desired to leave camp for their own pleasure or diversion.

A few took advantage of this opportunity and made excursions up the North 
canyon to the "basket trail," with a view of examining that locality, and 
at the same time indulging their curiosity to see the place where Cameron 
and Spencer had been trailed in and entrapped by the Indians. Most of the 
command preferred to remain in camp to repair damages, rest, and to amuse 
themselves in a 

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general way. Among the recreations indulged in, was shooting at a target 
with the bows and arrows taken from the captured Indians. The bow and 
arrows of the young brave were superior to those of the others, both in 
material and workmanship. Out of curiosity some of the boys induced him to 
give a specimen of his skill. His shots were really commendable. The 
readiness with which he handled his weapons excited the admiration of the 
lookers on. He, with apparent ease, flexed a bow which many of our men 
could not bend without great effort, and whose shots were as liable to 
endanger the camp as to hit the target. This trial of skill was witnessed 
by Captain Boling and permitted, as no trouble was anticipated from it.

After this exercise had ceased to be amusing, and the most of those in 
camp had their attention engaged in other matters, the guard, out of 
curiosity and for pastime, put up the target at long range. To continue 
the sport it was necessary to bring in the arrows used, and as it was 
difficult to find them, an Indian was taken along to aid in the search. 
The young brave made a more extended shot than all others. With great 
earnestness he watched the arrow, and started with one of the guard, who 
was unarmed, to find it. While pretending to hunt for the "lost arrow," he 
made a dash from the guard toward "Indian canyon," and darted into the 
rocky Talus, which here encroached upon the valley. The guard on duty 
hearing the alarm of his comrade and seeing the Indian at full speed, 
fired at him, but without effect, as the intervening rocks and the zig-zag 
course he was running, made the shot a difficult one, withuot danger of 
hitting his comrade, who was following in close pursuit.

This aggravating incident greatly annoyed Capt. Boling, who was peculiarly 
sensitive on the subject of escaped prisoners. The verdant guard was 
reprimanded in terms more expressive than polite; and relieved from duty. 
The 

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remaining Indians were then transferred to the special care of Lt. 
Chandler, who was told by Capt. Boling to "keep them secure if it took the 
whole command to do it." The Indians were secured by being tied back to 
back, with a "riata" or picket rope, and then fastened to an oak tree in 
the middle of the camp, and the guard--a new one--stationed where they 
could constantly watch. The morning passed, and the hour of ten arrived, 
without Ten-ie-ya. Capt. Boling then sent out Sandino and the scouts to 
hunt for him, and if found, to notify him that he was expected. Sandino 
soon came back, and reported that he had seen Ten-ie-ya and talked with 
him; but that he was unable to reach him from below, on account of the 
steepness of the ledge. Sandino reported that Ten-ie-ya was unwilling to 
come in. That he expressed a determination not to go to the Fresno. He 
would make peace with the white chief if he would be allowed to remain in 
his own territory. Neither he nor his people would go to the valley while 
the white men were there. They would stay on the mountains or go to the 
Monos.

When this was communicated to Capt. Boling, he gave orders for a select 
number of scouts to make an effort to bring in the old malcontent, alive 
if possible. Lt. Chandler, therefore, with a few Noot-chu; and Po-ho-no-
chee scouts, to climb above the projecting ledge, and a few of our men to 
cut off retreat, started up the Ten-ie-ya branch, led by Sandino as guide. 
After passing the "Royal Arches," Sandino let Chandler understand that he 
and his scouts had best go up by the Wai-ack or Mirror Lake trail, in 
order to cut off Ten-ie-ya's retreat; while he went back to the rock he 
pointed out as the place where he had seen and talked with Ten-ie-ya; and 
which commanded a view of our camp. This was distasteful to Chandler; but 
after a moment's reflection said: "Let the converted knave go back to 
camp; 

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I'll act without him, and catch the old chief if he is on the mountain, 
and that without resorting to Indian trachery."

While in camp Sandino had seemed to convey some message to the hostages, 
and when asked the purport of it had answered evasively. This had 
prejudiced Chandler, but it had not surprised me, nor did it appear 
inconsistent with Sandino's loyalty to Captain Boling; but the Indian was 
unpopular. As to his code of honor and his morality, it was about what 
should have been expected of one in his position, and as a frequent 
interpreter of his interpretations and sayings, I finally told the Captain 
and Chandler that it would be best to take Sandino for what he might be 
worth; as continued doubt of him could not be disguised, and would tend to 
make a knave or fool of him. On one occasion, he was so alarmed by some 
cross looks and words given him, that he fell upon his knees and begged 
for his life, thinking, as he said afterward, that he was to be killed.

During the night, and most of the time during the day, I was engaged in 
attendance on Spencer. Doctor Black understood it to be Spencer's wish 
that I should treat him. I gave but little attention to other matters, 
although I could see from our tent everything that was going on in camp. 
Not long after the departure of Chandler and his scouts, as I was about 
leaving camp in search of balsam of fir and other medicinals, I observed 
one of the guard watching the prisoners with a pleased and self-satisfied 
expression. As I glanced toward the Indians I saw that they were 
endeavoring to untie each other, and said to two of the detail as I passed 
them, "That ought to be reported to the officer of the guard. They should 
be separated, and not allowed to tempt their fate." I was told that it was 
"already known to the officers." I was then asked if I was on guard duty. 
The significance of this I was fully able to interpret, and passed on to 
the vicinity of "The High Falls."

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On my return an hour afterwards. I noticed when nearing camp, that the 
Indians were gone from the tree to which they were tied when I left. 
Supposing that they had probably been removed for greater security, I gave 
it no further thought until, without any intimation of what had occurred 
during my short absence, I saw before me the dead body of old Ten-e-ya's 
youngest son. The warm blood still oozing from a wound in his back. He was 
lying just outside of our camp, within pistol range of the tree to which 
he had been tied.

I now comprehended the action of the guard. I learned that the other 
Indian had been fired at, but had succeeded in making his escape over the 
same ground and into the canyon where the other brave had disappeared. I 
found on expressing my unqualified condemnation of this cowardly act, that 
I was not the only one to denounce it. It was a cause of regret to nearly 
the whole command. Instead of the praise expected by the guard for the 
dastardly manner in which the young Indian was killed, they were told by 
Captain Boling that they had committed murder. Sergeant Cameron was no 
lover of Indians, but for this act his boiling wrath could hardly find 
vent, even when aided by some red hot expressions. I learned, to my 
extreme mortification, that no report had been made to any of the 
officers. The Indians had been permitted to untie themselves, and an 
opportunity had been given them to attempt to escape in order to fire upon 
them, expecting tokill them both; and only that a bullet-pouch had been 
hung upon the muzzle of one of the guard's rifles while leaning against a 
tree (for neither were on duty at the moment), no doubt both of the 
captives would have been killed.

