Hunting with the Bow and Arrow

no doubt, the bow was used to its greatest perfection, and it decided the fate of nations. Th

ctively. In fact, the sword and the horse, combined with the white man's superlative self-assurance, won the contest ove

the improvement in firearms, this contest became more and more unequal, and the bow disappeared

he Yana, or Yahi. That is the name they called themselves. Their neighbors called them the Nozi, and the white men called them the Deer Creek or Mill Cr

were smaller of stature, lithe, of reddish bronze complexion, and instead of being diggers of roots, they lived by the salmon spea

d between them. This resulted in definitely organized expediti

his occasion a posse of whites killed such a number of natives that it is said the creek was damned with dead bodies. An accurate acco

Here they were discovered and murdered in cold blood. One of the white scouting party laconically sta

were mainly women, old men and children. This tribal remnant sought the refuge of the impenetrable brush and volcanic rocks of Deer Cree

s had been molested, that signs of Indians had been found or that arrowheads were discovered in their sheep. But little credence was given these rumo

giving a savage snarl and brandishing a spear. In an instant the survey party disbanded, fell from the log, and crossed the stream in record-breaking time

efore. The popular opinion was that no such wildman existed, and that the linemen had be

a run for the top of the slide and reached it just in time to see two Indians vanish in the brush. They left behind them an old white-haired squaw, w

ached and spoke kindly to her in Spanish. But she seemed not to understand their words, and apparently expected only death, for in the

cern them. In one of the huts acorns and dried salmon had been stored; the other was their habitation. There was a small hearth for indoor cooking; bows, arrows, fishing t

, hoping to find the rest of the Indi

a lone survivor appeared. Early in the morning, brought to bay by a barking dog, huddled in the corner of a corral, was an emaciated naked Indian. So stran

e men meant death. All his people had been killed by whites; no other result could happen. So he waited in fear and trembling. They brought him food, but he would not eat; water, but he would not drink. They asked him questio

had never worn shoes, he had small bits of wood in his nose and ea

roville and was brought into the presence of this strange Indian. Having knowledge of many native dialects, Dr. Watterman tried one after the other on the prisoner. Through good fortune, some of the Yana vocabulary h

like a spell the man changed from a cowering, trembling savage. A furtive smile came across his f

Watterman had discovered one of the lost trib

him, and he learned tha

appily for five years. From him it was learned that his people were all dead. The old woman seen in the Deer Creek episode was his mother; the old man was his uncle. These died on a long journey to Mt. Lassen, soon after

mediately south of Mt. Lassen, was long since gone, and with him all his people. Ranchers and stockmen had usurped their country, spoiled the fishing

means "strong and straight one," for he was the youth of their camp. He had learned to make fire with sticks; he knew the lost art of chipping arrowheads from flint and obsidian; he was the fisherman and the hunter. He knew nothing of our modern life. He had no name for iron, nor cloth, nor horse

h of his own life, and it brings ill luck to speak of the dead. He could not pronounce the name of his father without calling him from the

dly was nearer sixty. Because of his simple life he was

es tall, well proportioned, had b

et strongly marked outlines, high cheek bones, large intelligent e

itive tools of stone and bone, he soon learned to use most expertly

e took great pride in his ability to make fire with two sticks of buckeye

tuated next to the Museum. Ishi was employed here in a small way as a janitor to teach him mode

which he was brought in contact. He lived a very hygienic existence, having excellent food and sleeping outdoors, but still he was often sick.

ly, and trustworthy. More than this, he had a supe

myths or animal stories of his have been recorded and preserved. They are as interesting as the stories of Uncle Remus. The escapades o

nimals. He taught me to make bows and arrows, how to shoot them, and how to hunt, Indian fashi

country. But he did not want to stay. He liked the ways of the w

ple long ago. One day in passing the base of a great rock he scratched with his toe and dug up the bones of a bear's paw. Here, in yea

ere in a simple way we talked of old heroes, the worlds above us, and his theories of the life to come in the l

people. He called me Ku wi, or Medicine Man; more, perhaps, because I c

r acquired immunity, he contracted tuberculosis and faded away before our eyes. Because he had no natural resistance, he received no benefit from s

here have him cared for properly. We hoped that by this return to his natural elements he would recove

uddenly developed a tremendous pulmonary hemorrhage. I was with him at the time, directed his medication, and gentl

raid, and died in th

By his side we placed his fire sticks, ten pieces of dentalia or Indian money, a sm

s placed in an earthen jar. On it is insc

but not wise. We knew many things and much that is false. He knew nature, which is always true. His were the qualities of character that last forever. He was essentially kind

word for good-by. He s

is people. We stay, and he has