Indian Tears Along the Mad River: The Story of the Destruction of Northern California's American Indians

By Rick Ruja

Thousands of indigenous people lived unmolested in northwestern California for 8,000 years. In 1849, miners found gold in the Trinity River causing thousands of Americans to flock to Humboldt Bay. They spread inland and exterminated every Indian they came across. The war lasted 15 years. Very few Indians

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Nov 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781684860036

Rick Ruja

He was born in Los Angeles of Jewish parents, growing up with a love of the outdoors--swimming in the Pacific Ocean, hopping a freight train that followed the Colorado River from its headwaters and climbing Wyoming's Grand Tetons. He was encouraged to enter medical school, practicing emergency medicine until a serious illness caused him to return to writing historical novels of America's West. A Native woman of Wailaki and Yuki heritage revealed to the author the suppressed history of this massive rubout of Northern California's indigenous people during the time period, 1849-1870. RR

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INDIAN TEARS

ALONG THE MAD RIVER

The Story of the Destruction of Northern California’s American Indians

Rick Ruja

Indian Tears Along the Mad River

Copyright © 2021 by Rick Ruja. All rights reserved.

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Published in the United States of America

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021921927

ISBN 978-1-64753-998-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64753-999-3 (Hardback)

ISBN 978-1-68486-003-6 (Digital)

21.09.21

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

EUREKA, CALIFORNIA

The author wishes to thank the following people for their contributions of support that enabled me to complete the work of my life , Indian Tears Along the Mad River .

Their assistance took many forms—financial, moral encouragement, editorial suggestions and, in some cases, as inspiration for characters that, hopefully, have contributed life to the story-telling.

I need to particularly mention my brother, Thomas Daniel, whose unremitting support of me brings back memories of the life of Vincent Van Gogh. A tortured soul most of his life, the great artist had only one source of nurturance, his brother Theodore. The record of their personal communications was related in the book DEAR THEO.

I, also wish to thank Patricia White-Lily Burrell who initiated this project, Ray Hillman, professional historian, Hubert and Joyce Reid, Nick Reif, Loren Kumpf, Jane Kay, Mark Bailey, Norm Levin, Linda Fox, David Eifler (Environmental Design Librarian), Michael Wroten and Mary Onstad, the Queen of the Commas, all of whom offered their valuable opinions to me for which I am indebted.

A tip of the sombrero for my computer consultant, Bert Reid, for his help in taming my wildly unpredictable computer. Without his assistance this work would have been stillborn. (He and his wife, Joyce, also served as the inspiration for two of the major characters in this book.)

RICK RUJA

AN ADMONITION

The contents of this story may be seen by some readers as controversial. The better part of wisdom suggests, in general, that one would do well to avoid discussing, if possible, a subject of Faith with anyone whose adherence to a particular creed may vary from your own.

Yet, this book presents the heart-rending clash of two cultures and two races, resulting, sadly, in a winning and a losing side, events that occurred over one-hundred fifty years ago in Northern California.

The author is aware that certain individuals, perhaps, some local Native Americans, or possibly, selected descendants of the original Society of Humboldt Pioneers, for example, who may view a revisit of the Indian Wars of the 1800’s and the subsequent founding of the northwestern counties of California that followed, to be a trespass on their version of events, thus provoking a visceral response from both sides of the battle line.

However, an axiom has guided the writing of this book to the effect that when presenting a subject that may touch on some people’s sensitivities, the writer of integrity follows the truth, as he or she sees it, without pandering to any preconceptions or political factions. This is the path that this author has chosen to follow in completing this work.

RR

PREFACE

The United States of America is a blessed land. It is blessed with an abundance of natural resources as well as by the Great Architect’s physical creations, such as Yosemite Valley, The Black Hills of South Dakota, The GreatLakes, the Mississippi River, The Grand Canyon and the Redwood Forests of Northern California . It is blessed by the influence on the continent received through cultural interactions between the land and the varieties of people who lived here, those who visited her plains, mountains and green valleys.

Men and women came to America from all parts of the globe, including Asia and Europe. The attitudes and behavioral practices they brought with them continued to develop from the interaction between their original heritage and America’s social and topographical environments. The indigenous people, also, referred to as Indians, most scholars believe, emigrated from Asia over fifteen-thousand years ago.

During the nineteenth century, the aboriginal people spent much of their time fighting with both immigrants from Europe as well as with migrants from the eastern United States over land ownership in Northern California. This little-known confrontation proved to have a disastrous effect on the natives north of San Francisco Bay.

Multiple authorities have documented the horrendous discovery that hundreds of thousands of natives were slaughtered between 1850 and 1870 by the White interlopers most of whom, founded Humboldt, Trinity, and Mendocino counties, political entities now located in northwestern California.

This book has been thoroughly researched and is well-documented with appropriate footnotes. It also contains both people and events that are fictional for purposes of readability. The fictional transition portions have been created with a plausibility that does not interfere with the disclosure of the horrendous occurrences that took place in the 1800’s. (It is for this reason that the book is called a historical novel.)