Upon investigation, it was found that the fatal shot had been fired by a 
young man who had been led by an old Texan sinner to think that killing 
Indians or Mexicans 

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[image caption: YOSEMITE FALLS. (2,634 feet in height.)]

was a duty; and surprised at Captain Boling's view of his conduct, 
declared with an injured air, that he "would not kill another Indian if 
the woods were full of them." Although no punishment was ever inflicted 
upon the perpetrators of the act, they were both soon sent to coventry, 
and feeling their disgrace, were allowed to do duty with the packtrain. 
Captain Boling had, before the occurrence of this incident, decided to 
establish his permanent camp on the south side of the Merced. The location 
selected was near the bank of the river, in full view of, and nearly 
opposite, "The Fall." This camp was head-quarters during our stay in the 
valley, which was extended to a much longer time than we had anticipated. 
Owing to several mountain storms, our stay was prolonged over a month. 

Page 167

The bottoms, or meadow land, afforded good grazing for our animals, and we 
were there more conveniently reached by our couriers and supply-trains 
from the Fresno.

From this point our excursions were made. All Indians attach great 
importance to securing the bodies of their dead for appropriate 
ceremonials, which with these was "cremation." They with others of the 
mountain tribes in this part of California, practiced the burning of their 
dead in accordance with their belief in a future state of existence, which 
was that if the body was burned, the spirit was released and went to "the 
happy land in the west." If this ceremony was omitted, the spirit haunted 
the vicinity, to the annoyance of the friends as well as the enemies of 
the deceased. Knowing this, Captain Boling felt a desire to make some 
atonement for the unfortunate killing of the son of Ten-ie-ya, the chief 
of the tribe with whom he was endeavoring to "make peace," and therefore 
made his arrangements to take advantage of this custom to propitiate the 
Indians by giving them an opportunity to remove the body of the youth. 
Accordingly, the order was at once given to break camp.

While the pack animals were being loaded, Lt. Chandler with his party 
brought in Ten-ie-ya. The Indian scouts, who were first sent out with 
Sandino and who knew where the talk with the chief had been held, passed 
on in advance and saw that he was still at his perch, watching the 
movements below him. Some of those out on leave discovered him also, 
seated on a ledge that appeared only accessible from above. The Pohonochee 
scouts, thinking to capture him by cutting off his retreat, followed an 
upper trail and reached the summit of the wall, while a few of Chandler's 
men, who were apprized of the situation by some of the pleasure-seekers 
whom they met, took a lower trail, and thus were in advance of the Indian 
scouts when Ten-ie-ya's 

Page 168

retreat was reached. To their disappointment, the old chief could not be 
found, though at intervals fresh signs and heaps of stones were seen along 
the south-western slope of the mountain.

The sequel to the disappearance of Ten-ie-ya, as explained by Sandino, was 
simply as follows: When sent back by Chandler, Sandino resolved to make 
another effort to induce Ten-ie-ya to come in, lest Chandler should kill 
him if found. Accordingly he again climbed to the foot of the old chief's 
perch, and was talking with him, when some small loose stones came rolling 
down towards them. Seeing that his retreat above had been cut off, Ten-ie-
ya at first ran along westerly, on the slope of the mountain towards 
Indian canyon; but finding that he was cut off in that direction also, by 
the Neut-chu and Po-ho-no-chee scouts, he turned and came down a trail 
through an oak tree-top to the valley, which Sandino had by this time 
reached, and where he had been attracted by the noise made in the pursuit. 
Lt. Chandler had not climbed up the trail, and hearing Sandino's cry for 
help, and the noise above him, he was able to reach the place when Ten-ie-
ya descended, in time to secure him. Ten-ie-ya said the men above him were 
rolling stones down, and he did not like to go up, as they broke and flew 
everywhere; for that reason he came down.

Ten-ie-ya accompanied his captors without making any resistance, although 
he strongly censured the Indians for being instrumental in his capture. 
They did not reach the valley in time to take part in the capture, but as 
Ten-ie-ya had said: "It was their cunning that had discovered the way to 
his hiding place."

None of the party of explorers or those under Chandler were aware of the 
event that had occurred during their absence. As Ten-ie-ya walked toward 
the camp, proudly conscious of being an object of attention from us, his 
eye fell 

Page 169

upon the dead body of his favorite son, which still lay where he had 
fallen, without having been disturbed. He halted for a moment, without 
visible emotion, except a slight quivering of his lips. As he raised his 
head, the index to his feelings was exhibited in the glaring expression of 
deadly hate with which he gazed at Capt. Boling, and cast his eyes over 
the camp as if in search of the remains of the other son, the fellow 
captive of the one before him. Captain Boling expressed his regret of the 
occurrence, and had the circumstances explained to him, but not a single 
word would he utter in reply; not a sound escaped his compressed lips. He 
pasively accompanied us to our camp on the south side of the river. It was 
evident that every movement of ours was closely scrutinized. Sandino was 
instructed to notify the chief that the body could be taken away. This 
permission was also received in silence.

Upon riding over to the camp ground the next morning, it was found that 
the body had been carried up or secreted in Indian canyon; as all of the 
tracks led that way. This ravine became known to us as "Indian canyon," 
though called by the Indians "Le-Hamite," "the arrow wood." It was also 
known to them by the name of "Scho-tal-lo-wi," meaning the way to "Fall 
Creek." The rocks near which we were encamped, between "Indian canyon" and 
"The Falls," were now called by the Po-ho-no-chee scouts who were with us, 
"Hammo," or "Ummo," "The Lost Arrow," in commemoration of the event. On 
the morning following the capture of Ten-ie-ya, Capt. Boling tried to have 
a talk with him; but he would not reply to a question asked through the 
interpreter; neither would he converse with Sandino or the Indians with 
us. He maintained this moody silence and extreme taciturnity for several 
days afterwards.

Finding that nothing could be accomplished through the 

Page 170

old chief, Captain Boling gave orders to re-commence our search for his 
people. Scouting parties were started on foot to explore as far as was 
practicable on account of the snow. Although it was now May, the snow 
prevented a very extended search in the higher Sierras. On the first day 
out these parties found that, although they had made a faithful and active 
search, they had not performed half they had planned to do when starting. 
Distances were invariably under-estimated. This we afterward found was the 
case in all of our excursions in the mountains, where we estimated 
distance by the eye; and calling attention to the phenomena, I tried to 
have the principle applied to heights as well. The height of the 
mountainous cliffs, and the clear atmosphere made objects appear near, but 
the time taken to reach them convinced us that our eyes had deceived us in 
our judgment of distance. To avoid the severe labor that was imposed upon 
us by carrying our provisions and blankets, an attempt was made to use 
pack-mules, but the circuitous route we were compelled to take consumed 
too much time; besides the ground we were desirous of going over was 
either too soft and yielding, or too rocky and precipitous. We were 
compelled to leave the mules and continue our explorations on foot. Later 
in the season there would have been no difficulty in exploring the 
mountains on horse-back, if certain well established routes and passes 
were kept in view; but aside from these our Indian guides could give us 
little or no information. This we accounted for upon the theory that, as 
there was no game of consequence in the higher Sierras, and the cold was 
great as compared with the lower altitudes, the Indians knowledge of the 
"Higher Sierras" was only acquired while passing over them, or while 
concealed in them from the pursuit of their enemies. All scouting parties 
were, therefore, principally dependent upon 

Page 171

their own resources, and took with them a supply of food and their 
blankets for a bivouac. In this way much time and fatigue of travel was 
saved. Some were more adventurous than others in their explorations. 
These, on returning from a scout of one or more days out, would come in 
ragged and foot-sore, and report with enthusiasm their adventures, and the 
wonders they had seen. Their descriptions around the camp fire at night 
were at first quite exciting; but a few nights' experience in the vicinity 
of the snow-line, without finding Indians, soon cooled down the ardor of 
all but a very few, who, from their persistent wandering explorations, 
were considered somewhat eccentric.

