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A Storm of Witchcraft The Salem Trials and the
American Experience 1st Edition Emerson W. Baker
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Emerson W. Baker
ISBN(s): 9780199890347, 019989034X
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 3.35 MB
Year: 2014
Language: english
a storm of witchcraft
 Pivotal Moments in American History
series editors
David Hackett Fischer
James M. McPherson
David Greenberg

James T. Patterson Sally McMillen

Brown v. Board of Education: A Civil Rights Seneca Falls and the Origins of the
Milestone and Its Troubled Legacy Women’s Rights Movement

Maury Klein Howard Jones

Rainbow’s End: The Crash of 1929 The Bay of Pigs

James McPherson Elliott West

Crossroads of Freedom: The The Last Indian War: The Nez Perce Story
Battle of Antietam
Lynn Hudson Parsons
Glenn C. Altschuler The Birth of Modern Politics:
All Shook Up: How Rock ’n’ Andrew Jackson, John Quincy
Roll Changed America Adams, and the Election of 1828

David Hackett Fischer Glenn C. Altschuler & Stuart M. Blumin

Washington’s Crossing The GI Bill: A New Deal for Veterans

John Ferling Richard Archer

Adams vs. Jefferson: The As If an Enemy’s Country: The
Tumultuous Election of 1800 British Occupation of Boston and
the Origins of Revolution
Joel H. Silbey
Storm over Texas: The Annexation Thomas Kessner
Controversy and the Road to Civil War The Flight of the Century:
Charles Lindbergh and the Rise
Raymond Arsenault of American Aviation
Freedom Riders: 1961 and the
Struggle for Racial Justice Craig L. Symonds
The Battle of Midway
Colin G. Calloway
The Scratch of a Pen: 1763 and the Richard Moe
Transformation of North America Roosevelt’s Second Act: The Election
of 1940 and the Politics of War
Richard Labunski
James Madison and the Struggle
for the Bill of Rights
A Storm of Witchcraft
The Salem Trials and the American Experience

Emerson W. Baker

1
 1
Oxford University Press is a department of the
University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective
of excellence in research, scholarship, and education
by publishing worldwide.

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Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press

in the UK and certain other countries.

Published in the United States of America by

Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016

© Emerson W. Baker 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press,
or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with
the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning
reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the
Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above.

You must not circulate this work in any other form,

and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Baker, Emerson W., author.
A storm of witchcraft : the Salem trials and
the American experience / Emerson W. Baker.
p. cm. (Pivotal moments in American history)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-19-989034-7
1. Trials (Witchcraft)—Massachusetts—Salem.
2. Witchcraft—Massachusetts—Salem—History. I. Title.
KFM2478.8.W5B35 2014
345.744'50288—dc23
2014009692

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
 Dedicated to
the victims of the Salem witch trials
and
Peggy, Megan, and Sarah
 Contents