During the period, 1850-1865, a war of mutual brutality took place, a War to the Knives, in the words of an Indian warrior. The local natives clashed with Caucasian miners and settlers over ownership of a Garden of Eden whose climate produced a region of flora and fauna so lush that it was worth risking White lives and those of their families to wrest the land from its aboriginal owners who had inhabited this area for over four-thousand years.

The demise of the local natives north of San Francisco Bay has never been presented either in this format or in its entirety. Few people in California, much less the United States, are aware of the events that took place here. Northwestern California was the location for the greatest number of human atrocities ever committed by Americans within their borders, in the history of the United States. This racial conflict evolved into the survival of the fittest human group, so often nature’s process for change on this planet.

(NOTE TO READER : Please consult the GLOSSARY at the end of the book for key words and phrases, necessary for easy readability.)

Prayer to the Great Spirit

O Great Spirit,

Whose voice I hear in the winds,

And whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me!

I am small and weak.

I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes ever behold

The red and purple sunset.

Make my hands respect the things you have made

And my ears remain sharp to hear your voice.

Make me wise so that I may understand

The things you have taught my people.

Let me hear the lessons you have hidden

In every leaf and rock.

I need strength,

Not to be greater than my brother,

But to fight my greatest enemy—myself.

Make me always ready

To come to you with clean hands and straight eyes,

So when life fades, as the fading sunset,

My spirit may come to you without shame.

Aho! Amen!

(Prayer written by unknown shaman, probably, Crow in origin.)

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1: In The Beginning

Chapter 2: The First White Men

Chapter 3: The Ozarkans

Chapter 4: The Origin Of The Natural BridgeMassacre

Chapter 5: Lassik Asserts Leadership

Chapter 6: Summer 1852

Chapter 7: Fall 1852

Chapter 8: A Town Burns, The Countryside Follows

Chapter 9: A War To The Knives

Chapter 10: The New World

Chapter 11: Life Along The East Fork

Chapter 12: Head ‘Em Up, Move ‘Em Out

Chapter 13: The Demise Of Blackjack Ketchum

Chapter 14: College

Chapter 15: The World Of Learning

Chapter 16: The Truth Will Set You Free

Chapter 17: Along The Red Road

Epilogue

Afterword

Glossary Of Terms

Footnotes

INTRODUCTION

This work presents, within a historically-accurate setting, a window into the nineteenth century homeland invasion of the Native Americans of northwestern California by Caucasian miners and settlers who coveted the gold present in the local streams as well as the well-watered environment that supported the lush flora and fauna of the region.

The story begins with the Wailakki Wintu clan, in concert with their more powerful cousins, the Hoopa tribe, migrating from the Alaskan region south to the Trinity River about 4,000 years ago, settling in what is now the area contained, for the most part, within Klamath, Humboldt, Trinity and Mendocino counties. The story of the aboriginal people is retold in the following chapters using historical, as well as, fictional characters, the latter, for the most part, reflecting the actual people of the era. The reader will, also, revisit events that are either historically accurate or are presented in a plausible manner consistent with the era.

Eighteen forty-eight witnessed the beginning of a racial confrontation initiated by White interlopers who intended to wrest the area from the native inhabitants. The revelations of ethnocide and genocide perpetrated against nearly all Indians north of San Francisco Bay have been mentioned, previously, by many authorities.

This volume, also, includes events that followed the conclusion of the Indian Wars, a crucial and poignant time when the surviving natives attempted to adapt to a new lifestyle in a world dominated by Caucasians.

(NOTE TO READER: In keeping with the book’s historical format, twenty-five footnotes that support critical statements, will be noted as FN in the text. Further detail will be available at the end of the book.)

According to James Roscoe, the Wailakki Wintu (North-Speaker people), the central native group in this story, became extinct as a viable culture, by 1865. (FN)

Even more disconcerting was the discovery that conservative estimates revealed the population of American Indians living throughout northern California to have declined from a minimum of 300,000 in 1840 to a probable low of 10 to 20,000 in the early 1900’s, when researchers from the University of California, Berkeley investigated empty villages on field trips to the areas. Jack Norton wrote, Scholars estimate anywhere from three-hundred thousand to one million Indians populated California before the European invasion…By 1870, an estimated 30,000 Indians were living in the entire state.(FN) Norton and Vogel agreed that by 1900 about 17,000 Indians remained in California. (FN) The majority of California Indians lived in the northwestern portion of the state. The White invaders’ attitude and goal regarding the people of this region differed from the nature and scope of the confrontations occurring east of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The White migrants east of California sought control of all Western lands and were prepared to kill any indigenous people, if necessary, who opposed them. To illustrate, one authoritative source cited the following: "Between 1866 and 1891 more than one-thousand engagements were fought between Indians and the U.S. Army (east of California) with an estimated 5,519 Indians killed. In 1866, all of the West had an estimated 270,000 Indians." (FN)

But, in Northern California, regardless of numbers, White migrants adopted an extreme approach to acquiring the land they coveted. Unmitigated extermination of all native people and their culture was the policy of the vast majority of the miners, settlers and the California government. The locals were hunted like the buffalo hunters hunted bison on the Great Plains—to the point of extinction.

