The Wild And Half-Desert
Region Through Which The Travellers Were Passing, Is Wandered
Over By Hordes Of Shoshokoes, Or Root Diggers, The Forlorn Branch
Of The Snake Tribe.
They are a shy people, prone to keep aloof
from the stranger.
The travellers frequently met with their
trails, and saw the smoke of their fires rising in various parts
of the vast landscape, so that they knew there were great numbers
in the neighborhood, but scarcely ever were any of them to be met
with.
After a time, they began to have vexatious proofs that, if the
Shoshokoes were quiet by day, they were busy at night. The camp
was dogged by these eavesdroppers; scarce a morning, but various
articles were missing, yet nothing could be seen of the
marauders. What particularly exasperated the hunters, was to have
their traps stolen from the streams. One morning, a trapper of a
violent and savage character, discovering that his traps had been
carried off in the night, took a horrid oath to kill the first
Indian he should meet, innocent or guilty. As he was returning
with his comrades to camp, he beheld two unfortunate Diggers,
seated on the river bank, fishing. Advancing upon them, he
levelled his rifle, shot one upon the spot, and flung his
bleeding body into the stream. The other Indian fled and was
suffered to escape. Such is the indifference with which acts of
violence are regarded in the wilderness, and such the immunity an
armed ruffian enjoys beyond the barriers of the laws, that the
only punishment this desperado met with, was a rebuke from the
leader of the party.
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