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ROBERT A. ANDERSON 
 
 Early-Day Indian ligliter and Former Sherill o( Bulte Counly, California 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks 
 
 Being a Personal Account of Campaigns 
 
 Against Indians of the Northern 
 
 Sierras 
 
 Chico, California 
 
 The Chico Record Press 
 1909 
 
 .«— ^ 
 
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 COPYRIGHTED, 1909, BY 
 B. A. ANDERSON. 
 
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FIGHTING THE MILL GREEKS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CROSSING the plains in '57, I tried mining for 
 a short time on the North Fork of Feather 
 River, but soon continued my journey to the 
 Sacramento Valley and settled on Deer Creek. With 
 broad plains to the north and south fit only for graz- 
 ing purposes, the fertile land along the creek bottom 
 seemed doubly attractive, and for several years I en- 
 gaged in gardening. By way of quick delivery, I 
 possessed an ox team, while my market lay wherever 
 buyers were to be found. I made one trip with my 
 vegetables as far away as the mountains of Trinity. 
 
 Later I sold out and went into the cattle busi- 
 ness. In 1861, snow fell in the valley to the depth 
 of six inches and lay on for two weeks. That snow 
 put me out of the cattle business. 
 
 During these years Indians were numerous. 
 Those who infested the region where I lived were 
 called Mill Creeks or Deer Creeks, the rough can- 
 yons of these two streams offering thousands of 
 hiding places to these wild bands. During the winter 
 of 1857 they caused much uneasiness among the set- 
 tlers. Many raids were made into the valley, fol- 
 lowed always by swift retreats into the hills. People 
 
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4 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 were killed, dwellings burned, and stock driven off. 
 These depredations occurred usually along the edge 
 of the valley, but extended on some occasions as far 
 as the Sacramento River. 
 
 This state of things could not continue. The In- 
 dians, with the accustomed stealth of savages, al- 
 ways made their attacks unexpectedly. Since the 
 settler could not guard against surprise, it was de- 
 cided to retaliate by carrying the war into the In- 
 dians' own territory. 
 
 Jack Spaulding, who claimed to have had experi- 
 ence in fighting the reds, organized a party of fifteen 
 men for the purpose of following the marauders into 
 the hills. Hi Good and myself were members of this 
 party. Good, whose acquaintance with the hills was 
 extensive, was elected Lieutenant, while Spaulding 
 acted as Captain. 
 
 We knew that to beat the savages we must out- 
 play them at their own game ; therefore, we traveled 
 by night, lying over in the daytime. Passing north- 
 easterly over the foothills we kept to the broad ridge 
 between Deer Creek and Mill Creek, this being the 
 ridge along which the Lassen Trail leads. 
 
 After two night of travel we reached old Bluff 
 Camp, which was one of the stopping places of the 
 early emigrant trains. It lies in the midst of a vast 
 forest just over the ridge on the Mill Creek slope. 
 
 Here we found considerable snow still lying on 
 the cool floor of the pinery, and signs of the Indians 
 were numerous. They had been about the spring in 
 
 considerable numbers, and the greenest scout in our 
 
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Fighting the Mill Greeks. 5 
 
 party could easily discover their trails leading 
 through the forest. 
 
 We were taken into a steep, sheltered ravine, 
 where it was thought we would be hidden ; then Good 
 and Spauldiag set out on a still hunt to try and lo- 
 cate the Indians' camp. 
 
 Our leaders had been gone but a short time when 
 the mountains on both sides of us suddenly began to 
 blaze with rifle shots, the reports booming heavily 
 through the dense forest. The Indians had taken 
 the first trick. To say that we were a startled lot of 
 man-hunters would be to put it mildly. I frankly 
 admit that I was ready to run four ways at once. 
 Our retreat was a scramble for first place. I had,' 
 another man's rifle and someone else had' mine. A 
 companion and I were streaking it up the hill, slip- 
 ping on the pine needles and making, it seemed to uS; 
 about as much progress backward as forward. The 
 bullets of the Indians were playing lively tunes 
 about our ears. Suddenly a small pine limb, clipped 
 off by a piece of lead, fell just over the other man 's 
 head, and at the same instant he fell flat and lay 
 limp. I sprang toward him, reached down and 
 clasped his body in my arms, determined to do my 
 best to rescue his body; but I felt his sides shaking 
 convulsively in my hands and in a second he had 
 rolled over, laughing heartily, and asked : 
 
 "What's the rush? What the devil are you run- 
 ning for?" 
 
 His fall was due to the pine needles and not to 
 a bullet. 
 
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6 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 When we had finally gathered together at the 
 head of the hollow and had taken a hasty inventory 
 of our numbers, our excitement was in no wise al- 
 layed. One man was gone ! The Indians had got a 
 scalp ! 
 
 There was nothing to do but to return to the 
 scene of the ambush and make a search for the body. 
 The Indians had stopped firing now and, of course, 
 were nowhere to be seen. Slowly and cautiously we 
 crept back down the ravine, peering and peeping, 
 and ready to shoot at the first thing that moved, or 
 to run at the first sound, we hardly knew which. 
 But, behold! at last we found our missing comrade, 
 sitting placidly upon a rock and wondering where 
 the profanely qualified nation we had been ! He was 
 extremely deaf and swore that he had not heard a 
 single shot nor seen an Indian. 
 
 Good and Spaulding soon came running up, as 
 ready for retreat as the rest of us. As soon as we 
 got into something like order, the Indians melted 
 away, but the surprise had taken all the hunt out of 
 us for the time. 
 
 The next morning we started for the valley, the 
 Indians hanging on our flanks and rear, clear to the 
 edge of the hills. Many times, as we topped a ridge 
 and looked back, we could see our dusky pursuers 
 peering over the last ridge behind us and keeping 
 tab upon our movements. It was useless to attempt 
 to lead them into an ambush, for they knew our 
 exact number, and as we wound up the slope ahead 
 
 of them they would make their count, and if our full 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 7 
 
 number was not in sight would make a detour around 
 the intervening ravine. 
 
 We were gone on this expedition four days, and 
 on our return had to draw pretty freely upon our 
 imaginations for stories that would satisfy our 
 friends. 
 
 After this, I became better acquainted with Hi 
 Good. He lived near me on Deer Creek, and we 
 were together on several of the subsequent Indian 
 hunts. We both thought that the savages would be 
 encouraged by our failure to beat them, and warned 
 our neighbors to be on the alert. 
 
 Our surmises were correct. In a short time a 
 neighbor's barn was visited in the night and four 
 very valuable mules spirited away. The Indians had 
 a habit of stealing all horses and mules that they 
 could lay their hands on, driving them into the hills 
 and butchering them. Perhaps they preferred them 
 to cattle, because with them they could beat a more 
 hasty retreat ; but it always seemed to me as if they 
 liked horse-flesh better than beef and mule-flesh 
 better than either. 
 
 Upon receiving word of this last robbery, Good 
 and I enlisted as helpers a young -^man named Jones 
 and another named George Carter, and started for 
 the hills. These young men seemed to have plenty of 
 nerve, especially Jones, who had been with us on the 
 former hunt and who, I believe, was the coolest man 
 of the party when the surprise came. 
 
 We advanced swiftly into the hills, picked up 
 the Indians' trail, and, the second day out, located 
 
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8 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 their camp. They were snuggled away near the bed 
 of Dry Creek, well up toward the head of that 
 stream, but still several miles below the pinery. 
 ' We promptly made an attack. We were sheltered 
 behind bowlders, while the Mill Creeks were partial- 
 ly protected by a cave. However, we had obtained 
 a position from which we could shoot directly into 
 the cave and it was not long until we had them 
 moving. 
 
 We got no Indians, but recaptured considerable 
 stolen plunder. They had killed the mules. On this 
 and subsequent hunts we learned that the crafty 
 fellows made a practice of secreting their supply of 
 "jerked" mule-meat or other provisions in some 
 spot at a distance from where they camped, so that 
 if their camp were surprised their food would still 
 be safe, and in all the years that I followed them 
 I never but once found their hidden meat-house. 
 
 We returned home much elated with our success. 
 Indeed, it put quite a bunch of feathers in our caps 
 when compared with our previous attempt. 
 
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CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE "Boys in the Hills," as the Indians were 
 frequently called, were not at all satisfied with 
 such an ending of their raid, so soon left an- 
 other midnight mark upon the whites. Our only 
 chance to reach them was through a surprise, so we 
 permitted several small raids to go by unnoticed, ifi 
 order that our chances of springing a surprise would 
 be strengthened. 
 
 In fact, the depredations continued all through 
 the winter of '57 and '58, and finally complaints 
 were made to General Kibbey, who was then sta- 
 tioned at Sacramento, and a company of troopers 
 was sent up the river by steamboat. They disem- 
 barked at Tehama and caused quite a ripple of ex- 
 citement in that thriving river town by the glitter 
 of their arms and uniforms. 
 
 Hi Good and I went to see them after they had 
 made camp, and both of us came to the conclusion 
 that they might be successful in an open country, 
 but that there was little chance of their capturing 
 any Indians in the hills. 
 
 Our conclusions proved to be well-founded. The 
 troops, well-mounted, marched gallantly out across 
 the plains and swept up the slope of the hills in fine 
 military array. Their first search seemed to be 
 
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10 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 directed to finding a good camping place, but before 
 tbey found it the Mill Creeks found them, and back 
 to the valley they marched, making rather better 
 time than on the upward march. 
 
 As a matter of course, this encouraged the "Boys 
 in the Hills." Again the troops made an advance 
 and again they were surprised and forced to re- 
 treat. This occurred several times, and the soldiers 
 finally gave it up as a bad job and quit the game. 
 
 Prom this time onward it seemed as though the 
 Indians never let a chance slip to do the whites dam- 
 age. Affairs went on in this way until the spring 
 of 1859, when the raids became so frequent that the 
 valley was thoroughly roused. It was decided to 
 raise a subscription among the settlers in order to 
 get means to carry on an exhaustive campaign 
 against the renegades, a number of atrocious mur- 
 ders having by this time been added to the list of 
 the Indians' misdeeds. 
 
 A fund of three thousand dollars was secured and 
 placed, I think, in the hands of a man named Cohen. 
 Cohen was a merchant who conducted a store at the 
 Mayhew stage station on Deer Creek. Hi Good, John 
 Breckenridge and myself, together with "William 
 Simmons, John Martin, John McCord, one Cartin 
 and a man whom we called "Slim," were selected 
 and engaged to hunt the red men for two months. 
 This gave us a company of six to press the chase, 
 with two to care for our pack animals and attend 
 camp. We had two mules and a horse to carry our 
 supplies, but no animals to ride, for we knew that 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 11 
 
 the trail we were about to follow would lead us into 
 the wildest and most rugged gorges of the Northern 
 Sierras. 
 
 Learning of our intended expedition, Geiieral 
 Kibbey sent Captain Burns of the army to take com- 
 mand of our party. He arrived in good time and we 
 started on June the 15th. It was, I think, the hot- 
 test day I ever experienced in the Sacramento Val- 
 ley. Many of the old settlers will remember the 
 time, as it was the day that old Tehama burned. 
 
 We marched across the dreary, lava-capped foot- 
 hills on the south side of Deer Creek, and the first 
 day's march proved Captain Burns' unfitness for the 
 task before us. He became completly exhausted, and 
 was sent back to the valley from Deer Creek Flats, 
 where we had made our first camp, and that ended 
 his participation in the two months' htmt. 
 
 Left to our own resources, we elected Breeken- 
 ridge captain and pressed forward. The Indians 
 were evidently well posted as to our movements and 
 intentions, for they secreted their squaws and 
 papooses in the most hidden recesses of the moun- 
 tains and then proceeded to lead us a merry chase 
 through the dark forests and rugged canyons. 
 
 McCord was well acquainted with the hills, and 
 with one companion he usually moved camp, often 
 taking roundabount ways to reach points which the 
 balance of us gained by following the routes taken 
 by the Indians. 
 
 Our first separation from our train occurred at 
 th6 Plats. McCord and companion went by way of 
 
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12 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 the ridge up which the Campbell Trail now leads, 
 crossed Deer Creek at about the poiut now known 
 as the Polk place, and thence moved northward to 
 Bluff Camp. The rest of us, with provisions enough 
 to last two days, crossed Deer Creek near the mouth 
 of Sulphur Creek, climbed the north wall of the 
 canyon, and so on across Digger Pine Flat and to the 
 pinery about in the region of the Moak Trail. 
 
 At Bluff Camp we rejoined McCord. After hold- 
 ing a council, Breckenridge decided that it was best 
 to send a scouting party up the Lassen Trail as far 
 as Deer Creek Meadows, in hopes of picking up the 
 Indians' trail. Our entire party moved up the ridge 
 past Lost Camp and on over what is called the Sum- 
 mit, although it is no real water divide, and down 
 into the cold valley of Onion Creek. This stream is 
 named from the patches of wild onions that are 
 found here and there along its course. 
 
 Here we left our camp, while Breckenridge, Hi 
 Good and myself, with the two mules, pushed on to 
 Deer Creek Meadows. We found no Indian signs, 
 but as we approached the level, grassy floor of the 
 meadow we spied five grizzly bears busy among some 
 rotten logs that lay near a cluster of tamaracks. At 
 once we proposed a bear hunt. Breckenridge con- 
 sented, providing that he could engineer the sport. 
 Hi and I agreed to this, as our acquaintance with 
 grizzlies was very limited. 
 