The presence of such large numbers of human beings living in Northern California reflected the high population density of all flora and fauna north of San Francisco Bay, a consequence of favorable climactic conditions.

Before the 1840’s, the local Indians possessed neither horses nor firearms, nor did they need to transfer their domiciles in an effort to maintain their food supply as did the Plains Indians, for example, where mobility was essential to retain contact with their primary food source, the migrating buffalo. Optimal climactic conditions under which all plants and animals thrived, obtained between 40 and 42 degrees latitude in the coastal region of northwestern California obviating the need for natives to travel far to obtain food. The well-watered area was an earthly Garden of Eden that generated a population increase among the native people. The presence of Redwood forests along the coastal area is testimony to the climactic conditions that encouraged such lushness.

Thus, Stephens Powers, originally, estimated the pre-European Indian population to be 1,520,000! Under editorial pressure, he revised this figure downwards to 700,000. (FN) The holocaust that doomed the natives of the northwestern region can be largely attributed to the calculated, unremitting violent assaults instituted by the majority of the miners and settlers of said counties and not from diseases such as Smallpox and Typhoid. (FN) The State Legislature, beginning with the 1850 Act of Indenture, passed many succeeding bills restricting or eliminating all Indian civil rights, including the legalization of forced indenture of any Indian, 35 years or younger, not living on a reservation. (FN) Indian women were kidnapped, served as concubines, and were sold as chattel. A Yuki woman was worth three horses to a Mexican vaquero.

Thorton wrote that the largest, most blatant, deliberate killings of North Anerican Indians by non-Indians surely occurred in California, in the mid-1800’s. (FN) Contributors to editor, Robert Heizer’s book agreed: "We have been informed …of the murderous outrages committed on the aboriginal inhabitants of California by men with white skins…In the Atlantic and Western States, the Indians have suffered wrongs and cruelties at the hands of the stronger race. But history has no parallel to the atrocities perpetuated in California. Even the record of Spanish butcheries in Mexico and Peru has nothing so diabolical…Humboldt County, in the northern section of the State, has been the scene of a great portion of these outrages. The perpetrators seem to have acted with a deliberate design to exterminate the Indian race." (FN)

While population figures cannot be verified with absolute certainty, it is probable, that more American Indians died from violence at the hands of Whites in Northern California from 1848 to 1888 than those Native Americans rubbed out from this cause alone, in all conflicts with Whites across the Continent during the entire 19th century.

Cheryl Seidner, former tribal chairwoman of the Wiyot Tribe, whose villages ringed Humboldt Bay, California when the Whites first arrived in the late 1840’s commented, It was not a good time to be a Native American…It all happened very fast here. It took less than twenty years from the time the natives saw the first settler to when they were all shipped off to reservations—those who were left alive.

CHAPTER ONE

IN THE BEGINNING

If hunter-gatherers, four-thousand years ago, could have chosen any location on earth to live, they could not have picked a site to support a more comfortable lifestyle than the area near the California coast in a region centered between parallels forty and forty-two degrees latitude. This would include the present California counties of Humboldt, Trinity, Mendocino and adjacent environs.

About 17,000 years ago, anthropologists believe, a people who eventually settled in California, crossed the Bering Straits between Asia and North America during the last Ice Age. About 6,000 to 3,000 years ago the Wailakki Wintu emigrated from the Alaskan region along with their powerful cousins, the Hoopa, south to what is now Northern California. The Hoopa settled on the Klamath River, while their cousins moved further south to a well-watered area where the mighty Trinity River and its South Fork tributary converged.

It should be noted that migration theory is commonly held to explain the American Indian presence on the North and South American continents. These migrants possessed physical characteristics such as epicanthic eyelid folds, features identical to those people living in Asia. This viewpoint is shared with near unanimity by the modern scientific community. However certain Native Americans reject this explanation claiming that the theory disparages a variety of Creation Stories that constitute the cultural foundation of many Indian tribes and clans. For example, the Wailakki Wintu believe that their Ke-nes-tah culture was founded through the power of an ancient and revered coyote. Whether these two systems of belief, the migration theory and the indigenous creation accounts are mutually exclusive is a judgment that the reader will have to determine.

The Wailakki migrants found dense sprawling greenery growing throughout the Trinity and its South Fork’s watershed. Redwood stands dominated the coastal region within several miles of the Pacific shoreline. These majestic trees covered over two million acres and grew to heights exceeding four-hundred feet. The cool, coastal climate ranged from 40-60 degrees F. With the fog’s moisture added to over fifty inches of rainfall per year, the Redwoods became the tallest trees on earth. Only the massive Sequoias of the Yosemite Valley exceeded them in bulk. Redwood trees have graced the coast of California for over twenty million years.

