Hunting with the Bow and Arrow | Page 3

been stored; the other was their habitation. There was
a small hearth for indoor cooking; bows, arrows, fishing tackle, a few
aboriginal utensils and a fur robe were found. These were confiscated
in the white man's characteristic manner. They then left the place and
returned to camp.
Next day the party revisited the site, hoping to find the rest of the
Indians. These, however, had gone forever.
Nothing more was seen or heard of this little band until the year 1911,
when on the outskirts of Oroville, some thirty-two miles from the Deer
Creek camp, 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 strange was his appearance and so alarmed
was the butcher's boy who found him, that a hasty call for the town
constable brought out an armed force to capture him.
Confronted with guns, pistols, and handcuffs, the poor man was sick
with fear. He was taken to the city jail and locked up for safekeeping.
There he awaited death. For years he had believed that to fall into the
hands of white 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 questions, but he could not speak.
With the simplicity of the white man, they brought him other Indians of
various tribes, thinking that surely all "Diggers" were the same. But
their language was as strange to him as Chinese or Greek.
And so they thought him crazy. His hair was burnt short, his feet had
never worn shoes, he had small bits of wood in his nose and ears; he
neither ate, drank, nor slept. He was indeed wild or insane.
By this time the news of the wild Indian got into the city papers, and
Professor T. T. Watterman, of the Department of Anthropology at the
University of California, was sent to investigate the case. He journeyed
to Oroville 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 had been preserved in the records of the University.
Venturing upon this lost language, Watterman spoke in Yana the words,
_Siwini_, which means pine wood, tapping at the same time the edge of
the cot on which they sat.
In wonderment, the Indian's face lighted with faint recognition.
Watterman repeated the charm, and like a spell the man changed from a
cowering, trembling savage. A furtive smile came across his face. He
said in his language, _I nu ma Yaki_--"Are you an Indian?" Watterman
assured him that he was.
A great sense of relief entered the situation. Watterman had discovered
one of the lost tribes of California; Ishi had discovered a friend.
They clothed him and fed him, and he learned that the white man was
good.
Since no formal charges were lodged against the Indian, and he seemed
to have no objection, Watterman took him to San Francisco, and there,
attached to the Museum of Anthropology, he became a subject of study
and lived happily 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 their
discovery. Here he had burned their bodies and gone into mourning.
The fact that the white men took their means of procuring food, as well
as their clothing, contributed, no doubt, to the death of the older people.
Half starved and hopeless, he had wandered into civilization. His father,
once the chieftain of the Yana tribe, having domain over all the country
immediately south of Mt. Lassen, was long since gone, and with him
all his people. Ranchers and stockmen had usurped their country,
spoiled the fishing, and driven off the game. The acorn trees of the
valleys had been taken from them; nothing remained but evil spirits in
the land of his forefathers.
Now, however, he had found kindly people who fed him, clothed him,
and taught him the mysteries of civilization. When asked his name, he
said: "I have none, because there were no people to name me," meaning
that no tribal ceremony had been performed. But the old people had
called him Ishi, which 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