List of Figures ix

List of Illustrations xi

Editor’s Note xiii

Introduction: An Old Valuables Cabinet 3

chapter one Satan’s Storm 14

chapter two The City upon a Hill 43

chapter three Drawing Battle Lines in Salem Village 69

chapter four The Afflicted 98

chapter five The Accused 125

chapter six The Judges 161

chapter seven An Inextinguishable Flame 194

chapter eight Salem End 229

chapter nine Witch City? 256

Appendices287

Acknowledgments297

Notes303

Index367
 List of Figures

Map of Salem and Salem Village in 1692 17

Map of coastal New England from Boston to Pemaquid 45

Map of Salem in the early 1640s 71

Floor plan of the Salem Village parsonage 89

Map of Salem Village with original covenant signers 121

Family connections between the judges of the

Court of Oyer and Terminer 163

The world of the judges 184

Locations of the Salem diaspora, with modern

political boundaries 239

 List of Illustrations

Joseph and Bathsheba Pope valuables chest 4

Miniature portrait of Reverend Samuel Parris 18

The Ingersoll Tavern today 19

Replica of the Salem Village meetinghouse 79

Horseshoe and trident (eel spear) from the Zerubabbel Endicott House 132

Rebecca Nurse House 152

Sir William Phips 201

Daisy wheel carved in early nineteenth-century door trim 210

The Dawn of Tolerance in Massachusetts, by Albert Herter 223

Gravestone of Elizabeth Parris 232

Sarah and Peter Cloyce House, Salem End, Framingham 240

The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill,

by John Trumbull 243

Shoulder patch showing the logo of the Salem Police Department 277

Salem Witchcraft Memorial 280

Site of the Salem Courthouse 282

The Samantha Stevens Statue on Halloween in Salem 283

 Editor’s Note

Few events in American history have been the subject of so much writing
through so many generations, and in such a multitude of ways, as has the
Salem witchcraft crisis of 1692–93. It has inspired some of the most en-
during works of American literature, drama, and film, and also much of
the best scholarship in American history. Interest continues to grow, and at
an exponential rate. The pace of publication has doubled in the past three
decades, with new fields of inquiry, and old fields renewed. Women’s studies
have generated much productive research. Not so productive, but highly
­expansive, has been the growth of popular interest in the occult. When a col-
league offered a new research course on Salem witchcraft, many students
registered. After the first class, a few withdrew. Some explained that they
had thought it was a course in witchcraft.
In a crowded field, Emerson Baker’s new book builds on the strength
of much serious research, and it makes a major contribution. The author
has an intimate knowledge of the place and time and culture in which the
Salem witchcraft crisis occurred. He has published many books and essays
on related subjects and has a firm command of primary sources, which sur-
vive in extraordinary abundance. On witchcraft in Salem alone, documents
filled Charles Upham’s two volumes in 1864, Archie Frost’s WPA report in
1938, Boyer and Nissenbaum’s three large tomes in 1977, and the larger
project of Bernard Rosenthal and eleven associate editors in 2009. Baker
knows this evidence well. He also has an unrivalled mastery of unpublished
manuscripts in even greater quantity, and makes much use of material arti-
facts and historical archaeology.
editor’s note

A special strength of this book is Baker’s way of working with secondary

writings. Important studies of the events in Salem and of witchcraft more
generally have appeared in medicine, psychology, ecology, demography,
­economics, law, literature, philosophy, and in many fields of social science.
These materials are not merely cited here. They are to put to work, and very
creatively.
This subject has always been bitterly contested, and the level of engage-
ment today is stronger than ever. Baker has his own impassioned views, but
he discusses the literature with a rare combination of balance, empathy,
and maturity. He also has a willingness and even an eagerness to learn
from others. Baker thinks of the “storm of witchcraft” in Salem as a perfect
storm. That approach becomes a frame for integrating other scholarship in
a constructive way. Every major work on the subject is discussed here,
always in a large-minded, generous, and yet critical spirit.
Another strength of this book appears in its architecture, which is
highly original, and very creative in another way. It may become a model
for writings on other subjects. The first substantive chapter is a short nar-
rative that spans the entire witchcraft crisis. It is a lively and fast-moving
story of stories, from the first “strange events” in January 1692, through
the executions of September 1692, to the last legal proceedings on May 9,
1693, when a grand jury refused to indict Tituba, the Indian slave whose
confession had triggered it all. This chapter draws the reader into the
book and gives a clear and coherent overview. It opens the way for five ex-
planatory chapters, which constitute about 60 percent of the book. Each
has its own narrative line and addresses an analytic question.
Chapter two is about the town of Salem and the main lines of New
England’s history in relation to the witchcraft crisis. It incorporates two
generations of scholarship on economics, politics, religion, and war, with
particular attention to its impact on Salem.
The third chapter looks more closely at Salem Village, a small outlying
hamlet, now the town of Danvers. Salem Village was the throbbing heart
of the witchcraft crisis. Here Baker builds on seminal studies of social and
cultural tensions by Boyer and Nissenbaum, written forty years ago, but
also advances far beyond that work.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth chapters examine three sets of participants:
the accusers, the accused, and the judges. We get to know these people as
individuals and groups, in very compelling ways. Their personal accounts

xiv
 editor’s note

awaken primal emotions in the reader and carry us to new levels of

under­­standing.
The last three chapters are about the aftermath of the witchcraft crisis,
and they invite us to reflect on the larger meaning of the event. The appen-
dices also confront us with the appalling magnitude of this judicial tyranny:
twenty people executed, at least 156 people formally accused, and 113 im-
prisoned in horrific prisons that killed or gravely injured many more. But at
the same time, hundreds of New Englanders came to the defense of these
victims. With great courage, at least two hundred people wrote individual
letters or testified in support, at the height of the frenzy and at the risk of
arrest and even execution themselves.
Arguably the most important and least studied fact about the Salem
witchcraft persecution of 1692 is that it was brought to an end, and deliber-
ately so. That great fact made this grievous event a pivotal moment of high
importance, and not only in American history. Most societies in the early
modern world judicially persecuted witches in large numbers. The first to
stop was New England. No witches were executed there after 1692, because
the people of this region awakened to the evil they had done. They also did
something more. New Englanders of many generations have dedicated
themselves to the proposition that it must never happen again. This is what
Baker calls the “inextinguishable flame” of the witchcraft crisis. It is also
what makes this volume a book of profound importance for years to come.