The banks of the rivers were covered with a variety of floral species, from conifers like Douglas Fir to groves of deciduous Maple trees. Indian Rhubarb grew alongside Manzanita thickets. The boulder-strewn tributaries roared towards the Pacific, their flow traveling in the opposite direction from that of the Chinook and Steelhead salmon that would arrive to spawn after prowling the Pacific Ocean gaining size and strength. A native’s meal of fish might be accompanied by camas root, pine nuts (cha-te-me), wild potatoes (pa-pas) or the Mariposa Lily, a tulip-like plant also, known as sego lily, that could be roasted and consumed. Seasonal acorns were ground into a fine powder through use of the tso-bok and ta-kee (mortar and pestle) and made into soup or bread. With berries in profusion wherever the Wailakki looked, the people decided that this area would make a fine location for a central village. Thus, the first settlement was called Hlelldin, located near the current town of Salyer, off of California highway 299. Their neighbors included wolverine, Black and Grizzly Bear (called noni), herds of elk and black-tailed deer. Above them flew Golden Eagles, the Northern Spotted Owl and the majestic Condor, a high-gliding scavenger possessing the longest wing-span of any bird in the world.

The people spoke an Athapascan dialect referring to themselves as North-Speakers.

Wailakki life was supported by the creeks that carved tributaries from the river canyons. The dense growth of evergreens clung from the streams’ steep hillsides. On the valley floors, oak trees provided, in season, the acorn, an invaluable source of nutrition for the newly-arrived people. But, initially, the rivers were their main source of sustenance supplying not only seasonal salmon but, trout, crayfish and mussels as well as water fowl that filled the flyways in the thousands before resting in the riverine shallows. Birds were hunted throughout the year. Mountain Quail and ducks were always seen as targets of opportunity. The finest archers would prepare special arrows made from current saplings, just for hunting ducks. The feathers for these arrows came from the Yellow Hammer Bird. The bow wood was taken from either the Ash or Yew trees. Deer hide was glued to the outside bow for strength supporting the lacquer from beetle shells that also, contributed to the strength of the bow.

The village expanded over time. Five or six dwellings would appear on one bank of a tributary, representing what we might refer to as an extended family. On the opposite bank another group of shelters with another extended family would do the same. The extended family was the most critical social unit. A man identified his brother’s children with those of his own. A woman behaved similarly towards her sister’s children.

The Clan or kee-yah would develop over time from the growth of families who shared similar life-styles. The neighbors became interdependent, supporting each other socially, in the communal task of food collection as well as the sharing of specialized skills such as knot-tying, the application of medicine in healing and the art of weapon-making to protect themselves from predators in harvesting game. These included specialized bows and arrows, three-pronged spears for fishing and the surprisingly, deadly sling-shots that both men and women used with effect.

Their dwellings were, usually, of two designs. A pit would be excavated two-feet deep. Poles were inserted around the circular depression bent towards the center, then tied together using rope and covered with bark, stones, and dirt. Kewels employed similar technology and materials without the pit being dug. Slabs of thick bark were laid over a pole framework. A hole at the top of the shelters permitted smoke from warming and cooking fires to escape. Inside the kewels, shelves were built for storing food and cooking baskets. The village would be dotted with large woven granary baskets storing the majority of edibles, the large containers placed between the dwellings. An observer of Hlelldin would see smoke spirals from women either cooking over coals or using hot rocks dropped into basketry pots that caused water to boil the soup, stew, venison, fish or vegetables.

Upon entering a large dwelling, a visitor would find multiple baskets that held dried salmon or trout, berries, seeds, dried camas roots, tallow and even water that required the most tightly-woven storage containers. Also, the shelters stored tools such as awls, drills, scraper knives, winnowing baskets, and spoons and knives designed to open clamshells.

Obsidian blades and knives were highly sought-after. Rope could be made from grape vines or even from the iris leaf fibers that were split and woven together.

Sleeping arrangements began with laying down a bed of pine needles, surmounted by cedar, Redwood or fir boughs, and covered with blankets fashioned from deer hides and furs. The fir and cedar, in addition to providing pleasant aromas, also, deterred bed bugs.

The village awoke to warming fires being tendered within each shelter. Then the people bathed in the ubiquitous streams and creeks. During the breakfast meal, the village Headman (wee-ah) assumed a central position within the clusters of dwellings in order to direct the day’s activities. While not dictatorial, his guidance was welcomed based on his good judgment proven over time. He might present the chances for good hunting prospects based on animal locations reported by the scouts as well as his estimate of the weather’s cooperation. He could decide to emphasize the importance of completing certain tasks, like staking out the camas root fields, designating the people he wished to carry out the chore. As the Headman coordinated the day’s work, the people would listen while eating their breakfasts of venison or smoked salmon. This was not unlike modern people having breakfast with the radio on. Later, the women, between food gathering and basket-making activity would cook a communal meal to be shared by all at the end of the work day.

Over time, the North-Speakers spread their culture to the south and east, establishing multiple villages along the Mad, Van Duzen and Eel Rivers, in what are now Humboldt, Trinity and Mendocino counties. They ventured as far east as the Sacramento Valley and reached the shores of San Pablo and San Francisco Bays to the south.