Through our Indian scouts, we learned that some of the Yosemites had gone 
to the Tuolumne. These were Tuolumne Indians who had intermarried with the 
Yosemites, and had been considered as a part of Ten-ie-ya's band. Taking 
their women and children, they returned to the Tuolumne tribe as soon as 
it was known that Ten-ie-ya had been captured; fearing he would again 
promise to take his band to the Fresno. Our orders prohibited us from 
disturbing the Tuolumne Indians; we therefore permitted them to return to 
their allegiance without attempting to follow them.

Ten-ie-ya was treated with kindness, and as his sorrow for the loss of his 
son seemed to abate, he promised to call in some of his people, and abide 
by their decision, when they had heard the statements of Capt. Boling. At 
night he would call as if to some one afar off. He said his people were 
not far from our camp and could hear his voice. We never heard a reply, 
although the calls were continued by order of Capt. Boiling for many 
nights.

Although he was closely watched by the camp guard, he made an attempt to 
escape while the guard's back was momentarily turned upon him. Sergt. 
Cameron, who had 

Page 172

especial charge of him at the time, saw his movement, and as he rushed 
from his keeper, Cameron dashed after and caught him before he was able to 
plunge into and swim the river.

As Ten-ie-ya was brought into the presence of Capt. Boling by Sergt. 
Cameron, after this attempt to escape, he supposed that he would now be 
condemned to be shot. With mingled fear of the uncertainty of his life 
being spared, and his furious passion at being foiled in his attempt to 
regain his liberty, he forgot his usual reserve and shrewdness. His grief 
for the loss of his son and the hatred he entertained toward Copt. Boling, 
who he considered as responsible for his death, was uppermost in his 
thoughts, and without any of his taciturn, diplomatic style he burst forth 
in lamentations and denunciations, given in a loud voice and in a style of 
language and manner of delivery which took us all by surprise. In his 
excitement, he made a correct use of many Spanish words, showing that he 
was more familiar with them than he had ever admitted even to Sandino; but 
the more emphatic expressions were such as may often be heard used by the 
muleteers of Mexico and South America, but are not found in the Lexicons. 
As he approached Capt. Boling, he began in a highly excited tone: "Kill 
me, sir Captain! Yes, kill me, as you killed my son; as you would kill my 
people if they were to come to you! You would kill all my race if you had 
the power. Yes, sir, American, you can now tell your warriors to kill the 
old chief; you have made me sorrowful, my life dark; you killed the child 
of my heart, why not kill the father? But wait a little; when I am dead I 
will call to my people to come to you, I will call louder than you have 
had me call; that they shall hear me in their sleep, and come to avenge 
the death of their chief and his son. Yes, sir, American, my spirit will 
make trouble for you and your people, as you have caused trouble 

Page 173

to me and my people. With the wizards, I will follow the white men and 
make them fear me." He here aroused himself to a sublime frenzy, and 
completed his rhapsody by saying: "You may kill me, sir, Captain, but you 
shall not live in peace. I will follow in your foot-steps, I will not 
leave my home, but be with the spirits among the rocks, the water-falls, 
in the rivers and in the winds; wheresoever you go I will be with you. You 
will not see me, but you will fear the spirit of the old chief, and grow 
cold.(*) The great spirits have spoken! I am done."

Captain Boling allowed the old orator to finish his talk without 
interruption. Although he did not fully understand him, he was amused at 
his earnest style and impetuous gestures. On hearing it interpreted, he 
humorously replied: "I comprehended the most of what he said. The old 
chief has improved. If he was only reliable he would make a better 
interpreter than Sandino. As for speech-making, Doc., I throw up. The old 
Pow-wow can beat me all hollow." Ten-ie-ya earnestly watched the 
countenance of the good natured Captain, as if to learn his decision in 
the matter. The Captain observing him, quietly said: "Sergeant Cameron! 
the old sachem looks hungry, and as it is now about supper time, you had 
better give him an extra ration or two, and then see that he is so secured 
that he will not have a chance to escape from us again."

I watched the old incorrigible while he was delivering this eloquent 
harangue (which, of course, is necessarily a free translation) with 
considerable curiosity. Under the excitement of the moment he appeared 
many years younger. With his vigorous old age he displayed a latent power 
which was before unknown to us. I began to feel a sort of 

(* It is claimed by all Indian "Medicine Men" that the presence of a 
spirit is announced by a cool breeze, and that sometimes they turn cold 
and shake as with an ague.)

Page 174

veneration for him. My sympathies had before been aroused for his sorrow, 
and I now began to have almost a genuine respect for him; but as I passed 
him half an hour afterwards, the poetry of his life appeared changed. He 
was regaling himself on fat pork and beans from a wooden dish which had 
been brought to him by order of Cameron. This he seemed to enjoy with an 
appetite of a hungry animal. His guard had provided his wooden bowl and 
ladle by chipping them out of an alder tree, but failing to finish them 
smoothly, they could not be properly washed; but this fact seemed not to 
disturb his relish for the food. As I looked at his enjoyment of the 
loaded dish, I now saw only a dirty old Indian. The spiritual man had 
disappeared. I addressed him in Spanish, but not a word of reply; instead 
he pointed to his ear, thereby indicating that he was deaf to the 
language. Afterwards he even repudiated his "Medicineship."



Page 175

CHAPTER XII.
Bears and Other Game--Sickness of Captain Boling--Convalescence and 
Determination--A Guess at Heights--A Tired Doctor and a Used-up Captain--
Surprising an Indian--Know-nothingness, or Native Americanism--A Clue and 
Discovery--A Short-cut to Camp, but an Unpopular Route.

CONSIDERABLE hilarty has been exhibited by modern visitors when told that 
the Yosemite and its environs were once the favorite resort of the grizzly 
bear. After these visitors have returned to New York or Boston, they tell 
the public not to be afraid of bears, as they were quite harmless; rather 
inclined to become domestic, etc. That is well enough now, perhaps, 
although grizzlies may yet be found; but at the date of the discovery; 
their trails were as large and numerous, almost, as cow-paths in a western 
settlement. Several bears were seen by us, and one was killed. The Yo-sem-
i-tes used to capture these monsters by lying in wait for them on some 
rock or in some tree that commanded their thoroughfare, and after the bear 
had been wounded, all the dogs in the village were turned loose upon him. 
After being brought to bay, he was dispatched with arrows or the spear. A 
medium sized terrier or two will so annoy a large grizzly, keeping out of 
his way in the meantime, that he is apt to become stubborn and stand his 
ground.

