The Piute Indians were supposed to be peaceful, and their old
chief, Winnemucca, once the warlike and dreaded foe of the white
man, was now quiet enough, and too old to fight. He lived, with
his family, at an Indian village near the post.
He came to see me occasionally. His dress was a curious mixture
of civilization and savagery. He wore the chapeau and dress-coat
of a General of the American Army, with a large epaulette on one
shoulder. He was very proud of the coat, because General Crook
had given it to him. His shirt, leggings and moccasins were of
buckskin, and the long braids of his coal-black hair, tied with
strips of red flannel, gave the last touch to this incongruous
costume.
But I must say that his demeanor was gentle and dignified, and,
after recovering from the superficial impressions which his
startling costume had at first made upon my mind, I could well
believe that he had once been the war-leader, as he was now the
political head of his once-powerful tribe.
Winnemucca did not disdain to accept some little sugar-cakes from
me, and would sit down on our veranda and munch them.
He always showed me the pasteboard medal which hung around his
neck, and which bore General Howard's signature; and he always
said: "General Howard tell me, me good Injun, me go
up - up - up" - pointing dramatically towards Heaven. On one
occasion, feeling desperate for amusement, I said to him:
"General Howard very good man, but he make a mistake; where you
go, is not up - up - up, but," pointing solemnly to the earth below
us, "down - down - down." He looked incredulous, but I assured him
it was a nice place down there.
Some of the scattered bands of the tribe, however, were restless
and unsubdued, and gave us much trouble, and it was these bands
that necessitated the scouts.
My little son, Harry, four years old, was my constant and only
companion, during that long, cold, and anxious winter.
My mother sent me an appealing invitation to come home for a
year. I accepted gladly, and one afternoon in May, Jack put us
aboard the Silver City stage, which passed daily through the
post.
Our excellent Chinese servant promised to stay with the "Captain"
and take care of him, and as I said "Good-bye, Hoo Chack," I
noticed an expression of real regret on his usually stolid
features.
Occupied with my thoughts, on entering the stage, I did not
notice the passengers or the man sitting next me on the back
seat. Darkness soon closed around us, and I suppose we fell
asleep. Between naps, I heard a queer clanking sound, but
supposed it was the chains of the harness or the stage-coach
gear. The next morning, as we got out at a relay station for
breakfast, I saw the handcuffs on the man next to whom I had sat
all the night long. The sheriff was on the box outside. He very
obligingly changed seats with me for the rest of the way, and
evening found us on the overland train speeding on our journey
East. Camp MacDermit with its dreary associations and
surroundings faded gradually from my mind, like a dream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* *
The year of 1879 brought us several changes. My little daughter
was born in mid-summer at our old home in Nantucket. As I lay
watching the curtains move gently to and fro in the soft
sea-breezes, and saw my mother and sister moving about the room,
and a good old nurse rocking my baby in her arms, I could but
think of those other days at Camp Apache, when I lay through the
long hours, with my new-born baby by my side, watching, listening
for some one to come in. There was no one, no woman to come,
except the poor hard-working laundress of the cavalry, who did
come once a day to care for the baby.
Ah! what a contrast! and I had to shut my eyes for fear I should
cry, at the mere thought of those other days.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * *
Jack took a year's leave of absence and joined me in the autumn
at Nantucket, and the winter was spent in New York, enjoying the
theatres and various amusements we had so long been deprived of.
Here we met again Captain Porter and Carrie Wilkins, who was now
Mrs. Porter. They were stationed at David's Island, one of the
harbor posts, and we went over to see them. "Yes," he said, "as
Jacob waited seven years for Rachel, so I waited for Carrie."
The following summer brought us the good news that Captain
Corliss' company was ordered to Angel Island, in the bay of San
Francisco. "Thank goodness," said Jack, "C company has got some
good luck, at last!"
Joyfully we started back on the overland trip to California,
which took about nine days at that time. Now, travelling with a
year-old baby and a five-year-old boy was quite troublesome, and
we were very glad when the train had crossed the bleak Sierras
and swept down into the lovely valley of the Sacramento.
Arriving in San Francisco, we went to the old Occidental Hotel,
and as we were going in to dinner, a card was handed to us. "Hoo
Chack" was the name on the card. "That Chinaman!" I cried to
Jack."How do you suppose he knew we were here?"
We soon made arrangements for him to accompany us to Angel
Island, and in a few days this "heathen Chinee" had unpacked all
our boxes and made our quarters very comfortable. He was rather a
high-caste man, and as true and loyal as a Christian.