Wailakkis as well as their Hoopa cousins were known for a characteristic language pattern in identifying a stranger from outside their village. They used the points of the compass to identify visitors rather than their proper names. Someone living west of the host to whom he was being introduced might hear, This man is from the west, a ‘west-speaker’. The Wailakkis were known as the North-Speakers when exploring San Francisco Bay.

By the early 1800’s, a prominent family within the Wailakki Wintus, the White Lily clan, was gaining influence. This sub-group would produce off-spring who would play key roles in the history of the people, notably Ellai, ne Chief Lassik, and his daughter, T’chet-sah ("little girl"), later to be recognized by modern scholars as Lucy Rogers Young.

A review of the historical record of the modern beginnings of the Wailakki people in the early 1800’s can be problematical from the sketchiness of written material from the time of the Indian Wars as well as the near absence of Native American survivors available to tell their story. But, putting together environmental influences that, probably, impacted the native communities allows a plausible picture to emerge of the likely life and times of certain Wailakki leaders.

It is probable that the boy who would later grow up to be the great clan leader, Chief Lassik, was genetically-related to members of the White Lily Clan. Some evidence exists, according to Essene, that the young man also, had biological connections to a group known as Wintun from the Hayfork Valley. According to Patricia White Lily Burrell, Lassik’s clan was closely affiliated with their neighbors, the Hoopa, the Sinkyone and the Nongatl or Nongaah people all who spoke related dialects. Lassik was probably born in or about 1810 in an area now known as Alderpoint. It should be noted that in the absence of Caucasian interference, his family was nomadic, ranging from the main Eel River country, into the Kettenpom Valley, the Hayfork area, as well as visiting relatives within the Middle Eel Wilderness to the east. His given name may have been OelyiO but, he was called Ellai. The name meant tie in knots and was given to him because of his facility in manipulating rope into knots, a skill highly-valued among his people. There are few pictorial likenesses of this man, but from his activities, it is likely that he was a well-formed, somewhat athletically agile fellow who eventually grew to a height approaching five ft. 8 inches. He possessed a strong, sinewy body and was quick afoot. A friendly, even boisterous boy, he was an indefatigable tree climber and a mischievous fellow whose boldness made him stand-out from the typical village males.

One year, when Ellai was ten or eleven years old, his family traveled to a region south of the Hayfork Valley, in late October, in order to gather acorns for the winter in concert with other families and clans. The socializing aspect of these gatherings was nearly as beneficial to group cohesion and spiritual growth as was the nutritious oak nuts they acquired in profusion. While the women, for the most part, harvested nature’s bounty, young Ellai went looking for excitement which usually involved prowling around to pester the numerous young girls that were aiding their mothers. While tracking one fetching ten year old Nongatl girl he found attractive, he discovered that a fifteen-foot high rock nestled strategically among a copse of Sugar pine trees offered a promising place to spy on his quarry. A skilled climber, he had started to scale the promontory when he came face to face with a competitor attempting to claim the same vantage point. While Lasik was big for his age this stranger was built like a black bear, with huge shoulders and massive forearms, standing several inches taller than the startled Ellai. As the sun watches, who are you and what are you doing climbing my rock? Ellai scowled, his eyes narrowing.

His opponent was a Mountain Wintun named Whispering Pine, also eleven years old. The latter grimaced at Ellai, wordlessly closing on him, until the bruiser was nose to forehead with the smaller Wailakki. He sneered, Your rock, huh. You’ve got a big mouth, alright, but maybe, you ought to stick to chewin’ pebbles, not stones. Anyway, how does a buck-toothed chipmunk like you come to own a boulder that belongs to my clan, eh?

Ellai swallowed hard, assessing the Wintun’s robust muscles and tried a different approach. Without backing down, he lowered his voice, sotto voce, saying, What I meant, big boy, was, since you and I are after the same game, sharing this rock makes more sense, if we intend to claim this outpost for ourselves only…an ugly bear and a clever fox.

Whispering Pine continued to glower at Ellai but he understood that he was being offered an olive branch, a sensible proposal to join forces, spoken by a bold and intelligent prospective ally. All right cousin, keep talking, but tell me your name and clan.

The tension eased and the two tough guys backed away. My name is Ellai; I’m a ‘North-Speaker’. So, what do your enemies call you behind your back?

Whispering Pine began to bellow with laughter like the little bull he resembled. For a sneaky weasel, you amuse me…but, I like your courage…I’ll bet you fight like a wolverine when you’re cornered. Ellai brushed imaginary dirt from his arm.

He replied smugly, I’m never cornered, being too fast afoot to catch. Now, if we’re going to be on the same side, I must have your name, ‘bruiser’, or ‘ugly bear’ won’t do.

All right, weasel, my name is Whispering Pine, a Mountain Wintun whose father is Headman of our village.

Well, good for your father. Now listen, if we climb to the top, we can get an eyeful of pretty girls hard at work on their knees, maybe, with their cute little bums facing us.

The Pine clapped his new friend on the shoulder. I like you, Ellai; I like all trouble-makers like me…especially, those who are dedicated bum-watchers. With their course of action established, the two young ruffians climbed to the top of the granite slab and spent the rest of the afternoon leering at the girls who were blithely picking acorns, unaware that secreted in a copse of trees, two boys were studying girls posed in a compromising position, taking great care to pick out the most alluring angel, just what might be expected from pre-teenage Indian boys. Two mountain cats had just bonded.

