chief, who is called Jam, said, “You ask me if these are my people’s arrows. I say yes.” Major Ormsbey said,
“That is enough.” He said to my brother Natchez,—
“Tell Captain Jam that his people have killed two men, and he must bring the men and all the money, and they shall not be hurt, and all will be right.” The Washoe chief said,—
“I know my people have not killed the men, because none of my men have been away; we are all at Pine-nut Valley, and I do not know what to think of the sad thing that has happened.”
“But here are your arrows, and you cannot say anything,” said my cousin, the war-chief. “We will give you ten days to bring the men who killed our two white brothers, and if you do not we shall have to fight you, for they have been so kind to us all. Who could have the heart to kill them? Now go and bring in the men.”
Poor, poor Washoes, they went away with very sad hearts. After they left brother talked with all his men, and asked them what they thought about it. They all said it was very strange, indeed; time would tell whether they killed them or not. Six days after, the Washoe chief came in with three prisoners. One of the prisoners had a wife, the other two had none, but their mothers came with them. The white men gathered round them and put handcuffs on them to lock them up in a small house for the night. Next morning all the white people came to see them. Some said, “Hang the red devils right off,” and the white boys threw stones at them, and used most shameful language to them. At about three o’clock in the afternoon came thirty-one white men, all with guns on their shoulders, and as they marched along my brother and cousin ran to meet them. One Washoe woman began to scream, “Oh, they have come to kill them!” How they did cry! One