David Hackett Fischer

xv
a storm of witchcraft
 introduction

An Old Valuables Cabinet

If the prayers of good people may obtain this favor of God, that the
mysterious assaults from hell now made upon so many of our friends
may be thoroughly detected and defeated, we suppose the curious will
be entertained with as rare an history as perhaps an age has had.
—Benjamin Harris, April 16921

Tucked away in a corner of the Peabody Essex Museum in the City of Salem
sits one of the great artifacts of early American history: a small oak valu-
ables cabinet. Its elaborate carvings, turnings and geometric shapes speak
to its beauty and craftsmanship. The center panel features a sunburst that
surrounds the inscription “I&BP 79.” The initials refer to its owners, Joseph
and Bathsheba Pope (the letter J was not yet utilized in the seventeenth
century, so the I did double duty for it). The Popes were married in 1679,
and the cabinet, presumably a wedding gift, was likely made by James
Symonds, a master furniture maker. It was passed down in the family until
it was acquired by the museum at auction in 2000. The Popes were Quakers
who lived in Salem Village, members of a small but significant minority of

3
a storm of witchcraft

religious dissenters who had been persecuted by the Bay Colony. In 1692
the Popes turned the tables. Like some of her neighbors, Bathsheba said
she was afflicted by witches, specifically claiming that the specters of John
Procter, Martha Cory, and Rebecca Nurse tormented her. Joseph Pope
added his testimony against Procter. The court convicted and executed all
three of the accused.
A rare early piece of locally made seventeenth-century furniture with an
impeccable history of ownership and a strong tie to the Salem witch trials,
the cabinet is a remarkable relic—a status reflected in the formidable $2.4
million that the museum had to pay to win it at auction in 2000.2 Yet what
makes the cabinet truly a treasure is rarely noted: the Popes’ nephew was
Benjamin Franklin. Specifically, Bathsheba’s youngest sister, Abiah, was
Franklin’s mother. In one generation, one Massachusetts family would go
from victims of witchcraft to producing one of the leaders of the American
Enlightenment. While his aunt and uncle would join the frenzied call for
witch executions, Ben Franklin would make the reasoned case for a new

Joseph and Bathsheba Pope valuables chest. Photograph courtesy of the Peabody-Essex
Museum, image number 138011POPECABINET.TIF.

4
 an old valuables cabinet

nation, dedicated to liberty and freedom. The Pope cabinet shows just how
soon after Salem that the American colonies would turn their back on the
Age of Witch Hunts and embrace the Age of Reason.
The story of the Popes and their cabinet also reveals the complexities be-
hind witch trials in Salem and elsewhere in New England, as well as some
of the inaccuracies in how these events are often portrayed. Traditional
textbooks and popular tales make the trials sound like a Puritan affair,
yet the Popes were Quakers. The afflicted in Salem were almost all fe-
male and are usually referred to as “girls,” yet Bathsheba was forty when
she made her accusations. Furthermore, men had made up the majority of
accusers in New England witchcraft cases before 1692. Bathsheba and her
cohorts suffered “spectral attack”—that is, they were assaulted by a spirit
that was invisible to everyone except the afflicted. This, too, was rare before
Salem. Typically a witch was accused of maleficium, or harmful witchcraft.
Maleficium could cause injury to livestock and crops, destruction of prop-
erty, or even illness or death, but a witch need not employ a specter to cause
such evil. Though what happened in 1692 is often portrayed as a local affair,
Bathsheba Folger Pope was born and raised on distant Nantucket Island.
As the circle of accusation grew in Salem Village, the afflicted would even
point the finger at people they had never seen in person. These are but a few
of the contradictions behind what happened in 1692 during a witch hunt
that in many ways was an aberration from earlier proceedings.3
The striking design motifs of the Pope cabinet provide some insights into
life in 1692 as well. The decorations are an interplay of classical elements,
geometry, and S-curves. Like the chest, early Salem was a rich mosaic of
ideas and influences. Its settlers came from different regions and back-
grounds and held a range of beliefs. Darkened with age, the cabinet now
appears somber and drab—just as the Puritans are all too often depicted.
Yet, constructed from different types of wood with contrasting colors and
highlighted with black and red paint, in 1679 the cabinet as well as the
people of Salem were far from dull. Rather they were complicated, vibrant,
and bright.
Like the Pope cabinet, the story of the Salem witch trials is both a relic
and a living piece of history. Little wonder that it has drawn many to it. In
1970 John Demos began an article on witchcraft in the American Historical
Review with this statement: “It is faintly embarrassing for a historian to
summon his colleagues to still another consideration of early New England