In such cases, there is less danger to the hunter. I have known of two 
being killed in this way at short range. The approach of the hunter was 
disregarded by the bear. Their 

Page 176

hams had been so bitten by the dogs that they dared not run, for fear of a 
fresh attack. I killed a large one as he came out of the Merced river, a 
little above where the town of Merced has since been built, and the same 
day, being in a whale-boat, I had to back from an old she-bear and her two 
cubs, encountered in a short turn of the river. I tried to kill these 
also, but my rifle had got soaked in the rain that was pouring at the 
time; as for the pistol shots, fired by some of the oarsmen, they only 
seemed to increase her speed, and that of her cubs, as they reached the 
shore and plunged through the willows. I had, previous to the killing of 
the grizzly, killed a large black bear with a rifle of small calibre, and 
gaining confidence, I attacked the grizzly, and was fortunate in cutting a 
renal-artery, from which the bear soon bled to death; but upon viewing the 
huge monster, I fully realized the folly of an open attack upon this kind 
of game, and ever afterwards, so far as I could, when alone, avoided their 
noted haunts. With all my caution and dread of an unexpected encounter 
with them, I met several face to face during mountain explorations; but 
invariably, they seemed as anxious to get away from me as I was that they 
should do so. Once while manoeuvering to get a shot at a deer, a grizzly 
came out in full view but a few yards in advance of me. I was tempted to 
give him a shot, but as I had no refuge of dog or tree, if I made a poor 
shot, and knowing that I was not seen by the bear, I did not molest him, 
but felt relieved as he entered a chinquepin thicket, and if there had 
been fifty of them, no doubt they might have all gone without my saying a 
word.

I have seen a good deal of nonsense in print about bears, but will venture 
to give these incidents. Joel H. Brooks and John Kenzie, ex-members of 
"The Battalion," were the least susceptible to fear of them, of any 
persons I ever 

Page 177

knew. Their skill as marksmen, was something wonder-derful. They used to 
go through a drill on foot, firing at some imaginary grizzly, then with a 
representative shot, the bear was wounded, and pursuing them; they would 
turn and flee, loading their rifles as they ran, and then turn and fire 
with deliberation at the imaginary bear in pursuit.

This theory of bear hunting, they determined to put into practice, and 
after the close of the Indian war, and the disbanding of the battalion, 
they established themselves in a camp near the Tehon Pass, a locality even 
more famous for bears than the Yosemite. They were successful, killed a 
number, and were daily acquiring more confidence in the practicability of 
their theory and plans of attack; when one day, while Kenzie was out 
hunting by himself, he unexpectedly met a huge grizzly face to face; both 
were for a moment startled.

Contrary to the usual, and almost invariable, habit of the bear when 
surprised or about to attack, he did not rise upon his hind feet; but 
instead of affording Kenzie the advantage of the usual opportunity to aim 
at the small, light-colored spot on his neck, which, if centered, is 
instant death to the animal, the bear made a direct dash for the hunter. 
Seeing his peril, Kenzie at once fired with all the deliberation the 
urgency of the occasion would permit. The shot proved a fatal one, but 
before Kenzie could avoid the furious charge of the animal, he was fatally 
injured by blows from the terrible monster. His bowels were literally torn 
out; he was unfortunate in being tripped by the tangled brush, or he might 
have escaped, as the bear fell dead with his first charge, Kenzie 
succeeded in dragging himself to their camp. He described the locality of 
the adventure, and requested Brooks to go and bring in the liver of the 
bear. He said it would afford him some consolation to eat more of the bear 
than the bear had been able to eat of him. 

Page 178

Brooks brought in and cooked some of the liver, fully gratifying Kenzie's 
whim; but it was the hunter's last poor triumph--he died soon after. 
Brooks swore off from this method of hunting, at least for a season, and 
accepted a position offered him at the Indian Agency.

Another member of our battalion killed a grizzly that for a time made him 
quite famous as a bear-fighter. As this man was an Indian, an attempt has 
been made to weave the incident into a legend, giving the honor of the 
combat to one of the Yosemites. The truth is, that a full-blooded 
Cherokee, known as "Cherokee Bob," or Robert Brown, wounded a grizzly, and 
to keep the bear from entering a thicket, set his dog on the game. While 
"Bob" was reloading his rifle, and before he could get the cap on, the 
bear, disregarding the dog, charged upon Bob, and bore him to the ground. 
The dog instantly attacked the bear, biting his hams most furiously. The 
grizzly turned from Brown and caught the dog with his paw, holding him as 
a cat would hold a mouse. By this means Bob was released, and but slightly 
bruised. In an instant he drew his hunting knife and plunged it to the 
heart of the bear, and ended the contest. The dog was seriously injured, 
but Bob carried him in his arms to camp, and attended his wounds as he 
would a comrade's or as he might have done his own. As "Cherokee Bob's" 
bear fight was a reality known to his comrades, I have noticed it here.

The various routes to the Yosemite are now so constantly traveled that 
bears will rarely be seen. They possess a very keen scent, and will avoid 
all thoroughfares traveled by man, unless very hungry; they are compelled 
to search for food. Strange as it may appear to some, the ferocious 
grizzly can be more reliably tamed and domesticated than the black bear. A 
tame grizzly at Monterey, in 1849, was allowed the freedom of the city. 
Capt. Chas. M. Webber, 

Page 179

the original proprietor of the site of Stockton, had two that were kept 
chained. They became very tame. One of these, especially tame, would get 
loose from time to time and roam at will over the city. The new 
inhabitants of Stockton seemed not to be inspired by that faith in his 
docility and uprightness of character that possessed the owner, for they 
found him ravenously devouring a barrel of sugar that belonged to one of 
the merchants, and refused to give up any portion of it. This offended the 
grocer, and he sent word to Mr. Webber to come and remove his truant 
thief. The Captain came, paid for the damaged sugar, and giving him, like 
a spoiled child, some of the sweets he had confiscated to induce him to 
follow, led the bear home. But bruin remembered his successful foray, and 
breaking his chain again and again, and always returning to the merchant's 
premises for sugar, Mr. Webber rid himself and the community of the 
annoyance by disposing of his grizzlies.

During a hunt in company with Col. Byron Cole, Messrs. Kent, Long and 
McBrien of San Francisco, I caught a good sized cub, and Mr. Long, with a 
terrier dog, caught another; the mother of which was killed by the 
unerring aim of McBrien. These cubs were taken by Cole and McBrien to San 
Francisco on their return, and sent to New York. I was told that they 
became very tame. I hope they did, for the comfort and security of their 
keepers; for in my first efforts to tame a grizzly, I became somewhat 
prejudiced against bear training as an occupation. Not long after my 
experience, I heard of poor Lola Montez being bitten by one she was 
training at Grass Valley for exhibition in Europe; and I now lost all 
faith in their reported docility and domestic inclinations. The California 
lion, like the wolf, is a coward, and deserves but little notice. Among 
the visitors to the Yosemite, some will probably be interested in knowing 
where to find the game: fish, birds and 

Page 180

animals, that may yet remain to gratify the sportsmen's love of the rod 
and the chase. Most of the game has been killed or driven off by the 
approach of civilization. Deer and occasionally a grizzly, cinnamon or 
black bear may be found on the slopes of the Tuolumne, Merced, Fresno and 
San Joaquin, and on all the rivers and mountains south of these streams. 
The cinnamon bear of California is much larger than the common brown bear 
of the Rocky Mountains.