For the most part, the natives of Northern California behaved as peaceful and cooperative neighbors when they interacted, mainly because the region provided such a bounty of food that there was little to argue about nor a need to establish exclusive territories.

But, as human beings who possessed emotions, greed occasionally caused the tribes and clans to confront each other with war-like intentions. Whispering Pine and Ellai sat eating around a great communal fire one night. Present were representatives of tribes from the Coastal Range west to the sea—Wailakki, Sinkyone, Whilkut, the Yuki-nom, the Hoopa, Karuk and Yurok from up north and even included two Pomo Indians who lived near the north shore of San Francisco Bay. The topic under discussion was the simmering feud between the Yuki and Cahto clans.

After the confrontation was discussed for two hours, a Pomo, Tall-as-Summer-Corn, spoke, staring into the blazing fire. There’s another quarrel that has been threatening the peace south of here. I was trading for clamshell beads with the Ohlone people last summer. (They lived in the Santa Cruz area, southwest of San Francisco Bay.) The Pomo trader added, grimly, Two villages nearly engaged in full-scale warfare over grievances each side had built up over time. ‘The easterners are trespassers,’ one man announced, ‘They take our geese and ducks, never bring gifts when they visit, pick our acorns and now one man has raped a local woman!’ This call for revenge stirred up the people of the aggrieved village. In spite of the respective Headmen attempting to quell the anger growing on both sides, a western speaker argued for a ‘line battle’…to ‘teach those eastern devils a lesson’. This angered the other village and within six days, in the meadow that separated the two villages, two forces faced each other. Several truculent speakers from both sides demanded that blood be spilt. Each side shook its bows and insulted the other line. Each side was, also, careful to allow the opposition to see its weapons and preparations, for the battle was not so much about killing as a test of wills. But, this was a provocative event that could unleash violence if matters continued to spiral out-of-control.

The men around the northern communal fire remained closely attentive, waiting to hear an outcome that could affect local clans if their own leaders failed to learn the lessons from this clash. Blue Cloud, a member of the Whilkut or Redwood Creek Indians asked the Pomo speaker, anxiously, So, ‘Corn’, what finally happened? Ellai and Whispering Pine held their breath while this story unfolded, an educational tool for two aggressive youngsters.

The Pomo runner, trader and reporter then finished his sobering tale. The two lines drew nearer to each other with calls for vengeance. Finally, inflamed by a westerner’s accusation that his opponents were ‘all cowards’, an easterner, an immense man, stepped forward to answer his accusers. He was decorated with tattoos on his large chest; charms covered his body. He roared like a Grizzly at the opposition, fearless, inviting a fight. The westerners, who had initiated this confrontation became intimidated by this warrior. He was showered with arrows but, held his ground, demonstrating his bravery…until one shaft struck him in the chest. His animated rage ceased when the arrow pierced his body, and he fell to the ground dead, with a look of astonishment on his face. Both sides hesitated as if the reality of war had, finally, struck home. The easterners hauled away their fallen hero as the two respective chiefs now met in earnest to begin serious negotiations. They argued for hours until an agreement was reached. The western chief would pay beads for the man who was killed. The eastern chief would compensate the family of the raped woman. In a month, the easterners invited their former enemies to a feast with gifts being exchanged. On the surface, all was well. But the slain warrior’s wife thirsted for revenge and spent the rest of her days denouncing the other village, until another skirmish broke out.

When the Pomo had finished, muttered comments were heard among the gathered council members over the fire’s popping cinders…What a senseless death. It shows that once you enter upon a road of violence, you are fated to finish the journey. The two wild-eyed eleven year olds that night dreamt of a future where they would have an opportunity to display their own bravery to the clans.

As their women continued to harvest a bumber crop of acorns, the men seemed preoccupied with issues of war and peace. There was a compelling reason for the group’s sense of urgency. War-like antipathy was brewing between the touchy Yuki tribe and their next door neighbors, the Cahto people. The tribes resided in what is now southwest Humboldt County. The numerous Yukis also inhabited Mendocino’s Round Valley. The latter clan had an established reputation for aggressive behavior, a legacy that stretched from the Pacific Ocean to the Sacramento Valley! To the Nomelakki (Valley Speakers) in the central Valley the word Yuki meant enemy. The Yuki fought with many tribes; their only ally was the Wailakki people. They practiced their war-making habits in times of peace. One could call them the Prussiansof Northwestern California. An historian, Stephen Powers, called them a lot worse. In his book, Tribes of California, he vilified them as fierce and truculent…indisputably the worst tribe among the California Indians… sullen, thievish, vengeful and every way bad, but a brave race. In some ways, the Yukis bring to mind the Blackfeet Confederation up in the Rocky Mountains, whose area sprawled over and straddled the U.S.-Canadian border. They were a populous tribe composed of three divisions—the Bloods, the Piegan and the Siksika. Their territory included a large region of the northwestern United States as well as a section of southwestern Canada. These fierce warriors fought with everyone! Trappers feared them as did the Flathead, the Crow, the Nez Perce and the Shoshone. They were an aggressive group with a large population. In short, they had a highly desirable territory, rich in game, with a secure wall of mountains at their back, and maintained a reliable conduit to British arms, all reasons to motivate a people to protect their homeland tenaciously, defending it from any threat, whether White or native.