5
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
"Where did you get this wonderful plant?"
"It was given me by Ulama, the beautiful daughter of Mellenda,"
answered the old woman, proudly. "This is like her smiling face," she
continued, going back to a cupboard and getting a curious old
parchment roll from a shelf. As she unwound the figure the
astonished Spaniards saw a fair representation of a yellow-haired girl
with a circlet of gold set with gems on her head. On the breast of
her flowing robe there was a golden star, and around the waist there
was a jeweled girdle.
"Can you read this picture writing?" asked one of the Spaniards.
"It is the language of my forefathers, and as a child I could speak it
well. Listen, and I will tell you what it says. Long years ago there
was a rich and powerful white race living in these lands, and they
built a wonderful city on the Mountain of Gold. But the Children of
Darkness captured the city, and they enticed people up there so they
could sacrifice them to the Devil-tree. There is never any thunder or
lightning on top of Roraima, and its crest is a flat tableland edged
with a high forest and guarded by white eagles. The mountains
surrounding it were once islands in a great lake, and Mellenda was
the ancient king of the Children of Light who lived there. The King
was a man of peace and very great wisdom, and he had a wife and
four beautiful children whom his enemies, the Children of Darkness,
sacrificed to the Devil-tree while he was away in a distant part of the
kingdom. He had a great fleet and could have punished the Children
of Darkness."
The old crone ceased speaking, and seemed lost in deep study.
Finally Carino roused her by asking:
"Did Mellenda do nothing for revenge?"
"No; he went away, but he promised he would come back again, and
he will. Not long after his departure came the great sinking of the
waters, and the lake of Parima has disappeared into another region
of our country. For centuries after this the surrounding land was but
a chaos of swamp and mud. By degrees vegetation grew up, and in
time the trees became the thick tangled forest that cannot now be
penetrated."
"Did this Mellenda take with him all the gold and silver?" asked a
Cavalier, intent upon finding something worth carrying away.
"In the city on top of the mountain is kept a full suit of his gold
armor, bright and ready, waiting to receive him."
"We will get it and take it home with us," said the Spaniards, now all
eagerness.
"We, of Mellenda's race, firmly believe that he will come again, and
none of us would dare touch any of his belongings," said the crone,
earnestly.
"You need not touch it," began one of the Cavaliers. "We will bring it
down the trail ourselves."
"There is no trail up the sides of Roraima. The entrance to its hidden
passageway is guarded by a giant Devil-tree."
"Did you ever see this Devil-tree?" asked her visitors.
"Yes; a few years ago, I took my two pumas and went to the cave
for a certain purpose. As we stood looking at the monstrous thing
one of its long, horny branches crept toward us, and one of the
pumas sprang forward to bite it. Instantly it curled around the body
of the poor creature, dragging it until they came to the trunk of the
tree. Here shorter and thicker limbs knotted together over the
struggling puma, and finally all rose in the air and almost
disappeared in the hollow trunk."
"Did you make no effort to rescue your pet?"
"I hacked the first branch with an axe until it bled a dark, crimson
liquid that smelled so badly I was deathly sick. Every inch of the
bark is covered with small mouths that pierce the flesh and suck the
blood of its victims. I kept watch until the moon came out, and then
the knots of limbs unrolled and out fell something. Each branch
tossed it before it reached the ground, when I saw it was the
crushed and lifeless puma. Out of a slimy pool near by rushed huge
alligators, and in a few minutes they were eating what the Devil-tree
left of the puma."
"Let us go away from here," said the Spaniards among themselves.
"Instead of being an earthly paradise, this is an infernal region."
When they were bidding the old crone good-bye the next morning,
she looked at them sharply and said:
"You came here searching for gold, and expected to find it ready for
your use. My friends, the great blessings of life must be worked for
and earned. You cannot cheat your way into Heaven, nor will you or
your people ever find any more hidden treasures belonging to other
races. You will earn all the fortunes you get after this adventure."
 The Amazon Queens
W E should all get very tired I am sure if we tried to
follow the Spaniards into every nook and corner of
the New World where they went in search of El
Dorado, but we are interested in knowing that the
name Costa Rica means the rich coast, because it was one of the El
Dorado regions, and in Panama, the little narrow strip of land which
unites North and South America, they expected to find a Castle of
Gold, while the Island of Porto Rico is also one of the homes of El
Dorado. It made no difference to the Spaniards whether the natives
in these places had heard of the Golden Hearted or not. They only
wanted to find the riches of the country, and would not have listened
to any teaching other than that brought by the padres. So for years
and years they kept on making mistakes and undergoing the most
terrible hardships trying to acquire sudden wealth.