 Accordingly the captain led the pack animals 
 back into the heavy timber which covered the sur- 
 rounding mountains and grew to the very edge of 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 13 
 
 the meadow. Tying them securely he returned and 
 directed us each to pick out a convenient tree that 
 we were sure we could climb in case of necessity. 
 After providing ourselves, like prudent soldiers, with 
 our means of retreat, we slipped forward a short 
 distance, keeping out of sight of the bears behind a 
 big log. Breckenridge was to take the first shot, 
 and he told us to hammer away at the bear he should 
 shoot until it was done for. The affair had to be 
 handled quite differently to what it would today, as 
 we had none but muzzle-loading rifles and six- 
 shooters. 
 
 When all were ready, Breckenridge threw a shot 
 into a huge grizzly and it ripped at its side with its 
 teeth and sent up a terrific bellow. Hi and I let go 
 at the wounded beast and we soon had it down and 
 out. Then on to the next. For a time we were kept 
 mighty busy loading and firing, but the bears never 
 seemed to know where the shots were coming from, 
 and so our trees were not put to use. We killed four 
 and sent the fifth one off badly crippled. 
 
 They_ were huge creatures, weighing, I should 
 judge, a thousand pounds each. We carefully re- 
 moved their galls, which we knew we could sell to 
 Chinamen. The Chinese use them in preparing some 
 kind of medicine and in those days often paid as 
 high as fifteen dollars apiece for them. The feet we 
 also lopped off. They were to serve as food. After 
 being roasted in hot ashes they make a most tooth- 
 some dish. The sixteen feet made a considerable 
 pack in themselves. The carcasses and skins we left. 
 
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CHAPTER III. 
 
 FINISHING our bear hunt, we returned to Onion 
 Creek and our entire party then moved back 
 to Bluff Camp. Having failed to strike Indian 
 signs up-country, we decided to swing down into 
 Mill Creek Canyon and cross toward Black Butte 
 on the north side of that stream. 
 
 On that day's march, "Williams and I had charge 
 of the pack animals. While making our way along 
 the steep side of the canyon we came to a slide full 
 of loose shale. To climb above or below it seemed 
 a hopeless task, so we quickly decided to attempt to 
 hustle our animals across it. We made a brisk start, 
 but in a moment packs and animals, men and guns 
 were tumbling and bouncing and rolling toward Mill 
 Creek at a rate that would have established a record, 
 I am sure, if there had been a stop-watch present to 
 time our speed. Our pack animals got out of the 
 scrape with nothing worse than a few bruises, but I 
 was less fortunate, as I wrenched my ankle badly 
 and for a time was in great pain. 
 
 We crossed to the north side of the creek and 
 made camp. Being unfit for scouting duty, I was 
 left with McCord to tend camp, while the balance of 
 the party separated, three going up and three down 
 the canyon to look for sign. They remained away 
 all night. 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 15 
 
 We were camped on a point some distance up 
 from the creek, the stream forming a bend around 
 the foot of the point. As is usual in this rough can- 
 yon, the point ended in a series of cliffs. During the 
 evening we heard chopping, and after a time a tree 
 fell. We were speculating about the matter, and in 
 the meantime keeping outside the circle of light cast 
 by our little fire, when a rifle shot suddenly rang 
 out and a bullet spat into our camp. We seized our 
 rifles and prepared for a brush, but our stealthy foes 
 kept out of sight, though they continued to throw 
 lead in the direction of our camp until well into the 
 night. However, no damage was done except to in- 
 terfere with a good night's sleep. 
 
 Next morning we made an investigation and 
 found that a large party of Indians had been camped 
 under the cliffs only a few hundred yards below us, 
 and that a tree had been thrown across the creek to 
 aiford them a bridge to the south side. The camp 
 had evidently been occupied by the women and chil- 
 dren, with only a few men, but of course the entire 
 party was now gone. 
 
 When Breckenridge returned, we made Our re- 
 port and took him down to the deserted camp. As 
 soon as he found that the runaways were women 
 and children, he said : 
 
 "Let them go; we must find the warriors." 
 
 Again scouting parties were sent out. Although 
 my ankle was still somewhat stiff and swollen, I was 
 able to make pretty fair headway along the rough 
 and rocky hillsides. I went down the canyon and 
 
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16 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 after traveling a mile or more discovered a fresh 
 trail leading northward toward the head of Paynes 
 Creek. It had been made by warriors, fully a dozen 
 in number. 
 
 I reported to our captain and our plans were 
 quickly made. The pack animals were sent around 
 by a devious course to meet us again at Battle Creek 
 Meadows, while we followed the trail. 
 
 We were beginning by this time to get an under- 
 standing of the signs by means of which the Indians 
 regulated their movements, and this knowledge later 
 became of great use to us. For instance, they were 
 traveling toward the north. On top of the first ridge 
 that the trail crossed would be found three stones 
 piled one upon another on some rock. This meant 
 that the party was to come together for camp or 
 other purposes in the third canyon beyond. On the 
 next ridge would be two stones placed in the same 
 way upon a wayside bowlder, and on the next one. 
 Thus, a party, finding a monument of stones, had but 
 to count the stones in order to know where the meet- 
 ing place was to be, and immediately, if there were 
 a number together, they would scatter, each man to 
 himself, only to congregate later at the appointed 
 place. After we once learned to read these signs, 
 much tedious trailing was saved us, for we had but 
 to count the intervening ridges, as the Indians did, 
 and devote our close work to the final hollow. 
 
 "We made the advance to Battle Creek Meadows 
 without mishap T^Ma^tiful^ittle valley was at 
 this time a perfect sea of tall grass, in the midst of 
 
Fighting the Mill Creeks. 17 
 
 which, along the winding streams, were magnificent 
 beds of wild strawberries; yet the forest surround- 
 ing the meadows was still streaked with drifts of 
 snow. 
 
 In the edge of the meadow we found where the 
 Indians had camped. As well as we could read the 
 signs, they were two nights ahead of us. They had 
 left a couple of green bear skins lying beside their 
 extinguished fire. 
 
 It was near the end of the day when we discov- 
 ered the abandoned camp, and, as our pack train had 
 not yet arrived, we decided to try to get some veni- 
 son and at the same time endeavor to discover which 
 way the Indians had taken on departing. 
 
 Good and Simmons went up the creek, while Wil- 
 liams and I went down. Simmons shot at and 
 wounded a bear. It chased him and he yelled for Hi 
 to shoot it. Before the latter could come up, how- 
 ever, Simmons was so closely pressed that he con- 
 eluded his time had come. He had not been able to 
 reload his rifle and there was no tree close by that 
 he could climb. Finally, when the bear was close 
 upon him, he stopped and the beast, instead of clos- 
 ing in on him, immediately began to circle around 
 him, growling savagely. Hi came up, and afterwards 
 declared that it was equal to a one-ringed circus to 
 see Simmons turning cautiously around so as to keep 
 his face to the circling beast. After enjoying the 
 show for a while. Hi threw a shot into the bear, and 
 it made for the timber, badly crippled. 
 
 Meanwhile, "Williams and I had been having our 
 
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18 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 share of the fun. We were traveling along close to 
 the willows that fringed the creek, when a large, 
 barren doe sprang up. We both shot at her and one 
 of our bullets broke her hip. I followed the deer 
 into the willows, without stopping to reload my rifle, 
 and, soon catching sight of her, finished her with a 
 shot from my six-shooter. As I was threshing through 
 the brush to where she lay, Williams suddenly 
 shouted : 
 
 "Look out for that bear!" 
 
 I whirled about and beheld a huge grizzly stalk- 
 ing deliberately through the willows, not fifty feet 
 away. Without stopping to consider what I was 
 doing, I cut loose with my revolver, and down the 
 big beast went, slashing the ground with his teeth. 
 In a second he was up, and I fired again and down he 
 went a second time. So a third and a fourth bullet I 
 threw into him, and then it abruptly dawned upon 
 me that I had but one bullet lift in my six-shooter 
 and none in my rifle. Luckily, the bear paid no at- 
 tention whatever to me. In fact, it appeared not to 
 have seen me. Williams now gave it a shot from his 
 rifle and it put off through the willows. The next 
 morning we found it lying dead not far away. 
 
 The pack animals joined us that night, but our 
 provisions were too low to warrant us in starting 
 on a long chase, so four of us were sent over toward 
 Hot Spring Valley to hunt for deer. We got five, 
 and, returning to camp, were busy "jerking" the 
 meat, when some of our scouts discovered the In- 
 dians' trail leading out toward the Lassen Buttes. 
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CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 SIX of us promptly set out upon the trail, carry- 
 ing eaeli four days' rations, and a hard run we 
 had of it. Up through the heavy forest to the 
 lofty backbone west of what is now called the Mor- 
 gan Springs Valley, along this high ridge until we 
 had reached the upper timber line, and still onward 
 and upward until we found ourselves upon Lassen's 
 snow-capped peak. The trail led directly past the 
 Buttes, west of the dreary lava of the Cinder Cone 
 region and. on toward the unmapped canyon of Pitt 
 River. 
 
 On the border of that turbulent stream the red- 
 skins doubled on us, and once more we were headed 
 toward the south. Our camp had been ordered to 
 return to Black Buttes on Mill Creek, and to await 
 us there. Coming back on a course much farther 
 west than that followed on the outward trip, we 
 eame upon a sawmill out in the region northeast of 
 Red Bluff. There great excitement prevailed. The 
 skulking Indians, preceding us by a day, had run 
 upon one of the bull-punchers near the mill, had 
 killed him and chased his team over a cliff. 
 
 Some of the lumber-jacks were trying to find the 
 Indians, while others seemed to be afraid that the 
 Indians would find them. Our provisions were gone, 
 so we went to the cook-house and demanded food. 
 We got what we asked for and hurried onward, the 
 trail still leading us toward the south. 
 
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20 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 During these severe days our rations consisted 
 principally of sugar. Each man could carry enough 
 to last him several days, and, eked out with man- 
 zanita berries, this ration really kept us in good 
 strength. The time ordinarily spent in cooking was 
 saved and gave us that much more time for the busi- 
 ness of following the trail. We soon got in the habit 
 of keeping our hunger appeased by frequently dip- 
 ping into our little sugar sacks, and not infrequently 
 followed the trail for ten or even twelve hours at a 
 stretch without a single stop of more than a few 
 minutes' duration. When it grew too dark for us 
 to read the ground sign, we had but to scrape to- 
 gether a pile of leaves or pine needles and sleep un- 
 til daylight should come again, and then proceed on 
 our way. 
 
 We crossed Mill Creek and Deer Creek and fol- 
 lowed the trail as far as the Keefer ridge, between 
 Rock Creek and Chico Creek. Our provisions were 
 by this time completely exhausted, so we returned 
 to the valley for more. 
 
 While in the valley a message reached us from 
 the Butte Creek country, warning us to follow the 
 Indians no farther, and stating that a company of 
 fifteen miners would be waiting for us if we persisted 
 in the pursuit. We had always felt certain that the 
 Mill Creeks procured arms and ammunition through 
 friendly relations with whites. This note of warning 
 seemed to settle the matter, and to indicate where 
 the whites in question were to be found. 
 
 We thought it best to secure reinforcements be- 
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fore making another advance. My brother, Jack, 
 who lived with me on Deer Creek, and a man named 
 Bates joined our force. We returned to the hills and 
 made camp at a little spruig near the present site of 
 the Cole place on the Cohasset ridge. 
 
 Believing that the Indians were reinforced, not 
 only by the fifteen miners, but by some of the Butte 
 Creek Indians as well, we now used every precau- 
 tion in trailing them. Hi Good and I did most of 
 the scouting. One of us would follow the ground 
 sign, while the other acted as lookout to avoid run- 
 ning into an ambush. We had to do most of our 
 work by daylight, but the balance of the party 
 moved only at night. 
 
 Crossing Chieo Creek Canyon, we reached the 
 ridge beyond, and finally discovered what seemed to 
 be a large camp at or near the present site of the 
 Forest Ranch. After a careful study of the ground, 
 we returned to our camp. On this return trip we ran 
 upon an Indian scout, and after a long, hard chase, 
 killed him. We carried his scalp to camp with us, 
 this being, the first trophy we had taken in the cam- 
 paign. 
 
 Upon receiving our report. Captain Breckenridge 
 at once gave orders for an advance. Of course, we 
 had to move in the night. It was a weary climb out 
 of Chico Creek Canyon in the darkness, but we made 
 it and succeeded in surrounding the hostile camp 
 before daylight. Our number being limited and hav- 
 ing a pretty large circle to form, it left us separated, 
 man from man, by spaces of about seventy-five yards. 
 
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22 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 I had been assigned to a position eastward of the 
 camp and very close, as I afterward learned, to the 
 trail which led toward the mining village at the 
 forks of Butte Creek. The forest trees afforded us 
 ample hiding places and we had been ordered to 
 hold our fire until it was perfectly light. Hi Good 
 was on my right and Brother Jack upon my left. 
 
 As the gray dawn melted into daylight, the out- 
 lines of the camp became clearer. It was evidently 
 a permanent meeting place, as there were signs of its 
 having been frequently occupied. Directly in front 
 of me and standing something like a hundred yards 
 apart were two lofty pine trees, trimmed of branches 
 except for small tufts of foliage on their tops, and, 
 what was my surprise, as the heavens grew brighter, 
 to behold a large American flag depending from the 
 top of each tree. 
 
