ocalypse,
we may be sure it was broken when Fisher went in.

Jack White.

The only thing white about him was his name. He was a Piute Indian, and
Piutes are neither white nor pretty. There is only one being in human
shape uglier than a Piute "buck"--and that is a Piute squaw. One I saw
at the Sink of the Humboldt haunts me yet. Her hideous face, begrimed
with dirt and smeared with yellow paint, bleared and leering eyes, and
horrid long, flapping breasts--ugh! it was a sight to make one feel
sick. A degraded woman is the saddest spectacle on earth. Shakespeare
knew what he was doing when he made the witches in Macbeth of the
feminine gender. But as you look at them you almost forget that these
Piute hags are women--they seem a cross between brute and devil. The
unity of the human race is a fact which I accept; but some of our
brothers and sisters are far gone from original loveliness. If Eve could
see these Piute women, she would not be in a hurry to claim them as her
daughters; and Adam would feel like disowning some of his sons. As it
appears to me, however, these repulsive savages furnish an argument in
support of two fundamental facts of Christianity. One fact is, God did
indeed make of one blood all the nations of the earth; the other is the
fact of the fall and depravity of the human race. This unspeakable
ugliness of these Indians is owing to their evil living. Dirty as they
are, the little Indian children are not at all repulsive in expression.
A boy of ten years, who stood half-naked, shivering in the wind, with
his bow and arrows, had well-shaped features and a pleasant expression
of countenance, with just a little of the look of animal cunning that
belongs to all wild tribes. The ugliness grows on these Indians
fearfully fast when it sets in. The brutalities of the lives they lead
stamp themselves on their faces; and no other animal on earth equals in
ugliness the animal called man, when he is nothing but an animal.

There was a mystery about Jack White's early life. He was born in the
sagebrush desert beyond the Sierras, and, like all Indian babies,
doubtless had a hard time at the outset. A Christian's pig or puppy is
as well cared for as a Piute papoose. Jack was found in a deserted
Indian camp in the mountains. He had been left to die, and was taken
charge of by the kind hearted John M. White, who was then digging for
gold in the Northern mines. He and his good Christian wife had mercy on
the little