after the missions became rich, the fathers distributed all the surplus moneys among them in clothing and trinkets. Such was the general character of the early missions established in Upper California.

Let us now briefly consider what was the character and condition of the California Indian on the arrival of the Spanish Fathers. We have already given the experience of Sir Francis Drake and Father Junipero. We shall now endeavor to outline more closely the principal features of their manners and

customs.

For veracity's sake we must aver that the California Indian was anything but an easy subject for civilization. Knowledge he had none; his religion or morals were of the crudest form, while all in all he was the most degraded of mortals. He lived without labor, and existed for naught save his ease and pleasure. In physique he was unprepossessing; being possessed of much endurance and strength; his features were unattractive, his hair in texture like the mane of the horse, and his complexion as dark as the Ethiop's skin. His chief delight was the satisfying of his appetite and lust, while he lacked courage enough to be warlike, and was devoid of that spirit of independence usually the principal characteristic of his race. The best portion of his life was passed in sleeping and dancing, while in the temperate California climate the fertile valleys and hillsides grew an abundance of edible seeds and wild fruits, which were garnered, and by them held in great store. Such means of existence being so easily obtained is perhaps a reason for the wonderful disinclination of Indians to perform any kind of labor. Indeed, what need was there that they should toil, when beneficent Nature had, with a generosity that knew no stint, placed within their grasp an unlimited supply of health-giving food.

The aboriginal Californian's life was a roving one, for they had no fixed habitation, but roamed about from place to place, fishing, hunting, and gathering supplies. In every stream were fish, and on every mountain-side and valley, game; acorns and pine nuts, roots and wild oats were included in the category of their edibles, while it is said that their tastes precluded them not from eating vermin. Their remains consist of earth and shell mounds, which were used as places of sepulture, their dead being interred in a sitting posture, while ultra-civilized cremation was a common practice among them. Their dialects were as various as are those of China to-day, and the natives of San Diego could not understand those of Los Angeles or Monterey.

These Indians had as dwellings the meanest of huts, built of willows and thatched with tules or rushes. They were fashioned by taking a few poles and placing them in a circle; which were woven together to a conical point, giving them, when completed, the appearance of inverted baskets. They were small and easily warmed in winter, and when swarming with vermin could readily be reduced to ashes and others built in their places. Their cabins or "wickeup". were usually constructed on the banks of streams, or in the dells of mountains

but always near some running water-course. Here, without a vestige of covering, they slept like "sardines in a tin," those on the outer edge quarrelling, as in more civilized circles, for an inside place. On rising from their litters, be it summer or winter, the first performance would be a plunge into the river, after which they would dance and play around a large fire, when with a healthy appetite they would relish a hearty meal. This was their custom in the cold mountain regions as well as in the more temperate valleys. The skins of wild beasts made them a covering comfortable enough, but the males generally wore absolutely nothing upon their persons save an arrow passed through the hair as a skiver, something like the mode of hair ornament in vogue with fashionable belles some years ago. One of these warriors thus clad, on one occasion paid General Vallejo a visit at Sonoma. As the day was cold the General asked his guest if he was not cold. "No," was the answer, "Is your face cold?" 'Not at all," replied the veteran commandante, "I never wear anything on my face." "Then," rejoined the Indian, triumphantly pointing to his body, “I am all face!" The toilet of the women was more pretentious, consisting only of a scanty apron of fancy skins or feathers, extending to the knees. Those of them who were unmarried wore also a bracelet around the ancle or arm, near the shoulder. This ornament was generally made of bone or fancy wood. Polygamy was a recognized institution. Chiefs generally possessed eleven wives, sub-chiefs nine, and ordinary warriors, two or more, according to their wealth or property. But Indian-like, they would fight among themselves, and bloody fights they often were. Their weapons were bows and arrows, clubs and spears, with which they were very adroit. They wore a kind of helmet made of skins. They were remarkable athletes, and as swimmers and runners were unexcelled. In times of peace they kept up their martial spirit, little though it was, by sham fights and tournaments, their women participating in their battles, not as actual belligerents, but as a sanitary brigade; they followed their warriors and supplied them with provisions and attended them when wounded, carrying their pappooses on their backs at the same time.