The blue black-tailed deer of California are distinct from the black tuft-
tailed deer of the eastern ranges; a very marked difference will be 
observed in their horns and ears. This distinction has been noticed by 
naturalists; but the species are often confounded in newspaper 
correspondence. The habits of the California deer are more goat-like; they 
are wilder, and more easily startled than the "mule-eared" deer of the 
Rockies, and when alarmed, they move with the celerity of the white-tailed 
Virginia deer. The bare, tuft-tailed and big-eared Rocky Mountain deer, 
seem but little alarmed by the report of a gun; and their curiosity is 
nearly equal to that of the antelope.

The California deer are still abundant upon the spurs of the Sierras 
during their migrations to and from the foothills. These migrations occur 
during the Autumn and Spring. As the rainy season sets in, they leave the 
higher mountains for the foot-hills and plains, keeping near the snow 
line, and as the Spring advances, they follow back the receding snow to 
the high Sierras and the Eastern Slope, but seldom or never descend to the 
plain below. On account of these migratory habits, they will most likely 
endure the assaults of the sportsmen. The haunts of the grizzly are the 
same as those of the deer, for they alike prefer the bushy coverts to the 
more open ground, except when feeding. The deer prefer as food the foliage 
of shrubs and weeds to the richest grasses, and the bear prefers clover, 
roots, ants 

Page 181

and reptiles; but both fatten principally on acorns, wild rye and wild 
oats.

California grouse are found in the vicinity of the Yosemite. During the 
months of July and August they were formerly found quite numerous 
concealed in the grass and sedges of the valley and the little Yosemite; 
but as they are much wilder than the prairie chicken, they shun the haunts 
of man, and are now only found numerous in mid-summer upon or bordering on 
the mountain meadows and in the timber, among the pine forests, where they 
feed upon the pine seeds and mistletoe, which also afford them ample 
concealment. Their ventriloquial powers are such that while gobbling their 
discordant notes, they are likely to deceive the most experience ear. It 
is almost impossible to feel quite sure as to which particular tree the 
grouse is in without seeing it. He seems to throw his voice about, now to 
this tree and now to that, concealing himself the while until the 
inexperienced hunter is deluded into the belief that the trees are full of 
grouse, when probably there is but one making all the noise. His attention 
having been diverted, the hunter is left in doubt from sheer conflicting 
sounds as to which particular tree he saw a bird alight in. It is 
generally pretty sure to "fetch the bird," if you shoot into the bunch of 
mistletoe into which you supposed you saw the grouse alight.

Beside the mountain grouse and mountain quail, among the most beautiful of 
birds, that afford the sportsman a diversity of sport, an occasional flock 
of pigeons, of much larger size than those of the Atlantic States, will 
attract attention; though I have never seen them in very large flocks. In 
most of the mountain streams, and their branches, brook trout are quite 
abundant. They are not, however, so ravenously accommodating, as to bite 
just when they are wanted. I learned from the Indians that they would bite 

Page 182

best in foaming water, when they were unable to see the angler, or the 
bait distinctly; their curiosity stimulating their appetites. It is 
important that the trout do not see the angler, and when very wary, the 
rod even should not be conspicuous. Below the canyon of the Yosemite, 
young salmon were once abundant. The Indians used to catch fish in weirs 
made of brush and stones; but during the extensive mining operations on 
the Merced and other rivers, the salmon seemed to have almost abandoned 
their favorite haunts, for the mud covered spawn would not hatch. Large 
salmon were speared by the Indians in all the rivers, with a curious bone 
spear of but one tine, while the smaller fry were caught in their weirs. 
In the Tulare lakes and in the San Joaquin, King's, Kern and other rivers, 
fish, frogs and turtle are abundant, and water fowl literally swarm during 
the winter months in many parts of California.

Among the foot-hills of the Sierra Nevada, as well as in all the lesser 
mountain ranges, may be found the common California blue quail, and a very 
curious brush or chapparel cock, known to the Spanish residents of 
California and Mexico as "El Paisano" (The Countryman), and as the "Correo 
Camino" (Road-runner), and to ornithologists as the Geo-coc cyx 
Californicus.(*) They have received the name of "countryman" because of 
their inclination to run like country children at the sight of strangers, 
and that of "road-runner" from the habit of frequenting roads and trails, 
for the purpose of wallowing in the dust, and when alarmed darting off 
along the road with the speed of an ostrich or wild turkey. The object 
they have in wallowing in the dust is like that of the ruffled grouse, 
which indulge in the same practice--they sun themselves and at the same 
time are rid of vermin. Trusting to their legs to escape when alarmed, 
they take the open ground--the road--until outrunning pursuit they hide in 
the chapparel, and thus

(* Known as the Mexican Pheasant, though not very good to eat.)

Page 183

acquire the name of "road-runner" or "chapparel cock"

I have never seen any ruffled grouse in the Sierra Nevada, but a species 
of these fine birds, are quite abundant in Oregon and Washington 
territory. I have been able to solve a question regarding them, upon which 
naturalists have disagreed, that is, as to how they drum. Whether the 
sound is produced by the wings in concussive blows upon their bodies, the 
air, logs or rocks? I am able to say from personal and careful 
observation, that the sound of "drumming," is made, like the sound of the 
"night jar," exclusively by a peculiar motion of the wings in the air. It 
is true, the American "pheasant" or American "partridge," commonly stands 
upon a log while drumming, but I have watched them while perched upon a 
dry small branch or twig, drum for hours most sonorously, calling upon 
their rivals to encounter them, and their mistresses to come and witness 
their gallantry. Darwin has aptly said: "The season of love, is that of 
battle." Notwithstanding the acuteness of observation of Mr. Darwin, he 
has been led into error in his statement that wild horses "do not make any 
danger signals." They snort and paw the earth with impatience, when they 
cannot discover the cause of their alarm, and almost invariably circle to 
the leeward of the object that disturbes them. A mule is the best of 
sentinels to alarm a camp on the approach of danger. Deer and elk whistle 
and strike the earth perpendicularly with their feet when jumping up to 
discover the cause of alarm. Deer and antelope are both so inquisitive, 
that if the hunter has not been seen, or has been but imperfectly seen, by 
dropping into the grass or brush, and raising some object to view and 
suddenly withdrawing it, the deer or antelope will frequently come up 
within a few feet of the object. Antelope are especially curious to know 
what disturbs them.

The coyotes, or small wolves, and the grey or tree 

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climbing foxes of California, make a kind of barking noise, more like the 
bark of a small dog than the howl of a wolf, and therefore barking is not 
so much of "an acquired" art as has been supposed, though the "laughter" 
of dogs is more or less acquired.

The whistle of the elk is as complete a call to his mistress, and is as 
well understood, as though the female had said, "Whistle and I'll come to 
you." Elk and antelope are still to be found in California, as well as 
wild horses, but they are now quite timid, and resort to unfrequented 
ranges. The best hunting now to be found in California, except for water-
fowl, is in the region of Kern River. Near its source big-horn or mountain 
sheep may be killed, and from along the base of the eastern slope, 
antelope range into the desert. Deer and bear may be found on either slope 
of the range, and among the broken hills south of the head of Tulare 
valley.