One of the stories that is very queer was that about the Amazon
Queens. Columbus wrote of them, and this is what he said:
"On the first island discovered on the voyage from Spain to the
Indies, no men are allowed to live. The female warriors do not follow
any womanly occupations, but use bows and arrows of cane, and
cover as well as arm themselves with brazen plates, of which they
have many."
He says nothing of their having great wealth, but Cortez also heard
of them, and wrote to the King of Spain that the island was ten days
distance from a province in Mexico, and that many persons had gone
there and seen the women warriors. He concludes his letter by
saying:
"I am told that these fighting women are rich in pearls and gold."
This news was quite enough to start the Spaniards on a search for
the island, and, as usual, the Indians gave them much contradictory
information about its location. Some said it was north and some said
it was south, so exploring parties were sent in both directions. A
man by the name of Guzman came up into Mexico as far north as
Sinaloa, looking for this wonderful island, and his march was one of
devastation and murder. He not only compelled the Indians to
accompany him as slaves to do all the drudgery, but tortured such
chiefs as he thought had gold, and in many cases killed them
because they either did not give it to him quickly enough, or in as
large quantities as he wanted. The farther north he went the poorer
the natives were.
"Instead of a rich island inhabited by soldierly women," he
exclaimed, in disgust, "I find a few insignificant villages occupied by
women and children, because the men have all fled to the
mountains. In the whole country there is not a trace of gold, pearls
or treasures of any kind."
Along the way he found very scant supplies of gold, and this made
him furious, for he returned to the city of Mexico poorer than when
he left it.
Pizarro and his followers in Peru heard of the Amazon Queens, and
so did Sir Walter Raleigh and the German adventurers, but their
country was said to be along the banks of a very wide river in South
America. The Indians called them the Great Ladies, and the river has
since been named the Amazon in their honor.
"If the Great Ladies do not invite you to visit them, it is a very
dangerous thing to attempt," said the Indian guides to Orellana, the
man who discovered the Amazon river, and was the first to sail its
entire length.
"Why do you say that?" asked Orellana.
"Because they are tall, strong-limbed and fair, and are great fighters.
They wind their long hair across their foreheads in thick bands, and
defend themselves well."
"What kind of weapons do they use?" queried the Spanish soldiers,
when they could stop laughing at the Indians for being afraid of a lot
of women.
"They shoot with blow-pipes, bows and arrows, and have a war-club
that they wield with great vigor," answered the Indians, with serious
faces.
"Are they always so hostile to men?"
"Only the grandfathers of this generation have seen them, and none
save the Kings of the Borderers ever venture near their habitation."
"How are the Kings of the Borderers received by these strange
women?"
"They meet them at the frontier of their possessions with bows and
arrows in their hands, but after an exchange of pledges the Great
Ladies invite the men to come and feast and dance with them.
Sometimes they stay a month, and then the Queens escort them to
the edge of their land, and send them home loaded with presents."
"What kind of presents do they give?" asked the Spaniards, suddenly
taking a great interest in what was being said.
"There are gold ornaments in plenty, and emeralds and pearls,
besides the grains of gold carried in eagle quills."
"We will capture these Great Ladies," interrupted the Spaniards,
excitedly. "We will teach them their proper places when we get hold
of them. Why do you Indians allow them to live in such a manner?"
"Our forefathers have taught us to hold them in great veneration,
because they live in a Mansion of the Sun. Long years ago they were
Virgins of the Sun, but in the wars between the different tribes they
were allowed to separate from the rest and live in a community by
themselves."
"Do they build houses?"
"They have temples, and keep the sacred fires burning on the altars,
as was done in olden times."
"Who rules them, and what do they do with their boy babies?"
"They select their own queen, and the boy babies are given to the
Kings of the Borderers; they only keep girl babies in their tribe, and
when they grow up they become either warriors or priestesses."
"How do they support themselves?"
"By hunting, fishing, weaving cloth and trading with their neighbors."
"Where do they get their riches?"
"From the mountains of Parima, where they have secret storehouses
filled with treasures they have been hoarding for ages."
This pleased the Spaniards very much, and quite decided them to
make a raid upon that country. Even after they had talked the matter
over fully among themselves they recalled the Indians and
questioned them still further.
"Would you be afraid to undertake to fight these strange women?"
they asked, when they saw that the guides were unwilling to
accompany them.
"No, we are not afraid, but we are enjoined to let them alone. None
of us would ever think of disturbing them. They are very fierce, and
will kill any man that they do not like."
 "A FLOWER OFFERING"

