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ill-starred council was held. When the first puff of smoke rose above the council, Charka shouted to the soldiers below him, 'The Modocs are killing the Commissioners;" then drop- ping his glass, he started for the scene of blood in advance of the reserve which had been ordered out. Meeting his father, he demanded to know whether his mother had been killed, vowing vengeance meanwhile. It was with some difficulty

The Author. Present day.

he was- persuaded from going to the scene of slaughter, nor was he appeased until she appeared, coming on her horse.

BY JEFF C. RIDDLE.

My father, T. F. Riddle, was born in Kentucky, September 6, 1832. He came West in 1850, and he was all through California. During the gold excitement, he took part in three or four Indian wars.