The Yuki were seen as unusually bold, had a relatively large membership for the area and lived, among other places within the rich area of flora and fauna called Round Valley. And when the Whites did come, they immediately recognized the lush valley as the jewel in the crown of all the lands inhabited by native peoples.

The Cahto tribe lived on the western border of Yuki-nom territory, crowded between northern neighbors—the Sinkyone, the Wailakki Wintu—and the Pacific Ocean to the west. Their territory was as modest in size as was their population. For survival reasons, they were wary about the Yuki flexing their muscles. Hate comes from fear. Even the Yuki’s physical appearance seemed to have been demonized by others. Their use of tattoos, their heavy, large heads were noted by observers, and not for reasons of admiration. In any case, a reputation, once established, can run before you like a road to nowhere.

Once more, after dinner, the men were ensconced around a blazing communal fire, only this time they were discussing the alarming news that the Cahto had tricked a group of Yuki into attending a feast, then, proceeded to ambush and kill the first ones who showed up. Reuben Black Bear of the Redwood Whilkut, shook his head in dismay. Now, they’ve done it, those Cahto. The Yuki always retaliate and can become messy about it. Lopping off the heads of their enemies after torturing them is a favorite practice of theirs.

A Wailakki leader, Ishi-Nota agreed that this skirmish represented a threat to the region. "We Wailakki are neighbors to both parties. And as you know, a fire that burns down your neighbor’s kewel, can spread to your domicile, as well. We must act as peacemakers to these hotheads. I wonder what caused the Cahto to act with such haste and deception? Does anyone know what spark set off this fire…because my people are in the dark over this?"

Many of those present tried to speak at once as the unusual disharmony between clans induced a rare sense of insecurity among the natives. Ellai and Whispering Pine watched with great interest the approach taken by their elders to the dangerous events developing closer to home. Finally, a respected Sinkyone shaman, Night’s Shadow, took over the council that had become agitated and fractious. Employing a sotto voce mannerism, the speaker’s soft voice required the others to lower theirs as well in order to hear the shaman’s wisdom. Night’s Shadow suggested a way for the others to respond to this crisis. A question that begins with ‘why’ is not likely to be productive in finding a solution. But questions of ‘what’, ‘where’, and ‘how’ will prove to illuminate better the twists and turns of the murky conflict. How far has the fighting spread? Are there certain instigators on either side that must be isolated? What are the goals of the war-makers? And, of importance, what are the demands that must be met on either side in order for peace to reign again? All of us must direct our inquiries along these lines and quickly, before too many killings harden the hearts of both parties.

The two boys were impressed by Night’s Shadow’s quiet leadership and incisive questions that pointed the other men towards finding a successful solution. This wasn’t the foolishness in which eleven-year-olds engage. These future young leaders received a sobering lesson in how to respond when a forest fire of violence threatens entire communities. Later in life, Lassik would reveal to the Pine and to others the night he was shown how to manage the complexities necessary to maintain the peace.

CHAPTER TWO

THE FIRST WHITE MEN

The native people who lived in the northwestern region of California had been aware of the presence of the Nai’ichi , the pale-skinned ones, for some time. Runners from other Indian tribes described the depredations of the Mexican Californios who, in the 18th century, kidnapped Indian women for use as slaves. However, except for the rare White explorer who passed through the area without impacting the native population, for example, Jedediah Smith, the famous fur-trapper, the natives’ lifestyle would remain unchallenged until the late 1840’s.

This would change when an historic figure named Pierson Barton Reading, arrived on the Trinity River in 1848. Prior to this, Reading worked closely with a unique Swiss émigré and soldier of fortune, John Sutter who was establishing an agricultural enterprise northeast of San Francisco Bay.

The latter was a man who harbored dreams of greatness for himself. America, especially the land west of the Mississippi River, seemed to Sutter, in the 1830’s, to offer the best opportunity to demonstrate the skills that he felt remained unappreciated in Europe. John McCoy, the founder of Kansas City, Missouri, in 1836, described him as a soldierly-looking man with a great deal of dash and determination. He sported a fair share of facial hair, wore high-topped boots, and a distinguished blue cloak that reached nearly to his boot tops. He managed to convince others that he was, at one time, a captain in the Swiss Army, a claim that, while controversial, was in keeping with his persona and aspirations. Albert Hurtado wrote a fine biography of this man who proved so instrumental in founding the greater Sacramento, California area. Landing in San Francisco in July 1839, Sutter, 5’ 8" tall, stout with sideburns, a mustache and a confident bearing, quickly impressed Mexican Governor Alvarado with his leadership qualities.