 The Indians, as we afterward learned, had been 
 enjoying a celebration in company with their friends 
 from Butte Creek, and did not prove to be early 
 risers. The sun had crept up to the tops of the pines 
 on the hill east of us before there was any stir in the 
 camp. Then a man emerged from a cluster of little 
 firs and came shuffling up the trail directly toward 
 where I lay. Captain Breckenridge had not yet given 
 the signal to commence firing, so I slipped around 
 my tree in order to remain hidden. As the man ap- 
 proached and passed me, I perceived that he was 
 not an Indian, but a Spaniard. However, birds 
 flocking together on this occasion were to be con- 
 sidered birds of a feather. The man had got but 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 23 
 
 a few paces past me when Hi Good spied him. In a 
 moment Good's rifle spoke, and the Spaniard, 
 wounded, sprang back toward the camp. As he ran 
 another rifle over on the other side of our circle 
 cracked, and he fell dead. 
 
 The camp was roused. In a twinkling, up the 
 Indians sprang, men, women and children, and as if 
 with one impulse they swarmed up the slope directly 
 toward where I lay. In a moment I was enveloped 
 in the' wild stampede. I shot and then clubbed my 
 rifle and struggled against the rush. Good and Jack 
 came to my assistance, and together we turned them 
 back. The balance of our party v/ere pouring shots 
 into them and they soon began to seek shelter amid 
 the logs and thickets of small forest trees. 
 
 Our orders from Breckenridge had been to allow 
 no one to break through the circle, but to spare the 
 women and children. This was a most difficult pro- 
 gram to carry out. The bucks were armed and were 
 returning our fire. The squaws soon .perceived that 
 we were seeking to spare their lives, and so they 
 clung to the bucks. This made it difficult to get a 
 bead upon the one without endangering the other. 
 Seeing that this state of affairs would not do, we sent 
 word from man to man around to the captain and 
 asked him for new orders. Soon the word came 
 back: "Let the squaws and children pass out." 
 
 Good, who could speak the Indian dialect, 
 promptly shouted the order to the Indians. They 
 eagerly seized upon the suggestion, but we were 
 soon to learn that the order was a serious mistake. 
 
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24 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 A warrior I would wrap himself in a blanket, throw 
 another blanket or a basket over his head, with a 
 rifle concealed next his body, seize a child by the 
 hand, or hoist one upon his back, and go shuffling 
 past us. 
 
 Soon we came in possession of the camp. There 
 was not a bad Indian to be found, but about forty 
 good ones lay scattered about. 
 
 "While rejoicing over our victory, shots began to 
 ring out and bullets to sing about our ears, and we 
 suddenly found ourselves where so lately we had 
 had the Indians. They were shooting at us from all 
 sides. I heard Hi Good cursing like a wagon-master 
 and saw him trying to get a bead on an Indian. He 
 was behind a tree, from both sides of which pieces 
 of bark were flying as from a woodman's ax. How- 
 ever, our luck had not deserted us. Not one of our 
 party was hit. "We charged and scattered the In- 
 dians, then kept out guards while we prepared and 
 ate our breakfasts. 
 
 Two barrels, partly filled with whiskey, were in 
 the camp, as well as other evidences which pointed 
 to the fact that whites had joined with the redskins 
 in the recent celebration. "We soon took our depar- 
 ture for our own camp across Chico Creek, each 
 man well burdened with plunder from the captured 
 camp. I had found three good six-shooters, which I 
 thrust under my belt, thinking these to be about as 
 useful as anything to be had. 
 
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CHAPTER V. 
 
 WE were filing down the hill into Chico Creek 
 Canyon, and were perhaps a little careless 
 of our advance, when we ran suddenly into 
 an ambush. Six or seven of the Mill Creeks, un- 
 doubtedly part of those who had escaped from the 
 camp, had hidden along the trail and, suddenly ris- 
 ing above the birch brush, let us have it. "We were 
 strung along in single file. Six- of our party were 
 ahead of me, and I suddenly saw them all go down. 
 However, not one was hurt. The Indians disappeared 
 in an instant. In the one glimpse I caught of them 
 I threw up my rifle and fired. I saw one fall with a 
 broken thigh, and sprang after him. Just as I leaped 
 the man behind me fired and the powder from his 
 rifle blackened my right ear. Sliding and crawling 
 down the steep hillside, the wounded Indian could 
 travel nearly as fast as I could. I chased him nearly 
 to the bottom of the canyon before I finished him. 
 The chase cost me my three new six-shooters, all of 
 which were pulled from my belt by the clinging 
 brush. 
 
 I rejoined the balance of the party and we had 
 pushed on well down to the creek, when we discov- 
 ered five of the Indians far above us upon a cliff on 
 the north wall of the canyon. For a few minutes we 
 
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26 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 discussed the probabilities of their being the same 
 party which had ambushed us. Some of our party 
 believed that they were not Indians at all. 
 
 During the discussion, I was standing looking 
 upward, the left side of my head touching an oak 
 tree. All at once I saw a puff of smoke arise from 
 the distant cliff, and in a moment I was down and 
 out. A bullet had cut in between my head and the 
 oak, driven my scalp full of bark, and left me sense- 
 less for twenty minutes. The scar from that shot 
 forms a very considerable bald spot on my head to- 
 day. 
 
 We returned to our camp on the Keefer ridge. 
 A man by the name of King at that time had a saw" 
 mill a few miles farther up the ridge. Just after we 
 reached camp, two teamsters drove up the old road 
 toward this mill. One of them was my old friend. 
 Perry Mcintosh, the other a man named Lindsay. I 
 told Breckenridge that some of us ought to overtake 
 the teamsters and guard them to the mill, as the In- 
 dians were likely to overhaul them. The captain 
 thought that the trip to the mill could be made in 
 safety. 
 
 However, it was not. The Indians, sure enough, 
 spied the teamsters, waylaid them, and shot Lindsay. 
 Mcintosh escaped, reached the mill, and later res- 
 cued Lindsay, who subsequently recovered. 
 
 News of the fight at Forest Ranch quickly reached 
 
 the valley, and for a time exaggerated stories were 
 
 in circulation to the effect that our entire party had 
 
 been killed. Coon Garner raised a party of fifteen 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 27 
 
 and hastened into the hills to look us up. If I re- 
 member correctly, P. M. Guynn and Dan Sutherland 
 are the only surviving members of that party: 
 
 We had moved back across Chico Creek, and Gar- 
 ner's party found us encamped near the site of the 
 Doe Mill. We had revisited the battle-ground at 
 Forest Ranch, only to find that the surviving In- 
 dians had returned and burned the bodies of their 
 slain. 
 
 We were not yet satisfied with the state of affairs 
 at the forks of Butte Creek. Scouting through that 
 canyon we jumped some Indians, who promptly ran 
 for the bottom of the canyon. Our enlarged party at 
 once swarmed down the hillside toward the mining 
 town. Breckenridge had ordered us to kill any In- 
 dian found even in the streets of the village, but to 
 shoot none who had sought shelter within the houses. 
 
 Some of the fleeing Indians headed straight for 
 the village. Knowing a short course to a footbridge 
 where I believed they would cross the stream, I 
 called to Williams and together we raced to that 
 point. We succeeded in tumbling several Indians off 
 the bridge into the creek as they sought to cross. 
 
 Then we entered the village. The Indians were 
 there in considerable numbers, but all had prudently 
 disappeared within the houses. A man named Wal- 
 lace conducted a store. He resented our appearance, 
 and, stepping outside his store, shouted to us that 
 if a single Indian were killed he would follow us up 
 and kill six white men. As soon as Breckenridge 
 entered the town, I reported Wallace's remark. 
 
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28 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 "Point out that man to me!" said he, abruptly. 
 
 "He is standing back of that counter, and has 
 two six-shooters beside him," replied I. 
 
 ' ' Can you cover him from where you stand ? ' ' 
 
 I answered that I could, and at once threw my 
 gun on the man. Breekenridge entered the store, 
 strode up to Wallace, and told him very plainly why 
 we had followed the Indians to Butte Creek. He de- 
 clared that we had long suspected and now had proof 
 that the Mill Creeks received support from either 
 the Butte Creek Indians or the miners, or both, and 
 that the arms and ammunition secured in this way 
 were used to murder white people of the country 
 farther north. Breekenridge was not a pleasant man 
 to have for an enemy, and Wallace had departed 
 very far from his boastful, threatening manner be- 
 fore the former was through with him. 
 
 We learned later that the store-keeper's squaw 
 had received a wound in the Forest Ranch fight, 
 which fact probably accounted for the stand Wallace 
 took. In the course of the controversy, he remarked 
 that if we had been a day earlier at Forest Ranch 
 we would have found him at the camp, to which he 
 received the comforting reply that if such had been 
 the case he would surely have met with exactly the 
 same treatment as that accorded the Indians. 
 
 All this time a group of Indians was stationed in 
 back part of the store. After Breekenridge had 
 freed his mind to Wallace, I told some of the boys to 
 keep an eye on the store-keeper, as I wished to take 
 a look at an In^^z^^mcHske^ seen in the back 
 
Fighting the Mill Creeks. 29 
 
 room. This Indian was seated upon a keg. I had 
 recognized him as a young fellow whom I had shot 
 down during the Forest Ranch fight, thinking him 
 dead, only to find him missing after the battle. 
 
 I approached him now and asked him how he 
 felt, to which he made no reply. I was curious to 
 learn just how much an Indian could endure in the 
 way of a gun-shot wound. I pulled his shirt up over 
 his head and there were the wounds, indicating that 
 my bullet had entered his right breast and passed 
 out under his left shoulder-blade. The bullet must 
 have been deflected in some way, since a straight 
 line drawn from one wound to the other would have 
 pierced his heart ; yet here he sat, apparently in good 
 health, three days after the battle ! 
 
 We moved camp to a ridge some miles below the 
 forks and spent several days trying to straighten out 
 affairs with the Indians of Butte Creek. We cap- 
 tured a chief called ' ' The Old Captain, ' ' and, as soon 
 as he found himself within our power, he professed 
 to be very friendly and assured us that if we would 
 but lie low for a time he and his men would capture 
 the remainder of the Mill Creeks for us. 
 
 I had no faith whatever m the old fellow, or in 
 his protestations of friendship; but fereckenridge 
 seemed to think that he could be trusted, or at least 
 that it was our duty to give him a trial. As a sort 
 of hostage, we kept "The Old Captain" in our camp 
 while a young Indian of his clan, called "Tony," 
 was sent out to muster the warriors. He returned 
 with about fifteen of them, and they spent several 
 
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30 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 days in our midst. They declared that the proper 
 way to get the Mill Creeks was to slip up on them 
 and fight in the old style of Indian warfare,— that is, 
 with bows and arrows. During several days they 
 made much ado of practicing with these ancient 
 weapons, and I must do them the credit of saying 
 that some of them shot extremely well. Finally a 
 war party set out, under the leadership of "Tony,'~^ 
 ' ' The Old Captain ' ' still being held as hostage. 
 
 The chief's squaw was allowed to visit him, and 
 she came and went at will, thus, of course, keeping 
 him in communication with the rest of his people, 
 those who pretended to be on the warpath included. 
 During the day he was allowed to roam about our 
 camp, but at night he was lodged in a vacant cabin 
 that stood near, one man being detailed to guard 
 him. 
 
 One night, after Tony's party had been several 
 days gone, the old rascal pretended to be very sick, 
 and finally prevailed upon his guard to lead him 
 some distance from the cabin. They had barely got 
 beyond the bounds of the sleeping encampment when 
 the Indian made a sudden break for liberty. The 
 guard gave chase, and after a hundred-yard dash 
 overhauled him and brought him back. Thereafter 
 he was secured by ropes. 
 
 This action of the chief convinced Breckenridge 
 of my way of thinking regarding the trickery of 
 the Butte Creeks, so it was decided to hunt up the 
 pretended war party and see what they were up to. 
 
 The following morning we split up into scouting par- 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 31 
 
 ties and set out. Ad Williams and I made a search 
 of the canyon in the direction of Hell Town. We 
 were advancing along the ridge, from which we 
 could keep a sharp lookout into the ravines below 
 and upon the opposite wall of the canyon. I finally 
 spied some figures far below us, and on the opposite 
 side of the creek. They soon disappeared within a 
 dense thicket, and, not long afterward, we were able 
 to make out a faint ribbon of smoke curling up above 
 the brush. 
 
 We decided to investigate, so slid cautiously 
 down the hillside, crossed the creek, and, creeping 
 into the thicket, found seven of our Butte Creek 
 "allies" lounging idly about a tiny fire. Tony was 
 among the number. We lost no time in making 
 them our prisoners and starting with them back to 
 camp. 
 
 While we were toiling up the hill, within perhaps 
 a mile of our destination, we suddenly heard a fusil- 
 lade of shots coming from the direction of our camp. 
 The shooting continued for some time, those engaged 
 seeming to be moving toward the breaks of the can- 
 yon, the last shot or two being fired over the slope 
 of the ridge. 
 
 We soon reached camp and learned the cause of 
 the disturbance. Those of our party who were in 
 camp had been scattered carelessly about, paying 
 no heed to '"The Old Captain," who suddenly 
 jumped free from his ropes, gave a triumphant 
 whoop, and started like a deer toward the canyon. 
 He had secured a knife in some way, cut his bonds 
 
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32 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 beneath his blanket, and then made his second break 
 for liberty. 
 
 None of the "Whites had their rifles at hand, but 
 most of them promptly drew their six-shooters and 
 opened on the scudding red man. His rush was so 
 sudden, however, that he escaped the first scattering 
 volley and outstripped all his pursuers excepting Hi 
 Good, who was swift of foot and had great powers 
 of endurance. 
 