In a descriptive sketch of Napa and the adjacent counties* C. A. Menefee, the author, says of the Indian of Upper California:

"Of navigation they were almost wholly ignorant. Their only method of crossing streams was by means of rafts constructed of bundles of tule bound together, somewhat similar, but far inferior to the balsas used by the Peruvian Indians upon Lake Titicaca, far up among the Andes.

"Their knowledge of the proper treatment of disease was on a level with their attainments in all the arts of life. Roots and herbs were sometimes used as remedies, but the 'sweat-house' was the principal reliance in desperate

* Historical and descriptive sketch-book of Napa, Sonoma, Lake and Mendocino, comprising sketches of their topography, productions, history, scenery, and peculiar attractions, by C. A. Menefee, Napa City, Reporter Publishing House, 1873.

cases. This great sanitary institution, found in every rancheria, was a large circular excavation, covered with a roof of boughs, plastered with mud, having a hole on one side for an entrance, and another in the roof to serve as a chimney. A fire having been lighted in the centre, the sick were placed there to undergo a sweat-bath for many hours, to be succeeded by a plunge in cold water. This treatment was their cure-all, and whether it killed or relieved the patient depended upon the nature of his disease and the vigor of his constitution. A gentleman who was tempted, some years ago, to enter one of the sanitary institutions, gives the following story of his experience:—

one at a time; When a dance

"A sweat-house is of the shape of an inverted bowl. It is generally about forty feet in diameter at the bottom, and is built of strong poles and branches of trees, covered with earth to prevent the escape of heat. There is a small hole near the ground, large enough for the Diggers to creep in and another at the top of the house, to give vent to the smoke. is to occur, a large fire is kindled in the centre of the edifice, the crowd assembles, the white spectators crawl in and seat themselves anywhere out of the The apertures, both above and below, are then closed, and the dancers take their position.

way.

"Four-and-twenty squaws, en dishabille, one side of the fire, and as many hombres in puris naturalibus on the other. Simultaneous with the commencement of the dancing, which is a kind of shuffling hobble-de-hoy, the music bursts forth. Yes, music fit to raise the dead. A whole legion of devils broke loose! Such screaming, shrieking, yelling and roaring was never before heard since the foundation of the world. A thousand cross-cut saws, filed by steam power-a multitude of tom-cats lashed together and flung over a clothes-line-innumerable pigs under the gate, all combined, would produce a heavenly melody compared with it. Yet this uproar, deafening as it is, might possibly be endured; but another sense soon comes to be saluted. Talk of the thousand stinks of the city of Cologne! Here are at least forty thousand combined in one grand overwhelming stench, and yet every particular odor distinctly definable. Round about the roaring fire the Indians go capering, jumping and screaming, with the perspiration starting from every pore. The spectators look on until the air grows thick and heavy, and a sense of oppressing suffocation overcomes them, when they make a simultaneous rush at the door, for self-protection. Judge of their astonishment, terror and dismay to find it fastened securely; bolted and barred on the outside. They rush frantically around the walls in hope to discover some weak point through which they may find egress; but the house seems to have been constructed purposely to frustrate such attempts. More furious than caged lions, they rush bodily against the sides, but the stout poles resist every onset. Our army swore terribly in Flanders, but even my uncle Toby himself would stand aghast were he here now.

"There is no alternative but to sit down in hopes that the troop of naked

fiends will soon cease from sheer exhaustion. Vain expectation! The uproar but increases in fury, the fire waxes hotter and hotter, and they seem to be preparing for fresh exhibitions of their powers. The combat deepens, on, ye brave! See that wild Indian, a newly-elected captain, as with glaring eyes, blazing face, and complexion like that of a boiled lobster, he tosses his arms wildly aloft, as in pursuit of imaginary devils, while rivers of perspiration roll down his naked frame. Was ever the human body thrown into such contortions before? Another effort of that kind and the whole vertebral column must certainly come down with a crash. Another such convulsion, and his limbs will assuredly be torn asunder, and the disjointed members fly to the four parts of the compass. Can the human frame endure this much longer? The heat is equal to that of a bake-oven. Temperature five hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Pressure of steam one thousand pounds to the square inch. The reeking atmosphere has become almost palpable, and the victimized audience are absolutely gasping for life. Millions for a cubic inch of fresh air, worlds for a drop of water to cool the parched tongue! This is terrible! To meet one's fate among the whitecaps of the Lake, in a swamped canoe, or to sink down on the bald mountain's brow, worn out by famine, fatigue and exposure, were glorious; but to die here, suffocating in a solution of human perspiration, carbonic acid gas and charcoal smoke, is horrible. The idea is absolutely appalling. But there is no avail. Assistance might as well be sought from a legion of unchained imps, as from a troop of Indians maddened by excitement.

