Old Mission Stories of California | Page 2

and from
earliest dawn until the last traces of the evening sun have faded away,
only to give place to moonlight unsurpassed anywhere in the world.
Truly, the desert is far from being the dry, desolate, uninteresting
region it is commonly pictured.
More than a century and a quarter ago, there stood on the side of this
hill, and not far from its top, an Indian hut, or wickiup. It was built after
the manner of the Indian tribes of Southern California - a circular space
of about fifteen feet in diameter enclosed by brush-work, and roofed by
a low dome of the same material. At the side was an opening, too small
to permit one to enter without stooping low. This doorway, if it may be
so called, being window and chimney as well, fronted toward the south,
facing the dry lakes and the mountains beyond. Close by, at the left,
was a heap of bones, which, on a nearer view, disclosed themselves to
be those of rabbits, coyotes and quail, while three or four larger bones
in the pile might inform the zoologist that the fierce mountain-lion was
not unknown to this region. To the right of the doorway, some ten feet
from it, were two large flat stones, set facing each other, a few inches
apart; between them lay a handful of ashes, betokening the kitchen of
the family living here. Close by the stones lay a number of smooth,
rounded stones of use and value to the people of the hut. Back of the
wickiup, a few paces up the hill, a tiny spring issued from the ground,
affording a never-failing, though scanty, supply of water.
The location of this solitary hut, remote from all other signs of
humanity, so far as the eye could judge, was a singular one; for the
Indian loves his kind, and it is rare that one wanders deliberately away
to make his home in loneliness, far from the rest of the tribe to which
he belongs. In the case of this hut, however, its solitariness was more
apparent than real; for although out of sight of any habitation whatever,
the tribe to which its inmates belonged was distant not more than two
miles, but on the other face of the hill, and hidden far in the recesses of
a small ca–on. Here, on the site of a beautiful source of precious
water, was a cluster of Indian houses of brush, built like the one on the
hillside. Each had its fireplace on one side, as well as the

accompanying heap of bones of animals killed in the chase. Near the
centre of the group of huts stood the temescal - an institution with
nearly every Southern California tribe of Indians - where those who
were ill subjected themselves to the heroic treatment of parboiling over
a fire, until in a profuse perspiration, to be followed, on crawling out,
by a plunge into the icy water of the stream. It was truly a case of kill
or cure.
Let us return to the hillside hut, and make the acquaintance of its
inmates. Passing through the humble opening, the interior is disclosed
to the curious eye at one glance. The ground embraced within the circle
of the wickiup had been dug away so as to make an even, hard floor
two or three feet below the surface of the earth outside. To the right,
standing on the floor, were two large, round baskets, each one with a
capacity of half a dozen gallons. They were made in conformity to the
general type of basket of the Southern California aborigine, but with
the distinctive marks peculiar to the tribe to which belonged the
dwellers within, and woven so tightly as to hold water without
permitting a drop to pass through. In the bottom of one of these baskets
was scattered a little ground meal of the acorn, a staple article of food
with all the Indians of California. The other basket, similar to the first
in shape and size, but of rougher weave, and lined on the inside with
bitumen, was nearly full of water; for though the finely woven baskets
of the Southern California Indians were really water-tight, they were
not generally used for liquids. Any one, acquainted with the customs of
these Indians, would understand the meaning of the little heap of stones
by the fireside without: they were used in warming the water in the
basket, which was done by heating them in the embers of the fire, then,
when hot, throwing them into the water, in this way bringing it almost
to a boil. Afterward, the stones having been taken out, some meal was
thrown in and, in this manner, cooked. Beyond the baskets, and nearly
opposite the entrance, against