 Good continued to run and shoot without bring- 
 ing the Indian down, until he had emptied his re- 
 volver. Not being able to reload on the run, he 
 swept onward with his weapon empty, and, getting 
 close enough soon after crossing the brow of the 
 hill, he threw his revolver and knocked the Indian 
 down. Before the latter could recover. Good over- 
 hauled him and soon after returned with him to 
 camp. The chief had been shot twice in the chase 
 and was so badly wounded that when we moved 
 away we left him to the care of his squaw. I think 
 that he subsequently recovered. 
 
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CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ANOTHER incident that occurred while we were 
 encamped at this place might be 
 worthy of mention. Two of our 
 party, Bates and a man named Wash Cox, 
 the latter being of Garner's party, returned one 
 day from a hunting trip and said that they had killed 
 two bears and left them hanging in a tree. They 
 wished someone else to go after the carcasses. I 
 agreed to bring in the meat, and set out at once. 
 
 On reaching the spot to which they had directed 
 me, however, I was surprised and disgusted to find 
 two fat hogs awaiting me. After debating the situa- 
 tion in my own mind for a time, I finally decided to 
 carry the meat to camp, as I had promised. Imme- 
 diately on reaching camp, however, I reported the 
 affair to Breckenridge, and told him that it looked 
 like a" slippery trick, to get someone else besides 
 the real culprits involved. "^ 
 
 The captain looked at the matter in the same 
 light as myself, and he lost no time in calling Bates 
 and Cox before him. He told them that he would 
 not countenance any such thievery and ordered them 
 to hunt up a man named Harris, to whom it was 
 found the hogs belonged, pay him for the animals, 
 and that then they would be drummed out of camp 
 as unfit members of our party. 
 
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34 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 The two men left camp and stayed away for 
 some time. When they returned they asserted that 
 they had found Harris and offered him pay for the 
 hogs, which he refused. This may have been true, 
 but it did not lessen the offense of having killed the 
 animals. 
 
 The second part of the men's sentence had yet to 
 be carried out, Garner having agreed with Breeken- 
 ridge in the matter. Hi Good, as our second in com- 
 mand, was left to carry the order out. He com- 
 manded Bates and Cox to move, and ordered the rest 
 of us to provide all Jhe music that could be coaxed 
 out of the pots and pans of our camping outfit. The 
 rest of us were ready for our parts, but now a halt 
 came in the proceedings, for Bates entered a strong 
 protest. He swore that he would not be driven out 
 of camp in this way and that there were not enough 
 of us to force him to go. He stepped up to Good and 
 struck him and in a moment the two were fighting 
 desperately. Bates was a powerful man and for a 
 time it looked as though he would master his man, 
 but Good's endurance was the greater and he at 
 length knocked Bates down and was beating him 
 cruelly when I stopped him. Then the two men were 
 drummed out of camp, according to orders. 
 
 The recaptured Butte Creeks tried to explain 
 their failure to do as promised by pretending that 
 they had overtaken the Mill Creeks and been 
 whipped. They now promised to go with us and 
 lead us to the hiding places of the renegades. I con- 
 sidered this promis^^^ag Ut^e H^^ly to be fulfilled as 
 
Fighting the Mill Creeks. 35 
 
 the former one, but it was decided to give the In- 
 dians another trial. 
 
 Accordingly, it was arranged that the balance of 
 the party were to march through the hills to the 
 Sidoros place on Rock Creek, while Hi Good and I 
 should bring the seven captive Indians directly to 
 the valley, thence move northward along the edge 
 of the valley to the same point. We traveled as 
 rapidly as we could, but night overtook us when we 
 were but a short distance north of Chico Creek. We 
 decided to lie over till morning. We halted beneath 
 a large oak and I said to Hi : 
 
 "You guard the Indians the first half of the night 
 and I'll take the last half; or turn it about, just as 
 you like." 
 
 "Guard be d d!" said Good. "I'm going to 
 
 sleep."" 
 
 And he proceeded to snuggle down on the 
 ground. I told him that the Indians would knock 
 us on the head and skip out to join the Mill Creeks 
 as sure as we both slept, but he declared that they 
 wouldn't lay a finger upon us. Say what I could 
 he would take no hand in the guarding, so I sat 
 awake all night while he slept. The Indians made 
 no break, either to escape or to harm us, but I have 
 always felt satisfied that the white scalps that they 
 most longed to handle would have been dangling 
 at their belts in short order had I relaxed my vigi- 
 lance. 
 
 Next day we reached the Sidoros place, where the 
 entire party was reunited. After dinner, someone 
 
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36 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 remarked that there was a fine swimming hole up the 
 creek a mile or so. Old man McCord wanted to take 
 a swim. Immediately, Tony, the Indian, asked Breck- 
 enridge if he and his party could not go along and 
 shoot some fish with their arrows. Breckenridge 
 consented, and I volunteered to go along, saying 
 that a bath would not hurt me in the least. I was 
 satisfied that the Indians would try to escape. 
 
 We reached the swimming hole in due time, and 
 MeCord took his bath, while I sat on the bank, the 
 Indians meantime being very intent on their fishing. 
 They got several pike and suckers and appeared to 
 be very much interested in the sport. 
 
 After McCord left the water, I stripped and 
 plunged in. I had no sooner struck the water than 
 a whoop rang out, and, like a flash, every Indian 
 leaped into the brush and started to run up the creek. 
 McCord was too slow to stop them. I sprang up the 
 bank, seized my six-shooter and put after them. I 
 chased them for a mile and got only one flying shot, 
 but did no damage. In the course of the chase I 
 suddenly found myself running full tilt past a house 
 that stood amid some trees not far from the creek. 
 There were some members of the household standing 
 in the doorway, doubtless attracted by the scudding 
 Indians. I tortured my naked feet frightfully in the 
 course of that run ; nevertheless, I managed to make 
 a wide detour around that house on my return to 
 camp. The last I saw of the Butte Creeks they were 
 streaking it like quails up the hill toward where a 
 section of the Richardson rock-wall now stands. 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 37 
 
 It was about this time that word came to me that 
 the Indians had visited my place on Deer Creek, 
 burned my house and barn, killed five head of cattle 
 and practically cleaned me out. My brother, Jack, 
 was then living with me. Shortly before this, during 
 a trip to Marysville, he had purchased a seventy-flve- 
 doUar suit of clothes. Some time later, up Deer 
 Creek Canyon, I killed an Indian who had on the 
 vest and trousers of that suit. 
 
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CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IT was decided to give the Mill Creeks 
 another blow. We felt satisfied that those 
 who had escaped from Forest Ranch had 
 joined with another party in Deer Creek. 
 The main party, including Garner's force, 
 was to march back across the foothills and into 
 the pinery as far as Cold Springs, which lies on top 
 of the mountain south of Deer Creek, while scouting 
 parties were looking for fresh Indian sign in the 
 surrounding country. 
 
 Ad "Williams and I pushed north to Deer Creek 
 and then advanced up the rugged canyon of that 
 stream. On the second day out we struck a fresh 
 trail and that evening located the Indians' camp 
 in the bottom of the canyon, perhaps two miles 
 above where Tom Polk's cabin now stands. 
 
 We swung back to Cold Springs and made our 
 report. The main party at once dropped over the 
 ridge into the big canyon and began its slow, cau- 
 tious march toward the camp. When night fell again 
 we were not more than a mile below the camp. The 
 Indians gave no indications of being alarmed. Our 
 plans were accordingly made for the attack. During 
 the hours of darkness we would creep forward 
 through the steep, tangled ravines, surround the 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 39 
 
 sleeping Indians, and strike as soon as it became 
 light enough to draw bead. 
 
 The Indians were strung out for some distance 
 along the south side of the stream. It was broad 
 daylight before we were opposite the lower ones. 
 I was advancing with a number of others as rapidly 
 as possible along the steep hillside, in order to get 
 on the up-stream side, and was probably midway 
 of the scattered camp, when a rifle suddenly rang 
 out from somewhere in the rear of our line. Sim- 
 mons had spied a dusky form rising above a bowlder 
 and, thinking that we were discovered, had fired. 
 
 The alarmed Indians at once fled up-stream. We 
 killed a number, but many escaped up that brushy, 
 bowlder-strewn canyon. In the course of the run- 
 ning fight, I noticed several Indians springing down 
 a steep bank into the creek. I watched for them to 
 climb up the farther bank, but none appeared. Other 
 searchers up and down the stream failed to discover 
 them, so I decided that the best way to find what had 
 become of them would be to follow them. I accord- 
 ingly leaped down the bank into the stream. The 
 moment I struck the water a gun snapped close be- 
 hind me, and, glancing back, I beheld a group of the 
 Indians huddled together in water nearly waist deep 
 within a cavern that led back under the bank. A 
 young man called "Billy" was in their midst, and it 
 was he who had snapped his gun at me. The water 
 had probably dampened his powder. 
 
 I at once called to the men on the bank above that 
 I had found the runayays, and, throwing my gun on 
 
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40 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 this Billy, ordered him to march out and surrender. 
 He did so, and all the others, about a dozen in num- 
 ber, followed. They were mostly squaws and chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Several of our party knew this Billy to be a dan- 
 gerous and troublesome customer. I kept hold of his 
 wrist after I got up the bank, not intending that he 
 should try any of his slippery tricks upon me. I 
 asked him if he knew who had shot Lindsay, and he 
 gruffly replied: 
 
 "I shoot him." 
 
 After the ball was over I led BUly up to Brecken- 
 ridge and said that he had confessed to shooting 
 Lindsay. The captain was a peculiar man. He was 
 usually very deliberate in his movements, but was 
 possessed of great strength. He put the question to 
 the Indian himself, as calmly as a teacher might ask 
 a pupil his name: 
 
 "Do you know who shot Lindsay?" 
 
 "I shoot him." 
 
 And the captain replied, very calmly, "Then I 
 will shoot you," and he proceeded to pull his re- 
 volver from its scabbard as leisurely as though he 
 were about to indulge in target practice. As he was 
 raising the weapon, and while its muzzle was still 
 pointing downward, it was discharged. Immediately 
 I let go my hold of the Indian's wrist and slapped 
 my hand to my side. The bullet had struck a stone, 
 glanced upward, bored through the two thicknesses 
 of my heavy belt, and, flattened like a coin, lay burn- 
 ing under my skin. The way I flung off that belt 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 41 
 
 and tore at that hot lead was certainly not slow, and 
 afforded some of the boys much merriment. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Indian, freed from my grip, had 
 grappled with Breckenridge and the two were in the 
 midst of a desperate struggle. Thinking the captain 
 hard pressed, some of the boys were for rushing to 
 his assistance, but I waved them back and told them 
 that any man who was so many kinds of a fool as to 
 let off his gun accidentally deserved no better treat- 
 ment than to be killed by a thieving Mill Creek. 
 However, Breckenridge soon overpowered his foe 
 and kiUed him. 
 
 After this young Indian was finished, we collected 
 our prisoners and started down the canyon, but soon 
 found that there was another member of the tribe 
 who was bent on making us trouble. This was an 
 Indian who was called "The Doctor." He was 
 really a chief. His squaw was in our possession and 
 the chief certainly put up a game fight against odds. 
 
 We had gone but a short distance when he raised 
 up from behind a rock a short distance ahead and 
 fired, but his bullet went wild. We gave chase, but 
 he disappeared, only to repeat his ambush act Bcveral 
 times, always, for some reason, failing to get his 
 man. 
 
 Finally we came to a halt in a plum thicket not 
 far above the present site of the Polk barn. Most of 
 the boys were helping themselves to plums, the rest 
 of us guarding the prisoners. Suddenly the old chief 
 arose in the very center of that plum thicket and 
 tried another flying shot. He sank down again im- 
 
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42 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 mediately, and, in the confusion of the moment, es- 
 caped from the thicket, slipped down to the creek, 
 and crossed. Then from the opposite side of the 
 stream he continued to shoot at us. "We had a pretty- 
 good chance at him now and soon sent him to shelter 
 in a pile of rocks. It would be a difficult matter for 
 him to get to another shelter from where he was, so 
 we kept him in play while Hi Good slipped across 
 the creek and made a detour to get above him. Soon 
 Good's rifle cracked and in a moment the Indian's 
 body came rolling down the steep hillside. His 
 squaw gave one glance at the lifeless form, then 
 withdrew her gaze with no sign whatever of excite- 
 ment or grief. Some of the other squaws, however, 
 sent up a dismal wail, which was probably the death- 
 song of their tribe. 
 
 Many stories have been circulated regarding a 
 bear-skin full of watches and coin which this old 
 "Doctor" is believed to have left within the cave 
 under the creek bank where the Indians had taken 
 shelter. There may have been some small founda- 
 tion in fact for these reports, but I have never be- 
 lieved that there was wealth enough hidden in that 
 cave to pay a man for the hardships of a trip into 
 the canyon to get it. 
 
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CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RETURNING to the valley, we again made camp 
 on Rock Creek. It was decided that the pris- 
 oners should be taken to the Tumalacca Res- 
 ervation, which lay on the western side of the Sacra- 
 mento Valley, in the southern part of what is now 
 Tehama county. Hi Good and I made the journey, 
 having hired a team and wagon for the purpose. 
 
 Upon our return, our party broke up, the two 
 months for which we had enlisted having expired 
 some time before. Those of us who lived in the Deer 
 Creek country started afoot across the plans toward 
 our homes. We had gone but a couple of miles when 
 we spied an infantry company marching toward the 
 hills. The two parties came together at a point on 
 the plains about one and one-half miles east of my 
 present residence. 
 
 We found the soldiers to be under the command 
 of Kibbey. He had learned of our campaign against 
 the Indians, and had come up in person to wind up 
 the affair. He listened attentively to a verbal report 
 of our experiences, and then took doAvn the names 
 of the six of us who had been so long upon the In- 
 dian's trail. He said that we would be enrolled in 
 the regular service and should share in all govern- 
 ment awards for the duty done. However, that is 
 
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44 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 the last I have ever heard of the matter. Four of 
 our party were prevailed upon to go with the sol- 
 diers as guides, but Breckenridge and Hi Good and 
 I went on home. 
 