"But you could easily conquer women warriors," urged the

Spaniards, now eager to commence the journey.
"It would not be so easily done as you imagine," said the guides,
shaking their heads doubtfully. "The Great Ladies wear thick shields
and cover their clothes with metal discs which turn away an arrow
point."
"We can easily overcome that protection with our guns, and we are
not commanded to respect them," replied the Spaniards.
"You will find that they have deep underground retreats to which
they fly in times of danger, and they are known to be excellent
shots."
Just then a party of prospectors returned from the mountains where
they had been looking for gold. Among the things they brought was
a number of thin, flat green stones with holes pierced in each end,
showing that they had been used for ornaments. The Indian guides
said at once they were the same kind of emerald as that worn by the
Amazon Queens for an amulet against disease.
"How did you succeed in getting them?" they asked.
"From some Indian pedlars we met with packs on their backs. They
said the stones would cure the spleen, and we have been wearing
them ever since."
"Did you have any difficulty in persuading the pedlars to part with
them?"
"No; they said they got them from a tribe of women warriors many
leagues to the south, but we did not believe them."
"It is all true," said the guides, "and these Great Ladies have been in
that land a very long time."
"If we can find enough of these spleen stones to make our trip
profitable we do not care whether we meet the Great Ladies or not,"
said the prospectors, when told of the proposed trip in search of the
Amazon Queens.
As the party pushed forward into the tangled thickets, they found
cocoanuts, and plantains, ripe and ready to eat, and they also found
some very juicy little canteloupes growing on a vine, but none of the
Indians living on, or near the Amazon river, could tell them where to
find the Queens. They searched up and down the banks for a hidden
passageway which was said to guard the entrance to their mountain
home, but to all questions the river made no answer. To the
disappointed Spaniards it looked angry, sullen and relentless in the
untamed might of its turbid waters.
"It seems to be always summer here," said the weary soldiers, "but
one would die of malarial poisoning if compelled to stay long."
Some of the guides felt sorry for the sick men, and went into the
woods and brought them sarsaparilla bark, and made them a tea of
it.
"Drink this," they said, "because it will cure your sickness which
comes from the head. If your heart was strong with love for your
brothers you would find blessings in this land. As it is you seek to
plunder and rob the Great Ladies, but the Sun is their father, and he
will make the mountains, trees and rocks hide them and their
treasures."
"It is no use to look for these women any longer. We shall all die
before we can reach them," said the leader, wearily.
And no one to this day knows just where the Amazon Queens lived.
 The Seven Cities of Cibola
T HE Nahuas in Mexico were really a sect of wise
men descended from those that came with the
Golden Hearted. They believed that they originated
in Seven Caves, which were not locations at all, but was only a way
of saying that human beings have seven wonderful qualities. They
might have thought so because we can see, feel, taste, hear and
smell, and have instinct and are able to reason, or it may have been
something else. At any rate, it did not mean actual caves, but was a
symbol. In later times when people were not so wise, they said it
was seven tribes instead of caves, and when the Spaniards heard
about it they managed to twist it into seven cities, and immediately
conceived the idea that great riches and gold could be found in
them. When questioned on the subject the Indians said:
"To the far north there are seven wonderful cities where the people
make arrow-heads of emeralds and take the sweat off their bodies
with scrapers of pure gold, and have jeweled gates, and turquoise
ornaments over their doors."
"Do these men know how to work precious stones and metals?"
asked the Spaniards eagerly.
"There are long streets filled with jewelers who make rings for the
ears, nose and arms," they said. "Forty days must you journey to
reach this land, and you must travel through a desert where there is
neither water nor food to be had."
The first Spaniard to attempt the search for the Seven Cities was the
cruel Guzman, who looked north for the Amazons. He had with him
quite an army, and his men were so excited over the stories they
heard that they scarcely took time to eat or sleep on the way. They