Wolves, foxes, badgers, coons, and other fur-clothed animals, are also 
quite numerous. I have dared to question some of Mr. Darwin's facts, and 
as I expect this to be my last literary effort (oh, ye reviewers!), I wish 
to remind the publishers of Webster's Dictionary that a beaver is not an
"amphibious" animal, neither is a muscalonge "an over-grown pickerel."

A few days after we had moved camp to the south side of the Merced, 
Captain Boling was prostrated with an attack of pneumonia. From frequent 
wettings received while crossing the ice-cold torrents, and a too free use 
of this snow-water, which did not agree with many, he had for some days 
complained of slight illness, but after this attack he was compelled to 
acknowledge himself sick. Although the severe symptoms continued but a few 
days, his recovery was lingering, and confined him to camp; consequently 
he knew but little of his rocky surroundings. 

Page 185

Although regular reports were made to him by the scouting parties, he had 
but an imperfect conception of the labors performed by them in clambering 
over the rocks of the canyons and mountains. He would smile at the reports 
the more enthusiastic gave of the wonders discovered; patiently listen to 
the complaints of the more practical at their want of success in, what 
they termed, their futile explorations; and finally concluded to suspend 
operations until the fast-melting snow had so disappeared from the high 
mountain passes as to permit our taking a supply-train, in order to make 
our search thorough. The winter had been an unusually dry and cold one--so 
said the Indians--and, as a consequence, the accumulations of snow in the 
passes and lake basins had remained almost intact. A succession of 
mountain storms added to the drifts, so that when the snow finally began 
to melt, the volume of water coming from the "High Sierras" was simply 
prodigious--out of all proportion to the quantity that had fallen upon the 
plains below.

Sandino persisted in trying to make the Captain believe that most of the 
Yosemites had already gone through the Mono Pass, and that those remaining 
hidden, were but the members of Ten-ie-ya's family. This theory was not 
accepted by Capt. Boling, and occasional scouting parties would still be 
sent out. A few of us continued to make short excursions, more for 
adventure and to gratify curiosity, than with the expectation of 
discovering the hiding places of the Indians; although we kept up the form 
of a search. We thus became familiar with most of the objects of interest.

The more practical of our command could not remain quiet in camp during 
this suspension of business. Beside the ordinary routine of camp duties, 
they engaged in athletic sports and horse-racing. A very fair race track 
was 

Page 186

cleared and put in condition, and some of the owners of fast horses were 
very much surprised, to see their favorites trailing behind some of the 
fleet-footed mules. A maltese Kentucky blooded mule, known as the "Vining 
Mule," distanced all but one horse in the command, and so pleased was 
Capt. Boling with its gracefully supple movements, that he paid Vining for 
it a thousand dollars in gold.

For a change of amusement, the members of our "Jockey Club" would mount 
their animals and take a look at such points of interest as had been 
designated in our camp-fire conversations as most remarkable. The scenery 
in the Yosemite and vicinity, which is now familiar to so many, was at 
that time looked upon with varied degrees of individual curiosity and 
enjoyment, ranging from the enthusiastic, to almost a total indifference 
to the sublime grandeur presented. It is doubtful if any of us could have 
given a very graphic description of what we saw, as the impressions then 
received were so far below the reality. Distance, height, depth and 
dimensions were invariably under-estimated; notwithstanding this, our 
attempts at descriptions after our return to the settlements, were 
received as exaggerated "yarns."

While in Mariposa, upon one occasion not very long after the discovery of 
Yosemite, I was solicited by Wm. T. Whitachre, a newspaper correspondent 
from San Francisco, to furnish him a written description of the Valley. 
This, of course, was beyond my ability to do; but I disinterestedly 
complied with his request as far as I could, by giving him some written 
details to work upon. On reading the paper over, he advised me to reduce 
my estimates of heights of cliffs and waterfalls, at least fifty per 
centum, or my judgment would be a subject of ridicule even to my personal 
friends. I had estimated El Capitan at from fifteen hundred to two 
thousand feet high; the Yosemite Fall at about fifteen hundred feet, and 
other prominent points of interest in about the same proportion.

Page 187

To convince me of my error of judgment, he stated that he had interviewed 
Captain Boling and some others, and that none had estimated the highest 
cliffs above a thousand feet. He further said that he would not like to 
risk his own reputation as a correspondent, without considerable 
modification of my statements, etc. Feeling outraged at this imputation, I 
tore up the manuscript, and left the "newspaper man" to obtain where he 
could such data for his patrons as would please him. It remained for those 
who came after us to examine scientifically, and to correctly describe 
what we only observed as wonderful natural curiosities. With but few 
exceptions, curiosity was gratified by but superficial examination of the 
objects now so noted. We were aware that the valley was high up in the 
regions of the Sierra Nevada, but its altitude above the sea level was 
only guessed at. The heights of its immense granite walls was an 
uncertainty, and so little real appreciation was there in the battalion, 
that some never climbed above the Vernal Fall. They knew nothing of the 
beauties of the Nevada Fall, or the "Little Yosemite." We, as a body of 
men, were aware that the mountains, canyons and waterfalls were on a 
grandly extensive scale, but of the proportions of that scale we had 
arrived at no very definite conclusions.

During our explorations of the Sierras, we noticed the effects of the huge 
avalanches of snow and ice that had in some age moved over the smooth 
granite rocks and plowed the deep canyons. The evidences of past glacial 
action were frequently visible; so common, in fact, as hardly to be 
objects of special interest to us. The fact that glaciers in motion 
existed in the vast piles of snow on the Sierras, was not dreamed of by 
us, or even surmised by others, until discovered, in 1870, by Mr. John 
Muir, a naturalist and most persistent mountain explorer, who by accurate 
tests verified the same, and gave his facts to the world. Mr. 

Page 188

Muir has also brought into prominent notice, by publications in 
"Scribner's Monthly Illustrated Magazine," some of the beautiful lakes of 
the Sierras, having discovered many unknown before. Mr. Muir's 
descriptions combine the most delightful imagery with the accuracy of a 
true lover of nature. His article upon the water-auszel, "The humming-bird 
of the California waterfalls," in the same magazine, proves him a most 
accomplished observer.

All of the smaller streams that pour their tribute into the valley during 
the melting of the snow, become later in the season but dry ravines or 
mere rivulets, but the principal tributaries, running up, as they do, into 
the lake and snow reservoirs, continue throughout the dry season to pour 
their ample supply. After returning from my mountain explorations, I 
freely questioned Ten-ie-ya of the places we had visited. The old chief 
had gradually assumed his customary manner of sociability, and if 
convinced by outline maps in the sand that we were familiar with a 
locality, he would become quite communicative, and give the names of the 
places described in distinct words. Our English alphabet utterly fails to 
express the sounds of many of them, for they were as unpronounceable as 
Apache. This difficulty is owing more or less to the guttural termination 
given by the Indians.

Another important fact which causes a confusion of these names is, that 
owing to the poverty of their language, they use the same word, or what 
seems to be the same, for several objects, which by accent, comparison and 
allusion, or by gestures, are readily understood by them, but which it is 
difficult for one not familiar with the dialect to comprehend, and still 
more difficult to illustrate or remember. This I shall endeavor to 
demonstrate in giving the names applied to different localities in the 
valley and vicinity.