 The history of Kibbey 's campaign can be quickly 
 summed up. He roamed through the mountains for 
 several weeks, going as far east as the Big Meadows, 
 where he seized a number of perfectly harmless In- 
 dians as prisoners. He returned by way of Butte 
 Creek, where he got more prisoners, and, proceeding 
 to Chico, "captured" the Bidwell Indians and trans- 
 ported the entire lot to the Reservation. He did not 
 get a single Mill Creek, or any other Indian who had 
 ever caused the whites any trouble. 
 
 General Bidwell promptly went to Sacramento 
 and gave bonds for the good behavior of his Indians, 
 whereupon the Government authorities released 
 them, and they returned to Chico. 
 
 The other Indians jumped the Reservation, singly 
 or in small squads, and drifted back to their former 
 haunts. Some perhaps became contented with the 
 life there and remained. However, taken as a move- 
 ment to rid the foothills of the bad Indians, Kibbey 's 
 campaign was an absolute failure. In one way, it 
 resulted in making matters worse in our part of the 
 country, for the more dangerous of the Indians, on 
 returning from the Reservation, were apt to bring 
 others of like character with them, and, in this way, 
 undoubtedly, a number of tough redskins were added 
 to the bands in the hills. 
 
 During the winter of '59 and '60 the raids of the 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 45 
 
 Indians followed one another with startling swift- 
 ness and regularity. Scarcely a week passed that 
 some rancher or stockman did not suffer the loss of 
 cattle, horses or mules, and every precaution taken 
 to guard against the slippery red-men proved futile. 
 Finally, they grew so bold as to pay a visit to Hi 
 Good's rock corral on Deer Creek and to drive off 
 some work cattle that belonged to Good and me. 
 
 At this time, a young man named Bowman, but 
 whom we always called "Bully," was living with 
 Hi. "Bully" had had no experience in fighting In- 
 dians, but he seemed a bold young fellow and we had 
 confidence in him. 
 
 The three of us at once set out after the cattle 
 thieves. We had no difficulty in following their 
 trail, the Indians having become arrogant through 
 their recent successes. "We trailed them up Dry 
 Creek and located their temporary camp near the 
 head of that stream, some distance below the pine 
 timber. 
 
 When discovered, the Indians were engaged in 
 butchering a part of the stolen cattle. We were on 
 the opposite side of the ravine from them, and, hav- 
 ing a good view of their position, opened fire upon 
 them. They seized their rifles and returned our fire. 
 We noticed immediately that they had our range 
 perfectly, and were dropping their bullets very close 
 to us. In fact, it was but a few moments until I 
 heard Good cursing savagely. 
 
 "What's the matter?" I called. 
 
 "They've plugged me!" he replied, then, be- 
 
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46 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 tween a groan and an oath, added: "I believe my 
 leg's busted." 
 
 I made my way to his side and found that he had 
 been shot through the thigh. The wound was very 
 paiaful and left him for a time almost helpless. 
 
 A shout of tritunph from the Indians told us^that 
 they were aware of their success. The bullets were 
 falling thicker and closer each moment, and I felt 
 certain that we would soon all be picked off unless 
 we could make a speedy change in the course of the 
 battle. 
 
 I told Hi to drop down behiad a big bowlder, 
 while "Bully" and I should try to force the Indians 
 out of their present position. Good did as I re- 
 quested, and "Bully" and I made a sudden charge 
 forward. We dashed down the slope, thus placing 
 ourselves on the hillside closer to and below the In- 
 dians, and then began our advance toward them by 
 leaping from one shelter to another. Immediately, 
 as I expected, their bullets began to fly high. For a 
 time it was give and take at a lively rate, and I no- 
 ticed that "Bully" was behaving like a veteran. 
 Since our every rush was toward the front, however, 
 the Indians soon began to give way, and then we 
 hustled them the harder. 
 
 As they passed up the hill in retreat, we began 
 to hear Hi's rifle cracking from across the ravine. 
 Soon he set up a shout. We thought that he might 
 be hard pressed, so hurried to him, but found that he 
 only wanted us to assist him to his feet. He was not 
 
 suffering so badly now, but was unable to walk. We 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 47 
 
 did not carry him, but placed him between us and 
 then had him thrown his arms over our shoulders. 
 In this manner we made our way over the twenty 
 rough miles of the foothills to the valley. Not only 
 did we support our wounded comrade, but we drove 
 before us four of the oxen that we recovered. 
 
 Good's hurt was only a flesh wound, and we were 
 in no particular hurry to reach our homes, as we 
 did not think it necessary to procure the services of 
 a doctor. In a few weeks Good was fully recovered. 
 
 Many of the Mill Creeks at this time were good 
 shots. I have frequently found where they have 
 indulged in target practice, and, considering the dis- 
 tances and size of the targets, am convinced that 
 they could shoot as accurately as the average white 
 man. But they possessed two weaknesses that are 
 common to many whites, — once get them rattled, and 
 the danger of their hitting you became lessened by 
 many degrees; and they could not shoot accurately 
 down hill. It was for the first of these reasons, large- 
 ly, that we always planned to give them a surprise. 
 They invariably outnumbered us and it became 
 necessary to even up matters as much as possible by 
 rattling them in the start. 
 
 During these times Hi and I, sometimes with 
 "Bully" and sometimes by ourselves, made many 
 scouting trips into the hills and managed to reduce 
 the number of bad Indians on almost every trip. 
 Still, their numbers remained undiminished as far as 
 we could judge by the damage done, and we became 
 
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4S Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 bonvinced that they were being constantly re-in- 
 forced. 
 
 I often told Hi that it was a mistake to leave the 
 squaws in the hills, since it was but natural for the 
 bucks to find them, and as fast as the latter were put 
 out of the way, others from the Reservation, or from 
 more distant parts of the mountains, would take 
 their places. 
 
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CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of the winter (1859), Hi 
 Good, Carter and I indulged in a sort of wild- 
 goose chase which netted us next to nothing 
 in the way of success, but which brought me nearer 
 death than many close-range gun-fights have since 
 done. Hi had become convinced that we could un- 
 earth a winter camp of the Indians by a careful 
 search up Deer Creek Canyon. 
 
 At first I opposed his plans, but at last consented 
 to accompany him and Carter. We set out afoot, 
 each carrying his rifle, six-shooter and rations, be- 
 sides a generous roll of blankets, for the mid-winter 
 season, even in California, does not permit of a bed 
 of dried leaves. I was not yet twenty years of age, 
 and so, of course, was buoyed up by the elasticity of 
 youth. My companions were only a few years older. 
 If I am not mistaken, I was the youngest member of 
 our party in all our principal campaigns against the 
 Indians. 
 
 We moved up Deer Creek under threatening 
 skies. For two days we pushed deeper into the can- 
 yon, reaching a point rather higher than the Jackson 
 Mine, but found no fresh signs of Indians. The third 
 day out we swung over by Bluff Camp and then, as 
 the inevitable Christmas storm shrouded the gloomy 
 
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50 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 forests and dreary foothills, we tuerned our faces 
 toward the valley. 
 
 A bad day we had of it, especially after leaving 
 the shelter of the pines. Rain soaked our clothing, 
 and then came a fine drizzle, half snow, half rain, to 
 chill us to the marrow. A few miles below the tim- 
 ber belt, with the night rapidly drawing on, we 
 halted beside a gnarled digger pine and built a fire. 
 And beside that fire we spent the night, — not sleep- 
 ing, mind you, nor even lying down, but revolving 
 slowly so that the soaking and roasting processes, 
 going on at the same time on different surfaces of 
 our bodies, might be equally distributed. 
 
 Our search so far having proved fruitless, we had 
 ample time during the night to discuss plans for the 
 future. Good argued that the Indians must have 
 moved over into Mill Creek, but along about this 
 time my memory began to inform me very persist- 
 ently that I had promised to accompany two young 
 ladies on the following night to a dance at Oak 
 Grove, that being the name then applied to the Phil- 
 lips place on Pine Creek. 
 
 Hi finally announced that at break of day we 
 would start for Mill Creek. I told him that he could 
 count me out, as I was going to the dance. He 
 laughed at me, and told me that I would never get 
 there. That made me the more determined that 1 
 would, so at daybreak we split, Good and Carter 
 making toward the big canyon to the north, while I 
 started straight for the valley. 
 
 It was still raining in torrents. I passed down 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 51 
 
 the ridge that divides the two principal branches of 
 Dry Creek, keeping a little over the backbone so as 
 to be sheltered from the wind. I was striding along, 
 thinking very little of Indians and very much of 
 more agreeable objects, when suddenly I shot out 
 into open view of a large party of the redskins, 
 snuggled under a drooping cave not sixty yards 
 away. 
 
 They saw me as soon as I them. There was a 
 general scramble among them for their weapons, 
 but while they scrambled I slid around the point and 
 beat a swift retreat up the next ravine. I saw that 
 I had no business at close range tackling that Christ- 
 mas party. I did not fire a short, nor did the In- 
 dians. Later, when I had gained a loftier position 
 on the next ridge to the south, I paused long enough 
 to spy them out once more in the cave, but there 
 was no evidence to show that they were attempting 
 a pursuit. 
 
 I kept on my course down the slope of the hills 
 and reached the footlog opposite Good's cabin about 
 the middle of the afternoon. This log was one that 
 had been felled as a bridge and then flattened along 
 the upper surface so as to afford safer footing. I 
 had crossed it many times and felt no hesitation in 
 stepping upon it now, although the creek was flow- 
 ing, a turbulent flood, beneath it. 
 
 I had reached the middle of the passage and was 
 directly over the wickedest part of the current, when 
 that treacherous log snapped beneath me and in a 
 second I was being tumbled down a crazy reach of 
 
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52 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 the stream like a chip,— and not floating, either, for 
 I was imder as much as I was above the surface and 
 felt, at times, as though my head were scraping the 
 bottom. I tried to swim, but I might as well have 
 tried to walk on the surface. In fact, in a very short 
 time it dawned upon me that I was drowning. I made 
 a frantic effort to seize something for support, and 
 then, without a touch of real pain, I lost conscious- 
 ness. 
 
 An old man named Dean was at this time living 
 with Good. He had been seated at the cabin gazing 
 out toward the rapidly rising water in the creek. 
 In the course of their journeys up or down the banks 
 his eyes had detected the footbridge, staunch and 
 safe. When next his sight fell upon the same spot, 
 the bridge was gone. This interested him. After 
 musing upon the matter for a time, it slowly dawned 
 upon him that someone might have gone down with 
 the log. He promptly ran to the bank, followed it 
 down-stream for two hundred and fifty yards, and 
 there, in an eddy, spied my body lying next the 
 bank. 
 
 He rushed to where I lay, nearly submerged and 
 apparently dead, seized me by the feet and dragged 
 me up the bank. My blankets and six-shooter were 
 still strapped to me, while I grasped my rifle in one 
 hand and a clump of willow bushes in the other. It 
 was perhaps a lucky chance that he drew me out of 
 the water and up the bank feet first, for that caused 
 the water to run from my stomach and lungs and 
 doubtless saved my life. 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 53 
 
 I soon revived, but felt far from gay. By means 
 of strong draughts of vsrhiskey and of vigorous rub- 
 bing I was soon put upon my feet, when I walked 
 home. I accompanied my girl friends to the dance 
 that night, but I did not dance. 
 
 It was at this gathering that I first met Mr. Ira 
 Wetherby, who has since become so well and so 
 favorably known to me. 
 
 Good and Carter did not get home until the fol- 
 lowing day, having failed to locate any Indians in 
 the canyon of Mill Creek. 
 
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CHAPTER X. 
 
 " ■:'-:l 
 
 IN June of 1862, the whites of the upper valley- 
 were roused as they had never been before by the 
 atrocities of the Mill Creeks. A skulking band 
 swept through the foothills, killing stock, burning 
 cabins, and injuring the whites in every way pos- 
 sible, imtil they reached the Keefer ridge. There 
 they lay in wait for a teamster, who was hauling for 
 Keefer, and shot him to death beside his team. 
 
 Thirsting for more blood, they dropped down 
 into Rock Creek Canyon and slipped toward the 
 valley where a number of settlers lived. Unfortu- 
 nately, three of the Hiekok children were gathering 
 blackberries along the creek side, some distance 
 above their home, which was on the place now known 
 as the Bureh ranch. The oldest of the three was a 
 graceful girl of sixteen, the second a girl of fourteen, 
 and the third a boy some years younger. 
 
 The two girls were shot to death with arrows, and 
 their bodies left in the bushes beside the stream, 
 while the little boy was dragged away into the hills. 
 
 The Indians knew that these murders could not 
 go long unnoticed, as there was considerable travel 
 up and down the Keefer road. In fact, the bodies 
 of the murdered girls were found late in the after- 
 noon of the day on which they were killed, and then 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 55 
 
 indeed were the whites aroused to the danger that so 
 constantly hovered over their homes. 
 
 Many parties were raised and hurried into the 
 hills. In fact, the feeling against the Indians was so 
 bitter that it was proposed to make a general clean- 
 up, even of the friendly Indians, of which there were 
 camps at Bid well's, at Keefer's, and at the Phillips 
 place on Pine Creek; but Mr. Hickok, the bereaved 
 father, forbade this being done on his behalf, and, of 
 course, at such a time, his wishes were respected. 
 