The fire glim

"Death shows his visage, not more than five minutes distant. mers away, leagues off. The uproar dies into the subdued rumble of a remote cataract, and respiration becomes lower and more labored. The whole system is sinking into utter insensibility, and all hope of relief has departed, when suddenly a grand triumphal crash, similar to that with which the ghosts closed their orgies, when they doused the lights and started in pursuit of Tam O'Shanter and his old gray mare, the uproar ceases and the Indians vanish through an aperture, opened for the purpose. The half-dead victims to their own curiosity dash through it like an arrow, and in a moment more are drawing in whole bucketsfull of the cold, frosty air, every inhalation of which cuts the lungs like a knife, and thrills the system like an electric shock. They are in time to see the Indians plunge headlong into the ice-cold waters of a neighboring stream, and crawl out and sink down on the banks, utterly exhausted. This is the last act of the drama, the grand climax, and the fandango is over.' "The sweat-house also served as a council chamber and banquet hall. In it the bodies of the dead were sometimes burned, amid the howlings of the survivors. Generally, however, the cremation of the dead took place in the open air. The body, before burning, was bound closely together, the legs and arms folded, and forced, by binding, into as small a compass as possible. It was then placed upon a funeral pile of wood, which was set on fire by the mother, wife, or some near relative of the deceased, and the mourners, with their faces

daubed with pitch, set up a fearful howling and weeping. accompanied with the most frantic gesticulations. The body being consumed, the ashes were carefully collected.

"A portion of these were mingled with pitch, with which they daubed their faces and went into mourning. During the progress of the cremation, the friends and relatives of the deceased thrust sharp sticks into the burning corpse, and cast into the fire the ornaments, feather head-dresses, weapons, and everything known to have belonged to the departed. They had a superstitious dread of the consequences of keeping back any article pertaining to the defunct. An old Indian woman, whose husband was sick, was recently asked what ailed him. Her reply was, he had kept some feathers belonging to a dead Indian that should have been burned with his body, and that he would be sick till he died.'

"The idea of a future state was universal among the California Indians, and they had a vague idea of rewards and punishments. As one expressed it, 'Good Indian go big hill; bad Indian go bad place.' Others thought if the deceased had been good in his life-time, his spirit would travel west to where the earth and sky meet, and become a star; if bad, he would be changed into a grizzly, or his spirit-wanderings would continue for an indefinite period. They expressed the idea of the change from this life to another by saying that 'as the moon died and came to life again, so man came to life after death;' and they believed that 'the hearts of good chiefs went up to the sky, and were changed into stars to keep watch over their tribes on earth.' Although exceedingly superstitious, they were evidently not destitute of some religious conceptions. Certain rocks and mountains were regarded as sacred. Uncle Sam, in Lake county, was one of these sacred mountains, and no one, except the priest or wizard of his tribe, dared to ascend it. Two huge bowlders, between Napa City and Capel Valley, were also sacred, and no Indian would approach them. They also held the grizzly in superstitious awe, and nothing could induce them to eat its flesh.

The Diggers too had their sorcerers, male and female, who had great influence over them. They pretended to foresee future events, and to exercise supernatural control over their bodies, and to cure diseases by curious incantations and ceremonies. They likewise believed in a Cucusuy, or mischief-maker, who took delight in their annoyance, and to him and his agent they attributed much of their sickness and other misfortunes. It may not be out of place here to relate the following legend:

When the Spaniards were crossing the mountain called Bolgones, where an Indian spirit was supposed to dwell, having a cave for his haunt, he was disturbed by the approach of the soldiers, and, emerging from the gloom, arrayed in all his feathers and war-paint, and very little else by way of costume, motioned to them to depart, threatening, by gesticulation, to weave a spell around them; but the sturdy warriors were not to be thus easily awed. They