LIFE SKETCHES OF A JAYHAWKER 61 



We did not have any scrap with Indians on our way there, but we came 

 near to it, as two men were killed the day before we passed along. I saw 

 a wagon body that was shot full of arrows. The man was camped when they 

 atatcked him. He stood them off with his gun. The arrows would go 

 through the wagon body, but not far enough to reach him. While there the 

 Indians came one night and stole a six-mule team that had been driven in 

 with provisions, besides about all the clothes there were in camp. It was a 

 universal practice for all the miners to do their washing on Sunday and 

 put out to dry on bushes. We had neglected to take them in at night. I 

 suppose they were looking for just such a chance. We had not seen any 

 Indians and had almost forgotten them. It being Sunday, I suppose they 

 ■would like a clean shirt to put on. Those Indians up in the mountains all 

 wore rabbit skins, when they wore anything at all. In the morning, early, 

 we were out beating up volunteers to go after the Indians and we succeeded 

 in raising sixteen men to go. We had a pack mule to carry our supplies 

 and made a forced march and traveled up into the high mountains. We 

 were then on the headwaters of the San Joaquin River. When night over- 

 took us we took the precaution to go into camp down in a deep ravine so 

 they could not see our camp fire. Just as we were building our camp fire it 

 began to rain and kept it up all night long, as hard as it could pour down. 

 The only thing to do was to stand up all night with a blanket around us 

 and take it. In the morning it was raining just as hard as ever. There is 

 no one that knows how hard and easy it can rain, until they get pretty 

 well up into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. In the morning we held a council 

 of war to know whether to go on or turn back. The rain had washed all 

 the mule tracks away and we had no guide of any kind to lead us on. We 

 were now getting up just into the edge of the snow, and this was, I think, 

 about the month of May. Any way, we traveled on three or four miles 

 without seeing any signs whatever of Indians. I told them we were going 

 it blind. We didn't even know the direction of the Indians, and objected to 

 going any further and there was one other of the same opinion. So it was 

 agreed that if we would stay with the pack mule, the others would just go 

 around a point of mountain there and if they saw no signs, they would re- 

 turn. In the course of about a half an hour we heard the most awful yells 

 I ever heard in all my life. One would think there was a thousand coyotes 

 let loose at once, and in a few more minutes, here come about fifty Indians 

 right down and into the patch of brush we were in. I told the fellow with 

 me this wouldn't do, we had better show ourselves. So I lead the mule out 

 in an opening and right in front of them. This made them think they were 

 being surrounded and they made a quick turn and went down over a cliff 

 and jumped from rock to rock like a band of mountain sheep. In about 

 twenty minutes the boys came rushing back, pretty well excited. Knowing 

 they had stampeded a large bunch of Indians over where we were, they 

 didn't know but what we had been killed, mule and all, but to their surprise 

 found us all right. The boys were right into the camp before they knew it 

 and that stampeded them in every direction. They thought there were 

 about four hundred of them camped there. They saw the feet and hides 

 of the stolen mules around on bushes. There had been a great feast, no 

 doubt. Now to show what a fool trick it was when we retreated back 

 about a half mile we tried to get dry loads in our guns, but there wasn't 