 I was asked to take up the chase, but there was 
 sickness in my family at the time and I could not 
 leave home. However, Hi Good and "Bully" re- 
 sponded to the call, and Sandy Young, boss vaquero 
 on the Bidwell Rancho, was of Hi's party. This, I 
 think, was the first occasion on which these two men 
 worked together on an Indian trail. 
 
 They traced the Indians northward, past Deer 
 Creek, Dry Creek, and Mill Creek, and finally over- 
 hauled them, I think, in the head of Antelope Creek 
 east of Red Bluff. They found the mangled remains 
 of the captured white boy amid signs which indi- 
 cated that he had been made to move around in a 
 circle, probably being tied, while he was stoned to 
 death by the children of the savages. 
 
 The whites made a pretty good clean-up on this 
 occasion. A day or two later I was sitting on my 
 porch when Hi and Sandy rode past on their way 
 home. Hi showed me eight fresh scalps that he had 
 tied to his saddle. 
 
 And still the Mill Creeks remained in sufficient 
 
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56 Fighting the Blill Creeks. 
 
 numbers to leave their terrible mark upon the white 
 man's home. Somewhat later, as I recall it, than 
 the killing of the Hickok children, the Indians floated 
 through the hills still farther south, and this time the 
 blow fell upon the Lewis family, who lived in the 
 Clear Creek country, about midway between Chico 
 and Oroville. 
 
 As on the former occasion, the blood-thirsty 
 wretches slipped down to the very edge of the val- 
 ley, and made their attack by stealth upon those 
 who were helpless to defend themselves. The story 
 as it came to me was like this : The three Lewis chil- 
 dren, a girl and two boys, were on their road home 
 from school. They had reached a brook and the 
 oldest boy was stooping over to drink, when the 
 hidden Indians shot him through the head, killing 
 him instantly. The girl and younger boy, the latter 
 a little fellow just starting to school, were seized 
 and hustled into the hills. The little boy soon be- 
 came leg-weary and his brains were dashed out 
 against a rock. The girl was hurried forward until 
 night came on. 
 
 The party was then well up on a hillside above 
 a stream. For some reason, a portion of the Indians 
 pushed forward and left the captive in charge of 
 one of their number as guard. This guard seemed 
 especially anxious to be permitted to follow his fel- 
 lows. He placed the girl upon a large rock, motioned 
 for her to remain there, and then set out a short 
 distance in the direction taken by the other Indians. 
 
 The moment his back was turned, the plucky 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 57 
 
 little girl slid down from the rock, but her keeper 
 was stealthily watching her. He ran back to her, 
 seized her and shook her, and, drawing his knife, 
 made motions as though about to cut her throat. 
 She cowered and slunk away as if in abject fear, and, 
 thinking that he had her completely intimidated, he 
 placed her once more upon the rock and moved 
 away. 
 
 However, the girl's wit had not deserted her. 
 The Indian had no sooner moved away than she 
 slipped down from the rock and darted into a little 
 ravine that creased the hillside. The darkness 
 favored her. She made her way to the bottom of the 
 canyon, discovered which way the water was flowing, 
 and, in spite of the anxious search of the whole party 
 of Indians, escaped and made her way to the valley. 
 
 I think that it was on this same raid that the In- 
 dians robbed the home of one "Portugee Al," who 
 lived in the head of Little Chico Creek, taking, 
 among other articles, his wife's hat. They also, on 
 their return toward Mill Creek, robbed a man named 
 Bolivar, who lived near the present site of the 
 Richardson Springs. 
 
 A party was promptly mustered, of which I was 
 a member. Sim and Jake Moak of Chico were also 
 of the party. We struck through the hills and picked 
 up the Indians' trail south of Deer Creek. It led 
 down into the deep canyon, crossed Deer Creek just 
 above the mouth of Sulphur Creek, and headed di- 
 rectly up toward the towering cliff that walls the 
 gorge on the north. 
 
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58 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 Just east of the principal cliflf is a steep, wedge- 
 like defile, up which it is possible for one to climb 
 to the top. Up this narrow pass we crept single file. 
 Why the Indians did not turn on us and annihilate 
 our entire party has always been a mystery to me, 
 for we found them on the flat just beyond the crest. 
 
 They spied us before we were fairly upon them, 
 and away they went, dodging and ducking through 
 the thickets like frightened deer. I brought down 
 one with a short from my double-barrel, but he was 
 up and streaking it through the brush before I could 
 lay hands upon him. Several of us followed him for 
 a half-mile or more down the slope toward Little Dry 
 Creek before we finished him. 
 
 We had but one horse with us on this trip, and 
 this animal we left at Sulphur Creek.' In the course 
 of the attack and chase, I lost my hat, but among 
 the plunder recaptured from the Indians was found 
 the gaily-beribboned headgear which had been stolen 
 from "Portugee Al's" wife. On the homeward trip, 
 the boys insisted that I should wear the recovered 
 hat, in place of the one I had lost, and that I should 
 ride the horse. I did so, but it can be imagined the 
 figure I presented, wearing that absurd hat and with 
 an Indian scalp tied to my saddle. 
 
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CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN August of this year the Indians paid me a 
 friendly call. It was a Sunday morning. Upon 
 arising and stepping out of doors, my attention 
 was at once drawn to a column of smoke curling up 
 from my barn. My neighbors, the Carters, were 
 gone at this time, and the three boys of the family, 
 fearful of a night attack at the hands of the Mill 
 Creeks, had come to my place to sleep. 
 
 I immediately shouted to them that the barn was 
 afire and started on a run for the building. One 
 glance inside convinced me that the fire had but 
 recently been started and could be easily stopped. 
 Some loose hay had been flung down in the shed 
 where my horses had been stabled, and fired, but the 
 blaze had not yet reached the mow or taken hold of 
 the building. The glance that told me this informed 
 me likewise that my two horses, that had been left 
 stabled the evening before, were gone. 
 
 The bank of the creek was but a couple of rods 
 away. I seized a bucket and sprang toward it. As 
 I dipped up a bucket of water, I perceived Indian 
 tracks leading into the stream. Rocks near the bank 
 were still wet from the wash caused by the hurry- 
 ing men or beasts. In fact, glancing farther,' I saw 
 one of the horses returning toward the stream on the 
 north side. 
 
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60 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 I returned with the bucket of water and soon 
 had the fire extinguished. By this time the boys 
 were out, so while I secured my rifle and six-shooter, 
 I had one of them run and get up a saddle horse that 
 was loose in the pasture. But on going to the barn 
 to saddle up, I found myself balked, as the two sad- 
 dles that I had left hanging in the barn were both 
 gone. 
 
 I knew that it would be useless to try to ride 
 the animal bareback, as I had tried it several times 
 before, always to meet with defeat; and yet I was 
 not in a humor to neglect the polite attention paid 
 me by the Indians. There was nothing to be done 
 but to take it afoot, and so I started. 
 
 Instead of crossing the creek and attempting to 
 overhaul the renegades by means of a stern chase, 
 I ran at top speed up the stream, along the south 
 bank. I reached Hi Good's cabin, after a run of a 
 mile and a half, and hailed him, telling him in as few 
 words as possible what had occurred. 
 
 Good snatched up his weapons and joined me. I 
 had nm many a half-mile race with Hi, and must 
 admit that I usually took second money, but on this 
 day I was to see him reach the limit of his powers of 
 endurance. 
 
 We crossed the creek at the mouth of the canyon, 
 and, still running, pressed up the long slope directly 
 toward the north. "We knew that the Indians should 
 be down nearer the plains on our left. 
 
 On reaching the crest that overlooked a sharp- 
 sided ravine called Acorn Hollow, we very soon spied 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 61 
 
 the Indians a half-mile down the hollow, and per- 
 haps a quarter of a mile north of us. They had evi- 
 dently already discovered us, for they remained but 
 a moment beside the stolen horse, which we found 
 later they were in the act of repacking, and then 
 they broke into a hasty retreat, leaving the animal 
 behind. 
 
 They did not attempt to swing up into the hills, 
 but instead pushed out across the high, open plain 
 that extends northward toward Dry Creek. There 
 were seven of them, Billy Sill being of the number. 
 He was carrying a pair of my buckskin leggings 
 across his arm. 
 
 Taking in the situation at a glance. Good re- 
 marked that he believed he could run down the hol- 
 low, follow the Indians out onto the open plain and 
 overhaul them before they reached the shelter of 
 Dry Creek, but I told him that I was going to hold 
 my present position and try to head them from 
 finally getting into Mill Creek. 
 
 Away then we went on our respective courses. I 
 could see the Indians much of the time and could see 
 Good many hundred yards behind them. His turning 
 down the hollow added a half mile or more to his 
 course, and the lead this gave the Indians was too 
 much for him to overcome. 
 
 "When the Indians scuttled into the brushy bottom 
 of Dry Creek, he was still far out on the open plain. 
 After leaving this depression, the redskins swerved 
 to the right and sped up the long slope toward the 
 breaks of Mill Creek. The many miles of the chase 
 
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62 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 had left me by this time nearly blown. I saw that 
 I was not going to be able to beat the Indians to the 
 protecting belt of timber that lay on the crest of the 
 slope. However, the courses we were now pursuing 
 were bringing us gradually nearer together. I could 
 see a dusky form now and then gliding upward 
 through the trees and brush that sprinkled the hill- 
 side. 
 
 Putting forth a mighty effort, I increased my 
 pace a trifle, and keeping this up for an eighth of a 
 mile or so reached a spot from which I believed the 
 scudding Indians must come into view. Almost im- 
 mediately I saw the leader swing across the very 
 space I had picked upon. He was considerably over 
 two hundred yards away, but I knew that I was not 
 going to get closer, so I threw up my rifle and fired 
 at him. I missed, and he swiftly whirled about and 
 returned the compliment. This gave me time for 
 my second barrel, and he fell at the crack of my gun. 
 The balance of the party glided like lightning be- 
 hind covers and began pouring in a hot fire toward 
 my place of concealment. Most of the their bullets 
 flew high, as was invariably the case when the red- 
 skins were aiming downward. In fact, it was only 
 now and then that a shot struck close to me. On the 
 other hand. Good, who was far below me on the hill- 
 side, had a perfect shower of bullets dropping about 
 him during the entire engagement. He was so com- 
 pletely exhausted by the long run across the plains 
 that he did not get into the fight at all. 
 
 I kept pounding away as long as the Indians re- 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 63 
 
 turned my fire, but so closely did they cling to their 
 Bover that I was not able to score a second time. 
 After a time they worked back toward the top of the 
 ridge, ^ and, carrying off their wounded comrade, 
 made good their escape into that everlasting haven 
 of refuge,— the wilds of Mill Creek's Canyon. 
 
 Then I returned to Hi and we proceeded to help 
 each other home. The tramp back across the plains 
 was one of the hardest jobs I have ever undertaken. 
 Words cannot express the relief we both felt when 
 we at length reached the spot where the abandoned 
 horse was awaiting us. One of my saddles had been 
 cut to pieces to provide straps and strings for tying 
 the stolen plunder onto the horse. This plunder con- 
 sisted principally of corn and other vegetables which 
 the Indians had collected from the gardens of Deer 
 Creek. 
 
 We reached Hi's cabin late in the afternoon and 
 were quite ready for our Sunday breakfasts. At the 
 Carter place we found quite a party of neighbors 
 collected. They had heard the firing and were just 
 on the point of starting to our assistance. 
 
 A few weeks later a squaw coming from the hills 
 reported that the wounded Indian had succumbed 
 to his injuries, after a few days. 
 
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CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ONE day in June, 1863, Solomon Gore, who 
 lived on Rock Creek, hurried to my house 
 and reported that the Mill Creeks had stolen 
 two horses from him. He asked me if I could get 
 the animals back. I replied that I thought I could if 
 I had someone to accompany me to the hills. Accord- 
 ingly, Tom Gore and Jack Howser agreed to go with 
 me. 
 
 We struck off northeasterly through the hills and 
 were not long in finding the Indians' trail. I had 
 no difficulty in following it, and we pushed for- 
 ward rapidly. Shortly before night we met one of 
 the stolen horses. It was a young animal, and had 
 evidently escaped from the Indians in some way and 
 was returning to its master. 
 
 We had started so late in the day that night 
 overtook us before we had covered many miles. We 
 made our beds by simply selecting convenient places 
 to stretch our frames among the bowlders, where I, 
 for one, slept tranquilly until morning. 
 
 With the break of day we were up and once more 
 on the trail. We passed through the Singer Creek 
 country and in a couple of hours came to the borders 
 of the Deer Creek Flats. 
 
 As we approached the level land of the Flats, 
 
 we spied five bears busily digging on an open space 
 
 ahead. I knew that the Indians were many miles 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 65 
 
 ahead of us, so I suggested to the boys that we have 
 some fun with the bears. 
 
 "You may have all the fun you like," said Tom 
 Gore, "but please wait until I get up a tree before 
 you begin." 
 
 Jack Howser was of the same way of thinking. 
 I laughed at them and told them to shin up their 
 trees, but to leave a convenient one for me in case 
 I should need it. They were not long in getting up 
 into a couple of oaks, and then I moved cautiously 
 out toward a large tree which enabled me, unseen, 
 to approach withiu one hundred and fifty yards of 
 the feeding bears. This tree was too large to be 
 easily climbed, which was the reason I had selected 
 a smaller one farther back. 
 
