Page:Life Amongst the Modocs.djvu/379

 a stick

marked out the world in the sand, showed him how narrow were his possessions, and told him where all his wars must end. He gave me permission to go, and said nothing more. He seemed bewildered.

The old chief, the day before my departure, rode down with me from the high mountains to the beau tiful Now-aw-wa valley, where I had built a cabin years before. We stopped on a hill overlooking the valley and dismounted; he took fragments of lava and built a little monument. He pointed out high landmarks away below the valley embracing almost as much land as you could journey around in a day s travel.

" This is yours. All this valley is yours ; I give it to you with my own hand." He went down the hill a little way, and taking up some of the earth brought it to me and sprinkled it upon and before my feet.

"It is all yours," he said, u you have done all you could do, and deserve it; besides, I have no one to leave it to now but you."

u You will go on your way, will win a place in life, and when you return you will have lands, a home and hunting-grounds. These you will find here when you return, but you will not find me, nor one of my children, nor one of my tribe."

The poor old Indian, battle-worn, wounded and broken in spirit, he was all heart, all tenderness and truth and devotion. He could not understand why that land should not be wholly mine. H