While I was endeavoring to ascertain the names of 

Page 189

localities from Ten-ie-ya, he was allowed some privileges in camp, but was 
not permitted to leave his guard. The cunning old fellow watched his 
opportunity, and again made an attempt to escape by swimming the river; 
but he was again foiled, and captured by the watchfulness and surprising 
strength of Sergeant Cameron.

From this time Ten-ie-ya was secured by a rope which was fastened around 
his waist. The only liberty allowed was the extent of the rope with which 
he was fastened. He was a hearty feeder, and was liberally supplied. From 
a lack of sufficient exercise, his appetite cloyed, and he suffered from 
indigestion. He made application to Captain Boling for permission to go 
out from camp to the place where the grass was growing, saying the food he 
had been supplied with was too strong; that if he did not have grass he 
should die. He said the grass looked good to him, and there was plenty of 
it. Why then should he not have it, when dogs were allowed to eat it?

The Captain was amused at the application, with its irony, but surmised 
that he was meditating another attempt to leave us; however, he good 
humoredly said: "He can have a ton of fodder if he desires it, but I do 
not think it advisable to turn him loose to graze." The Captain consented 
to the Sergeant's kindly arrangements to tether him, and he was led out to 
graze upon the young clover, sorrel, bulbous roots and fresh growth of 
ferns which were then springing up in the valley, one species of which we 
found a good salad. All of these he devoured with the relish of a hungry 
ox. Occasionally truffles or wood-mushrooms were brought him by Sandino 
and our allies, as if in kindly sympathy for him, or in acknowledgment of 
his rank. Such presents and a slight deference to his standing as a chief, 
were always received with grunts of satisfaction. He was easily flattered 
by any extra attentions to his pleasure. At 

Page 190

such times he was singularly amiable and conversational. Like many white 
men, it was evident that his more liberal feelings could be the easiest 
aroused through his stomach.

Our supplies not being deemed sufficient for the expedition over the 
Sierras, and as those verdureless mountains would provide no forage for 
our animals, nor game to lengthen out our rations unless we descended to 
the lower levels, Capt. Boling sent a pack train to the Fresno for barley 
and extra rations. All of our Indians except Sandino and Ten-ie-ya were 
allowed to go below with the detachment sent along as escort for the 
train. While waiting for these supplies, some of the command who had been 
exploring up Indian canyon, reported fresh signs at the head of that 
ravine. Feeling somewhat recovered in strength, Captain Boling decided to 
undertake a trip out, and see for himself some of our surroundings. 
Accordingly, the next morning, he started with some thirty odd men up 
Indian canyon. His design was to explore the Scho-look or Scho-tal-lo-wi 
branch (Yosemite Creek) to its source, or at least the Southern exposures 
of the divide as far east as we could go and return at night. Before 
starting, I advised the taking of our blankets, for a bivouac upon the 
ridge, as from experience I was aware of the difficult and laborious 
ascent, and intimated that the excursion would be a laborious one for an 
invalid, if the undertaking was accomplished. The Captain laughed as he 
said: "Are your distances equal to your heights? If they correspond, we 
shall have ample time!" Of course, I could make no reply, for between us, 
the subject of heights had already been exhausted, although the Captain 
had not yet been to the top of the inclosing walls.

Still, realizing the sensitive condition of his lungs, and his 
susceptibility to the influences of the cold and light mountain air, I 
knew it would not be prudent for him to 

Page 191

camp at the snow-line; and yet I doubted his ability to return the same 
day; for this reason I felt it my duty to caution him. A few others, who 
had avoided climbing the cliffs, or if they had been upon any of the high 
ridges, their mules had taken them there, joined in against my suggestion 
of providing for the bivouac. I have before referred to the Texan's 
devotion to the saddle. In it, like Camanche Indians, he will undergo 
incredible hardships; out of it, he is soon tired, and waddles laboriously 
like a sailor, until the unaccustomed muscles adapt themselves to the new 
service required of them; but the probabilities are against the new 
exercise being continued long enough to accomplish this result. 
Understanding this, I concluded in a spirit of jocularity to make light of 
the toil myself; the more so, because I knew that my good Captain had no 
just conception of the labor before him. By a rude process of measurement, 
and my practical experience in other mountains in climbing peaks whose 
heights had been established by measurements, I had approximately 
ascertained or concluded that my first estimate of from fifteen hundred to 
two thousand fect for the height of El Capitan, was much below the 
reality. I had so declared in discussing these matters. Captain Boling had 
finally estimated the height not to exceed one thousand feet. Doctor 
Black's estimate was far below this. I therefore felt assured that a walk 
up the canyon, would practically improve their judgments of height and 
distance, and laughed within myself in anticipation of the fun in store. 
On starting, I was directed to take charge of Ten-ie-ya, whom we were to 
take with us, and to keep Sandino near me, to interpret anything required 
during the trip. As we entered Indian canyon, the old chief told the 
Captain that the ravine was a bad one to ascend. To this the Captain 
replied, "No matter, we know this ravine leads out of the valley; Ten-ie-
ya's trail might lead us to a warmer locality."

Page 192

Climbing over the wet, mossy rocks, we reached a level where a halt was 
called for a rest. As Doctor Black came up from the rear, he pointed to a 
ridge above us, and exclaimed, "Thank God, we are in sight of the top at 
last." "Yes, Doctor," said I, "that is one of the first tops." "How so?" 
he inquired; "Is not that the summit of this ravine?" To this I cheerfully 
replied, "You will find quite a number of such tops before you emerge from 
this canyon." Noticing his absence before reaching the summit, I learned 
he took the trail back, and safely found his weary way to camp. Captain 
Boling had over-estimated his strength and endurance. He was barely able 
to reach the table land at the head of the ravine, where, after resting 
and lunching, he visited the Falls, as he afterwards informed me. By his 
order I took command of nine picked men and the two Indians. With these I 
continued the exploration, while the party with the Captain explored the 
vicinity of the High Fall, viewed the distant mountains, and awaited my 
return from above.

With my energetic little squad, I led the way, old Ten-ie ya in front, 
Sandino at his side, through forest openings and meadows, until we reached 
the open rocky ground on the ridge leading to what is now known as Mt. 
Hoffman. I directed our course towards that peak. We had not traveled very 
far, the distance does not now impress me, when as we descended toward a 
tributary of Yosemite creek, we came suddenly upon an Indian, who at the 
moment of discovery was lying down drinking from the brook. The babbling 
waters had prevented his hearing our approach. We hurried up to within 
fifty or sixty yards, hoping to capture him, but were discovered. Seeing 
his supposed danger, he bounded off, a fine specimen of youthful vigor. No 
racehorse or greyhound could have seemingly made better time than he 
towards a dense forest in the valley of the Scho-look. Several rifles were 
raised, but I gave the order "don't shoot," 

Page 193

and compelled the old chief to call to him to stop. The young Indian did 
stop, but it was at a safe distance. When an attempt was made by two or 
three to move ahead and get close to him, he saw the purpose and again 
started; neither threatening rifles, nor the calls of Ten-ie-ya, could 
again stop his flight.