 The bears were totally unaware of our presence. 
 I waited until the largest one turned full side toward 
 me, when I raised my rifle and let her have it. She 
 slashed at her ribs with her teeth and sent up a fierce 
 bellow, but after a moment seemed to recover in a 
 measure. At the very least, I had roused her curios- 
 ity, for she reared up and sat upon her haunches, 
 looking extremely vicious. She was directly facing 
 me, so I threw a second ball into her. Then she 
 caught sight of me and charged. I ran for my tree 
 and swung myself up into its branches. "When I 
 thought that I was out of the bear's reach, I looked 
 back and was just in time to see her turn end for end 
 as she ran. She did not rise and I afterward found 
 that my second bullet had bitten off the end of her 
 
 heart. 
 
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66 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 However, the other bears were yet to be reckoned 
 with. They seemed to consist of two two-year-olds 
 and two yearlings, probably all offspring of the old 
 one. I reloaded my rifle, then dropped to the ground, 
 Tom and Jack yelling at me as though they thought 
 I was as good as eaten alive. One of the bears came 
 a short distance toward me, and I sank on one knee, 
 waited until it was within forty feet, then dropped 
 it dpad at one shot. The others were at a loss what 
 to do. While they continued to sniff at the old one 
 and to toddle about in perplexity, I killed two more 
 of them and crippled the fifth one, which got away. 
 
 We secured the gall-bladders from the four dead 
 animals, and then took up once more the trail of the 
 Indians. I had little hopes of being able to overtake 
 them short of Mill Creek Canyon, but, of course, I 
 had to follow the trail in order to make sure. 
 
 We dropped down into Deer Creek and crossed 
 this stream, as we had on several previous occasions, 
 near the mouth of Sulphur Creek. Again the trail 
 led us up that frightful ascent toward the wedge- 
 like defile in the upper cliff, and, incredible as it 
 may see, we found that the Indians had taken the 
 stolen horse up that way. Tom and Jack declared 
 that they could see scars upon the small trees where 
 the animal had hung on by his teeth. 
 
 We crossed through the broad canyons of Little 
 and Big Dry Creeks, and so at length reached the 
 breaks of Mill Creek. From here we could see for 
 miles ovjer the wild regions of that great canyon, 
 and I told the boys that we would take a good look 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 67 
 
 before going farther, as there were ten chances to 
 one that the Indians were snuggled away somewhere 
 under our feet. 
 
 After a careful observation, I at length discov- 
 ered some human figures moving about a hillside, 
 ■ fully two miles below us. We scrutinized them 
 closely and came to the conclusion that it was a 
 number of squaws, gathering grass-seed. Their 
 camp was nowhere in sight, but I knew that we could 
 find the camp by watching the squaws. 
 
 Bidding the boys to avoid being seen, as they 
 would avoid a pestilence, I led them down the long 
 slope, keeping as deeply as possible within the shel- 
 ter of ravines and thickets. In this way we were 
 enabled to approach within three hundred yards of 
 the squaws. 
 
 "We were lying under a jutting pile of rocks, peer- 
 ing out at them and picking out our next line of ad- 
 vance, when suddenly a signal shout was heard, com- 
 ing from some point above us. I knew at once that 
 we were discovered by a lookout. The squaws, how- 
 ever, paid no heed, evidently not having heard the 
 cry; but in a moment it was repeated, and this time 
 they heard it. In a moment they were scurrying 
 down the hill. 
 
 ' ' Our only show is to follow them ! " I cried, and 
 springing up I bounded down the hill in pursuit. I 
 proved to be a swifter runner than my two comra,des 
 and soon left them behind. As I ran I heard one of 
 them shoot, but I kept on, for I wanted to find the 
 
 Indians' camp. 
 
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68 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 The fleeing squaws disappeared over a brow of 
 the ridge, but I kept on down the point which led 
 toward the creek, and all at once I came within full 
 sight of the camp. It lay about two hundred yards 
 below me and seemed to be in a state of confusion. 
 I saw Indians flying about, trying to pile articles 
 upon the single horse that stood in their midst. I 
 could see that there were many bucks present, so 
 waited a few moments for Tom and Jack to join me. 
 They failed to put in an appearance, however, and 
 I knew that I must act quickly or let the entire party 
 escape. I watched for a good chance and soon, 
 drawing down on a big fellow, added one more good 
 Indian to the list with the first shot. 
 
 The other warriors immediately sprang to their 
 guns and, locating me by the smoke from my rifle, 
 began sending bullets whining and whistling about 
 me. With the first volley they disappeared, drop- 
 ping behind the rocks and bushes, but they con- 
 tinued to find the way to my position. For some 
 time we exchanged shots. I was behind a tree which- 
 was not more than eight inches in diameter, though 
 there were moments when I warmly wished that it 
 were eight feet. However, having my double-barrel, 
 I was able to fool them. They perceived that I was 
 alone, and frequently, after I fired, some of them 
 would expose themselves for a moment in seeking to 
 secure better cover, and each time they made this 
 mistake I dropped one in his tracks with my second 
 barrel. 
 
 At length Jack and Tom came down to where I 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 69 
 
 lay, and a more helpless pair of Indian fighters I 
 never saw! One had the lock wrenched off his rifle, 
 while the other had his ramrod broken off in his gun- 
 barrel. Neither could fire a shot. At that time I had 
 my last bullet in my rifle, but luckily Tom's bullets 
 were the same calibre as mine. I quickly deprived 
 him of all he had, and just at that moment the Mill 
 Creeks turned loose a most vicious volley. The bul- 
 lets plowed and hissed among the rocks beside us, 
 and in a second the two of them were trying to hide 
 with me behind my little eight-inch tree. 
 
 I told them that our only show was to charge and 
 put the Indians on the run. They agreed to follow 
 my lead, so we sprang out and rushed down the hill. 
 The Indians broke and fled and we gained their camp 
 in safety. 
 
 "Now hustle," said I, "or they will slip back and 
 make it hot for us from that brush ! ' ' 
 
 We soon had the recovered horse loaded with 
 such articles as we could hastily pick up. There 
 was a pile of new quilts lying beneath a tree, prob- 
 ably having been snatched from some foothill cabin, 
 and as I picked one of them up a lank Indian boy 
 sprang up and stood watching us in blank surprise. 
 He had slept peacefully through the entire battle. 
 
 ' ' There 's your chance ! ' ' said I to Tom and Jack. 
 "If you want to kill an Indian on this trip, bag that 
 fellow." 
 
 But neither of them would raise a hand against 
 him, and we went away and left him staring stupidly 
 after us. 
 
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70 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 When we reached the top of the ridge, we sat 
 down for a breathing spell. 
 
 "Well, Bob," said Jack, "how many of those fel- 
 lows do you think you got ? I saw two. ' ' 
 
 "I counted three" said Tom. 
 
 I told them that I thought there were six or seven 
 scattered along the hillside. 
 
 We struck off down the slope of the foothills and 
 reached the valley without mishap. We went by 
 way of Hi Good 's cabin, and stopped there for lunch. 
 Hi was at home and listened with great interest to 
 an account of our experiences. He remarked, when 
 we had finished : 
 
 "You fellows can consider that you got off very 
 lucky. I came down through that country the other 
 day, and took a peep at that camp, and there were 
 at least thirty bucks there. I guess if the whole party 
 had been at home that you three would have been 
 left in the hills." 
 
 I told him that it looked to me like there were 
 just about thirty warriors there when I opened fire 
 upon them. 
 
 About two weeks later. Hi came one day to my 
 place. He said that a squaw had come to his place 
 from Mill Creek, a few days after we had paid our 
 visit to the Indians' camp, and had told him that 
 there were seven killed and two badly wounded in 
 that battle, which proved that my estimate had not 
 been far wrong. 
 
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CAPTAIN ANDERSON 
 
 From a Photograph Taken in 1866 
 
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CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE final conflict with the Mill Creeks occurred 
 in 1865. I was then living at my present 
 home, eight miles north of Chico. About the 
 middle of August, business took me to the old grist 
 mill that stood at the mouth of Butte Creek Canyon. 
 I made the trip on horseback. 
 
 As I was riding up Edgar Slough, I noticed, a 
 group of some half a dozen men break from the 
 woods at about the point where the Schwein slaugh- 
 ter-house now stajids. On nearer approach, I per- 
 ceived that they were all strangers. I also discov- 
 ered that they were all armed and seemed to be in a 
 state of great excitement. 
 
 "Have you seen a party of men anywhere on the 
 road between here and Chico?" asked one, eagerly. 
 
 "How many?" I asked. 
 
 "Six." 
 
 "No. What's up?" 
 
 "We 're after Bidwell 's Indians ! ' ' 
 
 Then they told me how the Indians had made a 
 raid into the Concow country, had killed a man and 
 two women, horribly mutilating the latter, had 
 slaughtered hogs and cattle out of pure cruelty, and 
 dad then melted away. 
 
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72 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 "Why do you think it the work of the Bidwell 
 Indians?" I asked. 
 
 ""We KNOW it is ! Their trail leads straight out 
 through the hills in this direction. We followed it 
 to the Johnson place, and it points for Chico. Listen 
 to that shooting, boys ! ' ' — for at that instant a shot 
 or two and some cries were heard from toward Chico 
 Creek. "Hurry up! let's don't miss it all!" and 
 they were about to rush away. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said I, "you are^ barking up the 
 wrong tree!" 
 
 They paused. 
 
 "What do you know about it?" asked one. 
 
 "Simply this : That trail you've been following is 
 a blind. Bidwell's Indians haven't been near Con- 
 cow, and Bidwell's Indians haven't killed anyone." 
 
 "Then what Indians did it?" 
 
 "The Mill Creeks." 
 
 They had all heard of the Mill Creeks, but some 
 were still in doubt. 
 
 "Who are you?" asked one. 
 
 I told him my name, and they seemed more will- 
 ing to listen to me. I assured them that the Bidwell 
 Indians were perfectly quiet and well-behaved, and 
 that the Mill Creeks had more than once attempted 
 to saddle some of their own crimes upon them. I 
 added that if they wished to find the real culprits 
 they had better strike for the canyon of Deer Creek 
 or of Mill Creek. 
 
 While we were talking, I saw a group of men 
 leave the woods a mile or so east of us. 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 73 
 
 "There is the rest of your outfit," I said, and on 
 approaching and joining them we found that this 
 was true. 
 
 With this new party was one Bill Matthews ; also 
 a young man named Frank Curtis, who was 
 a brother, I think, of Henry Curtis, who then con- 
 ducted a tannery on Rock Creek, and with whom I 
 was well acquainted. 
 
 I repeated what I had told the first-comers, and 
 told them that they would surely breed trouble for 
 themselves if they bothered Bidwell 's Indians ; and, 
 besides, would be wasting their time and allowing 
 the real culprits to escape. 
 
 A short consultation was held among their lead- 
 ers, and then I was asked if I would lead them into 
 the Mill Creek country. I replied that I had business 
 at the grist mill, but that I would ride there and 
 return as soon as possible, and would join them on 
 Rock Creek. I assured them that there was not one 
 chance in a hundred of our overtaking the Indians 
 short of Mill Creek, and that there would be many 
 miles of rough country to travel over before reach- 
 ing that point. 
 
 I finished my mission at the mill, and, hurrying 
 home, moved my family over to the Gore place on 
 Rock Creek. The Concow men were awaiting me 
 there, and we started next morning. Henry Curtis 
 had joined the party and was practically leader of 
 the Concow force. 
 
 I told Curtis that we would probably strike the 
 trail on Deer Creek Flats, so we headed for that 
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74 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 region. On Deer Creek we found Hi Good, who 
 promptly jioned us. We reached the Flats late in 
 the afternoon, and there, sure enough, we found a 
 fresh Indian trail leading toward the north. 
 
 We made camp beside the spring, on the Flats, 
 and while gathered about the camp-fire before re- 
 tiring it was suggested that we organize by electing 
 a captain. I was elected and Good was chosen sec- 
 ond in command. 
 
 Next morning we were up and away almost with 
 the break of day. In order to make sure that the 
 Indians had not dodged to right or left, I followed 
 the trail, keeping usually about two hundred yards 
 ahead of the main party, with Hi beside me as my 
 lookout. In this way we filed down through the 
 wild gorge of Deer Creek, across that stream, and 
 on across the less rugged slopes of the two Dry 
 Creeks, and so by the middle of the after- 
 noon reached the top of the ridge which overlooks 
 the broad canyon of Mill Creek. 
 
 Climbing to a point from which we had a good 
 outlook, Good and I made a close inspection of the 
 region below us. At length the glint as of some 
 bright object caught my eye far down in the very 
 bottom of the canyon. It was fully three miles dis- 
 tant. I believed it to be the sun flashing from a rifle- 
 barrel and pointed it out to Hi. Soon we saw a tiny 
 white object move down the side of a little rounded 
 knoll close to the creek, and both recognized it as 
 a human figure. 
 
 "That's their lookout," I said, "and I believe it's 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 75 
 
 Billy Sill. He had on a white shirt when he ran 
 away. They are camped beside those three little 
 knolls just the other side of the creek." 
 
 "Just this side, you mean," said Hi. 
 
 "No. The north side." 
 
 "We both remembered the three knobs, but could 
 not agree as to which side of the stream they occu- 
 pied, and the water could not be seen from where 
 we were to decide the matter. We argued for some 
 time and at length Hi said : 
 
 "Well; you're the doctor. What shall we do?''- 
 
 I replied that we would swing back around a high 
 point on the summit of the ridge, march down to the 
 bottom of the canyon, cross the creek a half mile or 
 more below the three knolls, and then make our ad- 
 vance by moving up-stream. 
 
