After having ridden some little distance we
ran upon the trail of six Indians, who as we supposed had passed
the evening before, and were evidently plodding along in the
direction of Lost river. This was without doubt the trail of four
bucks and two squaws. After we had followed this trail a few miles
we found where they had stopped, built a fire, caught, cooked and
ate some fish. We knew they were not many miles ahead of us, in
fact, the fire had not entirely gone out. From here on we had
plain sailing, and the nearer an old scout gets when on the trail
of an Indian the more anxious he gets, so we sped along up the
lake four miles further, and were on them before they knew it;
they were all on the banks of the river fishing.
In this outfit there were Scarfaced Charley and Black Jim, their
squaws, and two other Indians. The moment we saw them we both drew
our pistols, but concealed them from their view by hiding them
under our coats. When we approached them they all said, "Good
morning."
I did not see any guns near them nor did either of them have
pistols. Scarfaced Charley said: "We like go reservation; too much
hungry, my squaw nearly dead, ketchem some fish her, purty soon
go."
After I had informed him that I would have to take them all back
to Gen. Wheaton's quarters, Charley said: "What for?" I said:
"Charley, I will take you all back to headquarters, give you all
plenty to eat, and when we get all the Modoc Indians they will be
taken to the reservation.
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