actics, and depended on a surprise. Had we come out in the open and
shown ourselves, we would probably have fared badly in such an unequal
contest. Secrecy, therefore, was our only safe course, and that required
both skill and caution. We knew the Indians would be off their guard,
that they would never dream of pursuit, and when surprised would scatter
like a covey of quail. Another object was to come to close quarters as
quickly as possible, so as to use our revolvers when the rifles had been
emptied. Howard Maupin, an old Indian fighter, and father of the youth
who accompanied us, once remarked that in "close quarters an Indian
can't hit the side of a barn." I understood this when, years after in
the first battle in the lava beds with the Modocs, I asked General
Wheaton to signal to Colonel Bernard to cease firing and I would charge
with the volunteers. We had them hemmed between two lines, with an
intervening space of not more than 150 yards. He refused, saying we had
lost too many men and the country would not justify the sacrifice of
human life. We had fought them all day, and had suffered severely, and
finally retreated under cover of darkness. It cost nearly three hundred
men to close the Modoc war, including the life of the gallant General
Canby. I believed then--I know now we could have whipped them in twenty
minutes with the loss of less than a dozen men.

Chapter VI.

One Sad Tale From Canyon City History.

After a few days at Bridge Creek we joined a pack train going to Canyon
City from The Dalles, and though the road was infested with savages, who
mercilessly slaughtered small parties, we arrived at the then
flourishing mining camp without mishap or adventure. Canyon City at that
time was a typical mining camp. There were congregated every known
character, race, profession and creed. Under a rough exterior the
lawyer, doctor, minister, the rude western frontiersman and the staid
and sober farmer, worked side by side. There was no distinction of dress
among that restless, surging, throbbing throng of humanity, drawn
thither by the all-absorbing motive--the glittering dust that lay
hidden beneath the gravel and sands of the streams and along the
ravines. The bond of sympathy, however, among the miners was close, and
as warm hearts beat beneath the flannel shirts as ever throbbed in the
breast of man.

Here, too, were congregated those human vultures that feed and fatten
upon the frailties and follies