As we knew our strength, after such a climb, was not equal to the chase of 
the fleet youth, he was allowed to go unmolested. I could get no 
information from Ten-ie-ya concerning the object of the exploration; and 
as for Sandino, his memory seemed to have conveniently failed him. With 
this conclusion I decided to continue my course, and moved off rapidly. 
Ten-ie-ya complained of fatigue, and Sandino reminded me that I was 
traveling very fast. My reply to both cut short all attempts to lessen our 
speed; and when either were disposed to lag in their gait, I would cry out 
the Indian word, "We-teach," meaning hurry up, with such emphasis as to 
put new life into their movements.

We soon struck an old trail that led east along the southern slope of the 
divide, and when I abandoned my purpose of going farther towards the 
Tuolumne, and turned to the right on the trail discovered, Ten-ie-ya once 
more found voice in an attempt to dissuade me from this purpose, saying 
that the trail led into the mountains where it was very cold, and where, 
without warm clothing at night, we would freeze. He was entirely too 
earnest, in view of his previous taciturnity; and I told him so.

The snow was still quite deep on the elevated portions of the ridge and in 
shaded localities, but upon the open ground, the trail was generally quite 
bare. As we reached a point still farther east, we perceived the trail had 
been recently used; the tracks had been made within a day or two. From the 
appearances, we concluded they were made by Ten-ie-ya's scouts who had 
followed down the ridge and 

Page 194

slope west of the North Dome to watch our movements. The tracks were made 
going and returning, thus showing a continued use of this locality. As the 
tracks diverged from the trail at this point, they led out of the direct 
line of any communication with the valley, and after some reflection, I 
was satisfied that we had struck a clue to their hiding place, and 
realizing that it was time to return if we expected to reach the valley 
before dark, we turned about and started at once on the down grade.

We found the Captain anxiously awaiting our return. He was pleased with 
our report, and agreed in the conclusion that the Indians were encamped 
not very far off. Captain Boling had suffered from fatigue and the chill 
air of the mountains. In speaking of a farther pursuit of our discoveries, 
he said: "I am not as strong as I supposed, and will have to await the 
return of the pack train before taking part in these expeditions."

I told Captain Boling that upon the trip, Sandino had appeared willfully 
ignorant when questioned concerning the country we were exploring, and my 
belief that he stood in fear of Ten-ie-ya; that as a guide, no dependence 
could be placed upon him, and that his interpretations of Ten-ie-ya's 
sayings were to be received with caution when given in the old chief's 
presence, as Ten-ie-ya's Spanish was about equal to his own. Captain 
Boling instructed me to tell Sandino, that in future, he need only act as 
interpreter. He seemed satisfied with this arrangement, and said that the 
country appeared different from what it was when he was a boy and had been 
accustomed to traverse it.

When we commenced our descent into the valley Ten-ie-ya wanted us to 
branch off to the left, saying he was very tired, and wanted to take the 
best trail. Said he, "There is a good trail through the arrow-wood rocks 
to the left of the canyon." I reported this to the Captain, and expressed 

Page 195

the opinion that the old chief was sincere for once; he had grumbled 
frequently while we were ascending the canyon in the morning, because we 
were compelled to climb over the moss covered bowlders, while crossing and 
re-crossing the stream, and he told Sandino that we should have taken the 
trail along the cliff above. Captain Boling replied: "Take it, or it will 
be long after dark before we reach camp." Accordingly I let Ten-ie-ya lead 
the way, and told him to travel fast. He had more than once proved that he 
possessed an agility beyond his years. As his parole was at a discount, I 
secured a small cord about his chest and attached the other end to my left 
wrist to maintain telegraphic communication with him; but as the hidden 
trail narrowed and wound its crooked way around a jutting point of the 
cliff overlooking the valley and ravine, I slipped the loop from my wrist 
and ordered a halt.

Captain Boling and the men with him came up and took in the view before 
us. One asked if I thought a bird could go down there safely. Another 
wanted to know if I was aiding "Old Truthful" to commit suicide. The last 
question had an echo of suspicion in my own thoughts. I immediately 
surmised it possible the old sachem was leading us into another trap, 
where, by some preconcerted signal, an avalanche of rocks would 
precipitate us all to the bottom. I asked Ten-ie-ya if this trail was used 
by his people; he assured me it was, by women and children; that it was a 
favorite trail of his. Seeing some evidences of it having been recently 
used, and being assured by Sandino that it was somewhere below on this 
trail that Ten-ie-ya had descended to the valley when taken a prisoner, a 
few of us were shamed into a determination to make the attempt to go where 
the old chief could go.

Most of the party turned back. They expressed a willingness to fight 
Indians, but they had not, they said, the 

Page 196

faith requisite to attempt to walk on water, much less air. They went down 
Indian canyon, and some did not reach camp until after midnight, tired, 
bruised and footsore. We who had decided to take our chances, re-commenced 
our descent. I told Ten-ie-ya to lead on, and to stop at the word "halt," 
or he would be shot. I then dispatched Sandino across the narrow foot-way, 
which, at this point was but a few inches in width, and which was all 
there was dividing us from Eternity as we passed over it. Telling them 
both to halt on a projecting bench in view, I crossed this yawning abyss, 
while Sandino, aided by a very dead shot above, held the old man as if 
petrified, until I was able once more to resume my charge of him.

This I found was the only really dangerous place, on what was facetiously 
called, by those who were leaving us, "a very good trail." The last fifty 
or sixty feet of the descent was down the sloping side of an immense 
detached rock, and then down through the top of a black oak tree at the 
south-westerly base of the vast cliff or promontory known as the "Arrow-
wood Cliff." The "Royal Arches," the "Washington Column," and the "North 
Dome," occupy positions east of this trail, but upon the same vast pile of 
granite.

I sometime afterward pointed out the trail to a few visitors that I 
happened to meet at its foot. They looked upon me with an incredulous 
leer, and tapped their foreheads significantly, muttering something about 
"Stockton Asylum." Fearing to trust my amiability too far, I turned and 
left them. Since then I have remained cautiously silent. Now that the 
impetuosity of youth has given place to the more deliberative counsels of 
age, and all dangers to myself or others are past, I repeat, for the 
benefit of adventurous tourists, that on the southwesterly face of the 
cliff 

Page 197

overlooking the valley and Indian canyon, there is a trail hidden from 
view, that they may travel if they will, and experience all the sensations 
that could ever have been felt, while alive, by a Blondin or LaMountain.

This portion of the cliff we designated as Ten-ie-ya's Trail, and it 
accords well with the scene in the Jungfrau Mountains, where Manfred, 
alone upon the cliffs, says: 

"And you, ye craigs, upon whose extreme edge
I stand, and on the torrent's brink beneath
Behold the tall pines dwindled as to shrubs,
In dizziness of distance; when a leap,
A stir, a motion, even a breath, would bring
My breast upon its rocky bosom's bed
To rest forever--wherefore do I pause?
I feel the impulse--yet I do not plunge;
I see the peril--yet do not recede;
And my brain reels--and yet my foot is firm:
There is a power upon me which withholds,
And makes it my fatality to live."