 This plan I communicated to the main party. We 
 slipped into a hidden ravine and filed slowly and 
 cautiously downward toward the bottom of the can- 
 yon, exercising the utmost care to keep from falling 
 under the eye of the hawk-like lookouts that we 
 knew were stationed on lofty points here and there. 
 The ravine was very brushy and strewn with bowl- 
 ders, yet at times we had to crawl on our hands and 
 knees to remain hidden. 
 
 At last we accomplished the descent successfully, 
 and waded through the foaming waters of Mill 
 Creek to the north side. We were still a good, safe 
 distance below where I knew the camp must be, so 
 I ordered that the entire party advance slowly up- 
 
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76 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 stream. We moved up some distance from the creek 
 and kept under the coves that headed the glades. 
 
 A little before actual sunset,— the sun being gone 
 long since from the bottom of that deep canyon,— a 
 number of moving objects on the hillside below us 
 caught my eye. I gave the signal to lie low, and 
 the entire party sank down among the rocks. 
 
 Soon four squaws came filing along a dim trail, 
 wending their way up the creek. We were not dis- 
 covered, and the squaws passed on around a bend a 
 few hundred yards above us and disappeared. This 
 made Hi and I feel more certain than ever that the~ 
 Indians were camped about in the region of the 
 three knolls. 
 
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CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 1 MOVED the party a short distance farther up- 
 stream, then grouped them beneath the spread- 
 ing branches of an oak and ordered them to lie 
 down and to remain absolutely quiet, until I should 
 return. 
 
 Selecting Good as my companion, we made plans 
 to find out, if possible, the exact location of the 
 camp. We removed our boots, laid aside our rifles, 
 and, with only our revolvers as weapons, slipped 
 into the water and started to make our way up- 
 stream.' Our progress was extremely slow. The 
 night was very dark, and the stream was turbulent 
 and filled with bowlders. We tried to keep under 
 the bank as much as possible, for fear of brushing 
 into some sentinel above it, but at times found the 
 water too deep for us, when we were compelled to 
 crawl like snakes through the bordering fringe of 
 trees and brush. 
 
 Just below the three round-topped knolls the 
 stream broadened into a natural ford. The ImoUs 
 stood on the north side of the stream, and between 
 them and the ford lay a flat sand-bar. At length we 
 approached this broader stretch of water. The bank 
 broke off straight to the water. It was not over 
 three feet high and was clear of trees and brush. 
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78 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 Suddenly a dog broke forth into wild barking 
 close in front of us, and, springing toward the bank, 
 bayed furiously in our very faces. "We could feel his 
 hot breath and could have struck him with our six- 
 shooters had we wished. Instead of turning about 
 or making any attempt to beat a retreat, we crouched 
 still for a minute or more, while the dog made the 
 echoes of that deep canyon resound with his cries of 
 defiance! 
 
 Peering over the bank in the midst of this up- 
 roar, we plainly perceived several forms rise up to 
 sitting postures on the bar in front of us. We were 
 almost abreast of the camp. The Indians probably 
 thought that the dog was baying some wild beast, 
 for none of them arose to investigate, and Good and 
 I painstakingly made our way back down-stream, the 
 dog following us to within one hundred yards of 
 where the main party lay. 
 
 Just before we reached the point where we had 
 entered the stream, Good, in some way, loosened a 
 heavy stone from the bank, which rolled into the 
 water, struck his bare foot and crushed off a toe- 
 nail. I helped him bandage the injured member with 
 a poultice of tobacco, after which we joined the rest 
 of the party and made our plans for the attack upon 
 the Indians. 
 
 We decided to move forward just in time to get 
 the camp surrounded before the break of day. Hi, 
 with six men, was left to advance upon the camp in 
 the same manner that he and I had already adopted, 
 while I took the balance of the force for a detour 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 79 
 
 which would bring us against the Indians from the 
 up-stream side. 
 
 We had a difficult climb, for we were compelled 
 to swing some distance up the rough hillside in order 
 to avoid springing an alarm, but made it success- 
 fully. As day began to peep over the high walls of 
 the canyon, I found myself lying about thirty feet 
 above one of the three little knolls that had served 
 us so well as land-marks. I had left orders for Hi's 
 party to lie quiet and let us make the attack. This 
 would throw the Indians onto the bar next the open 
 ford, where they would be completely at the mercy 
 of both our forces. 
 
 It grew lighter and still no sound disturbed the 
 morning excepting the incessant roar of the nearby 
 stream. Henry Curtis was close to my right. Sud- 
 denly he chirped like a bird. I glanced toward him 
 and saw him pointing toward the top of the knoll. 
 Turning my eyes thither I was just in time to see the 
 half-breed, Billy Sill, lowering his rifle in a line with 
 my head. I rolled behind a tree, and the half-breed, 
 knowing that he was seen, sank out of sight behind 
 a rock. I had ample time, in the glimpse I caught of 
 him, to see that he still wore a white shirt. 
 
 Almost on the instant that he disappeared. Good's 
 rifle cracked, and the fight was on. We crowded for- 
 ward arid poured a hot fire into the Indians from up- 
 stream, while Good's men hammered them from be- 
 lo-n^. Into th^ stream they leaped, but few got out' 
 alive. Instead, diaay dead bodies floated down the 
 rapid current. 
 
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80 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 Billy Sill made a break to escape by leaping 
 straight up the mountain-side. Several shot at him, 
 but missed. I swung my rifle on him and cut him 
 down just as he was about to spring into a thicket. 
 As he rolled toward the creek he cursed me veno- 
 mously with his last breath. He was known to many 
 of us, having lived from childhood with Uncle Dan 
 Sill. He had been herding sheep for Sill a short time 
 before this, when one day he left the band and joined 
 the Mill Creeks. 
 
 This battle practically ended the scourge of the 
 Mill Creeks. I had often argued with Good regard- 
 ing the disposition of the Indians. He believed in 
 killing every man or well-grown boy, but in leaving 
 the women unmolested in their mountain retreats. 
 It was plain to me that we must also get rid of the 
 women. On this occasion the Concow people were 
 intensely wrought up over the horrible atrocities 
 practiced by the Indians on the white women whom 
 they killed, and I had told them that they were at 
 liberty to deal with the Indians as they saw fit. 
 
 While ransacking the camp after the battle was 
 over, a little child possessing six toes on each foot 
 was found. Hi Good at once took a notion to the 
 child and said that he wished to take it home with 
 him. Knowing that he had odd tastes about such 
 things, I consented, whereupon he declared that he 
 must take along a squaw to carry the child. I asked 
 Curtis what his pleasure was in the matter, and, after 
 consulting with some of his own party, he grudgingly 
 agreed. 
 
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Fighting the Mill Creeks. 81 
 
 The woman selected for the purpose was slightly 
 wotinded in the heel. She packed the youngster in 
 stolid silence up the long hill, and over its crest into 
 Twenty-Mile Hollow. Here, however, she became 
 sullen and refused to go a step farther. I gave her 
 over to the Concow people and they left her to swell 
 the number of the dead. 
 
 If I remember correctly, one of the women mur- 
 dered by the Indians at Goncow had recently come 
 over from England and had in her possession several 
 himdred dollars in English sovereigns. This money 
 was taken by the murderers, but we failed to find 
 any of it. 
 
 However, at this time Sandy Young was stopping 
 at Big Meadows, in charge of the BidwelL stock. The 
 marauding Mill Creeks, in the course of their raid, 
 had swung around by the Meadows, where they had 
 killed a number of the Indians of that region and 
 carried away a number of squaws. 
 
 The Big Meadows red-men were afraid of their 
 desperate enemies, and would not take the field 
 against them except under Young 's leadership. Con- 
 sequently, the latter got a force together and came 
 down through Deer Creek Meadows and Onion Creek 
 and"~so along the Lassen Trail to Bluff Camp, where 
 they swung into Mill Creek Canyon. 
 
 They reached. the old camp at the three knolls 
 just three days after we had been there. Sandy said 
 that it looked as though a cyclone had struck that 
 spot. In making a search over the battle-ground he 
 found where soi^^Jiigb^M^^gg buried in the sand 
 
82 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 and a fire made above it to hide the spot. Examiinng 
 it closely, he unearthed an English sovereign. The 
 balance of the money had evidently been dug up and 
 carried away by the survivors among the Indians, 
 and probably today lies hidden away in some one of 
 the many caverns of that mighty canyon. 
 
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CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT was well known that several bucks and a num- 
 ber of squaws and children escaped during that 
 
 last fight at the three knolls. They remained hid- 
 den away in the depth of the canyons, sallying out 
 occasionally to plunder foothill cabins, but dealing 
 no more death to the white man. Their reign of mis- 
 chief-making seemed to be at an end, and yet were 
 they to be heard from, at least indirectly, once more. 
 , After many months a number of squaws humbly 
 presented themselves to Hi Good and told him that 
 the entire remnant of the tribe would surrender if 
 assured of his protection. Hi was then living on Dry 
 Creek. Negotiations were carried on for some time, 
 and at length two bucks and three squaws, with a 
 number of children, moved down to Good's place 
 and told him that they were ready to be taken to the 
 Reservation. 
 
 However, reduced. as they were to this pitiful 
 handful, their innate treachery had not been beaten 
 out of them. Living with Good was an Indian boy 
 whom he had raised from childhood. This boy was 
 now about sixteen, and I have never had a doubt 
 that he was influenced by the older Indians to turn 
 traitor against the man who had given him a home. 
 
 With genuine Indian patience he watched and 
 
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84 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 waited for his opportunity. It came one day when 
 Good rode over to the Carter place on Deer Creek 
 for vegetables. After he was gone, the Indian boy 
 took Hi's rifle and slipped after him. He met Good 
 returning near Acorn Hollow, a brush-sided ravine 
 that puts out from the hills less than a mile north of 
 Deer Creek. 
 
 Hi was walking and leading his horse by means of 
 the bridle-rein, the animal carrying a sack of garden 
 stuff. The Indian permitted his victim to get withia 
 easy range, when, from his hidden lair, he took de- 
 liberate aim and fired. Good fell, but rose again and 
 started toward his assailant. The Indian, being \xn- 
 injured, easily kept out of his grasp, and a second 
 and a third bullet he drove into the white man's 
 body before the latter sank dovni dead. 
 
 The murderer then tried to dispose of the body. 
 He placed a rope around the dead man, and, looping 
 it to the saddle-horn, dragged the body some dis- 
 tance up the hollow, rolled it over a step bank, then, 
 climbing down, piled stones upon it. 
 
 The older Indians at once fled to the hills, but 
 the boy, if he went with them, soon returned to Dry 
 Creek. Inquiries for Good were soon made and the 
 conduct of the Indian boy excited suspicion. He 
 had an unusual amount of money in his possession, 
 and was found to be wearing a large silver ring of 
 Hi's upon his finger. Furthermore, he boastfully 
 carried Hi's rifle about with him. 
 
 Friends instituted a search and the body was 
 soon found. Th»g'MMtei'Wbeyo«f as taken to Acorn 
 
Fighting the Mill Creeks. 85 
 
 Hollow by Sandy Young and a number of others. 
 When shown the dead body, he at first denied all 
 knowledge of the crime ; but soon his manner altered 
 and he calmly made a full confession, and even led 
 the whites to the spot where the fatal shots had been 
 fired, and explained every step of the tragedy. 
 
 After all had been told, Sandy significantly 
 picked up his rifle, and his companions slipped away, 
 knowing that an act of retributive justice was about 
 to be enacted. Soon the sharp crack of the rifle rang 
 out above the chaparral and the last chapter in the 
 tragic death of Hi Good had been written. 
 
 A word as to the other members of our party who 
 trailed and fought the Indians through so many hard 
 days. Breckenridge went to the lower country, 
 where he met his death in a campaign against the 
 Indians of Arizona. Simmons, Martin and Williams 
 drifted to other regions, where I lost all trace of 
 them. "Bully" went to Nevada, where he secured 
 employment as hunter for a force of soldiers. While 
 so employed, he one day met a group of Piute In- 
 dians. They exchanged cordial greetings as they 
 rode past, but after riding a few rods they suddenly 
 whirled and shot him in the back, killing him in- 
 stantly. 
 
 Sandy Young lived in Chico for a number of 
 years after most of the others had passed away. 
 Finally, in company with Dan Sutherland, he went 
 to the Klamath River and engaged in mining. There 
 he mysteriously disappeared. His body was never 
 found, but it is generally believed that he was 
 
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86 Fighting the Mill Creeks. 
 
 treacherously murdered and his body disposed of in 
 some remote portion of that wild country. 
 ' It is but just that I should mention, in closing, the 
 circumstances which raised the hand of the Mill 
 Creek forever against the white. As in almost every 
 similar instance in American history, the first act 
 of injustice, the first spilling of blood, must be laid 
 at the white man's door. 
 
 A party of the Indians were encamped at the Car- 
 ter place on Deer Creek, being employed as work- 
 men by the Carter brothers. Some among them 
 killed a cow brute belonging to the white men. The 
 Carters got a small party together, followed the In- 
 dians up to a foothill camp, and attacked them with- 
 out giving the latter a chance to explain their action, 
 or make good the loss of the slaughtered animal. 
 Several Indians and one white man were killed, and 
 the fires of hatred kindled in the heart of the savage 
 were such as could be quenched only in the one way. 
 
 A remnant of the Indians who caused so much 
 uneasiness in those early days still remains hidden 
 away in the dark caverns of the hills. They haunt 
 that stretch of country from Deer Creek to Mill 
 Creek, making stealthy descents upon the cabin of 
 the white man, but committing no serious crimes. 
 They have developed the art of hiding to a perfec- 
 tion greater than that of the beasts of the woods, 
 and, while in no wise dangerous, they are probably 
 today the wildest people in Amenca; 
 
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 ii 
 
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