The Mexican authorities were greatly concerned by the encroachment of American adventurers and settlers who threatened to compromise control of their California province. The area around the Sacramento and American Rivers needed an authority to provide order and procedure for the local Indians as well as to control rowdy, itinerant American inter-lopers. On July 5th, Sutter proposed to Alvarado that he be permitted to establish a colony of settlement near the Sacramento River’s embarcadero as the Governor’s representative to hold the region secure for the Mexican authorities. His proposal was accepted and thus, began a budding fiefdom of empire for Sutter, eventually comprising 49,000 acres.

By 1844, New Helvetia was well on its way to becoming the administrative, military and, most important to Captain Sutter, the agricultural center of a growing part of California, northeast of San Francisco Bay. But, fatefully, in the summer of 1847, Sutter sent carpenter, James Marshall to the American River, nearby, to build a sawmill. Nearing completion, Marshall, one night, opened wide the sluice gates of the mill. On the momentous morning of January 24, 1848, he examined the mill race for debris.Yellow specks were seen…flecks of gold gravel. The golden goose had been set loose on the world. Sutter’s dream of a bucolic paradise as well as California history itself were altered forever. He would live to see his cattle butchered, fields trampled, and his land claimed by squatters until he was left with nothing, a fate soon to be shared with the natives of the north.

However, one man’s sorrow can be another’s serendipity. Enter Mormon Sam Brannan. Brannan, in 1848, owned a dry goods store in nearby Sutterville. A Church elder, he was a man of vast energy and possessed a fine sense of business acumen. One of the few men to be aware of this geological finding, he found that a similar site had been discovered to the east at Mormon Diggings. One day, Brannan came to visit the Swiss land baron.

Who’s knocking on my door? John Sutter inquired.

His assistant’s muffled voice responded, Mr. Brannan to see you, Captain.

Thank you, Mr. Kyburz. Let him in.

When the door was flung open, Mormon Sam Brannan bounded into the room, a man on a mission. Greetings, John. May I sit down? I have little time.

Sutter gazed at this shopkeeper who appeared to be feverish enough to be suffering from Malaria. Have a seat, Sam. What’s the rush? Have some fresh bread and a flagon of ale.

That’s neighborly of you, brother, but I’ve business in San Francisco that requires my immediate presence…though, I’d be beholden to ya’, if you’d grant me a favor.

And what might that be Mr. Brannan? Do you require permission to build a Tabernacle on my land, perhaps? Sutter winkled a wry grin.

Brannan laughed. No sir, nothing that grand. I want you to cadge me a good horse; mine’s about played out.

His host cast a long, querulous glance at Brannan. What did you find up at Mormon Island, Sam, if I may ask?

Brannan lowered his head and his voice, wary of eavesdroppers. Same as you and Marshall found at your sawmill: Gold! You’re gonna’ be gettin’ plenty a’ company ‘round these parts in the days to come, John. Mind my words. And if we’re not careful, old man, both of us just might end up gettin’ rich! He finished his sentence with a flourish, startling Sutter.

The Captain replied, I’ll loan you a horse, Sam. But, there’s little chance that at this wet season the spring rains will make traveling between here and the Bay by horse practicable. Best, wait for a boat to carry you through.

Brannan flashed a smile, "Well, you ain’t me, Captain. Thank the Lord. And I’m just stubborn enough to enjoy the challenge of going it myself. However, I am grateful for the loan of some much needed hoofed transportation. And I do pay back my debts, sir; you have my word of honor on that."

Brannan chose a big Bay for his mount. He saddled up, cinched the strap tightly, saluted Sutter with a nod, then, bolted through the open gate. The Swiss visionary watched with misgivings as horse and rider dashed westward towards the setting sun.

The spring rain-induced flooding ended up killing his horse and stranding the Mormon messenger in the upper reaches of an isolated oak tree. While Brannan did get to San Francisco, eventually, it required being rescued by a passing boat as well as some desperate appeals for divine intervention. He looked down, forlornly, from his precarious perch in a tree surrounded by a flooded plain as far as his eye could see, and called on any and all Mormon Saints, Dear Heavenly Father, I beseech thee to save me from these dire straits. I promise to become thy worthy servant if you, mercifully, would see fit to rescue me from my place of confinement.

It would take more than an act of Nature to stop this man infected with gold fever. A clever entrepreneur with plenty of spunk, once he reached San Francisco, his tasks were first, to corner the market in miners’ supplies. And second, to spread the news about the treasure that lay in and about the gravel stream bottoms coursing down the Sierra Nevada foothills. Within a day of arriving in the dusty streets of the new City by the Bay, Brannan made himself into an instant spectacle. He ran up and down Montgomery Street and around Portsmouth Square with a jar filled with gold, waving it over his head. Swinging his hat around with his right hand, he shouted to one and all that gold was lying on the banks and in the shallow streams of unclaimed land east of Sutter’s Fort just waiting to be picked up by any man with a little gumption. Horace Greeley was quoted as advising, Go West, Young Man! Sam Brannan grabbed Mormons and gentiles alike from the streets of San Francisco, urging, "Saints, east! East! Head