hoped every day to find the cities, but instead of this the country
grew more desolate, the road more difficult, and the cities still
farther to the north. Then the Spaniards began to complain, and
said:
"We have been deceived, and shall all die in this bleak land. Let us
return to Mexico." And they did. For six years no one had the
courage to seek the Seven Cities.
Then something very strange happened.
Into a little seaport where Cortez had ordered some ships built to
explore the western coast, came wandering four strange men. They
were barefooted, and had no clothing except some old, dirty skins
with the hair worn off in spots. Their heads were a perfect mass of
tangles, and their beards reached almost to the knees. Falling flat on
their faces before the first white man they saw, they cried out in a
loud voice:
"Thank God! We are safe at last!" When the astonished Spaniard
turned to look at them, they seized his hands and kissed them, and
springing to their feet danced and shouted for joy.
"These are escaped maniacs," said the people, gathering around to
look at them. "Whatever shall we do with mad men?"
"No, no! You do not understand. We are poor wanderers who have
been lost for years among the Indians."
"Let us take them to our Captain. There is something very strange
about this," said the Spaniards, and they started at once.
"Who are you?" asked the Captain, rudely, looking with disgust at
their dirt and rags.
"I am a noble of Castile who came to help conquer Florida, and my
name is De Vaca," said the oldest man. "The fleet was wrecked and
all were lost except my companions here, and me. All the years since
we have been with the Indians."
"I do not believe a word of it," said the Captain. "Put these fellows in
prison until we find out about them. They may be criminals."
For three months they lay in prison, and then the Alcalde came and
released them.
"Tell me your story," he said.
"When the ships were lost," responded De Vaca, "we swam to the
mainland, and were captured by the Indians. They were a poor,
starved tribe who lived on roots and berries, and often went days
without a mouthful. We had with us a rattle, and this, with our
beards, made them think we came from Heaven, and were great
medicine men. They fell on their faces before us and gave us all they
had. We asked them to take us where the sun sets, but they
refused, and we pretended to be very angry, until they finally let us
go. After months of wandering we came to a land of plenty, where
the people were wealthy, and wore beautiful plumes in their head-
dresses. They brought us five emeralds cut into arrow-heads, and
many fine turquoises, and beads made of coral. When I asked where
they got these stones, they pointed to some lofty mountains toward
the north and told us the gems came from there, and that near
them were large cities, with houses three or four stories high. I did
not go there because I heard that toward the sunset were other
men of my kind, and I longed once more to look upon the face of a
Spaniard."
"Of course," said the people, as they talked the matter over, "these
are the same cities Guzman tried to find. He did not go in the right
direction, but we know where they are," and many were eager to set
out at once. But the Viceroy was a quiet and careful man.
"There have been many lives lost already," he said, "and it will be
best not to hurry. I shall not send an army there until I am sure."
Then he thought of a padre, named Fray Marcos, who had lived
much among the Indians of the north, and he sent for him, and
said:
"Perhaps there lies to the north as rich a nation as Mexico or Peru. If
so it must be conquered for the Church and the King of Spain. You
know how to speak to the Indians, and it might be that they would
let you come among them and learn the truth. Will you undertake to
do so?"
"God giving me strength I will," said Fray Marcos, with enthusiasm.
"Very well. The negro Stephen, who was with De Vaca is here, and is
willing to be your guide. If you come to any great city do not send
back word, but return yourself and tell me about it. Make all your
plans and set out as soon as possible."
Fray Marcos did as he was told, but it was several months before
anything was heard of him. One day a traveler, in a monk's gown,
came walking into the same seaport that De Vaca had visited.
"It is Fray Marcos, who went in search of the Seven Cities! Did you
find them! Are they full of wealth? Where is the negro Stephen?"
Fray Marcos would not answer their questions.
"I have much to tell, but my news is for the Viceroy himself," said
the padre, and he started for the city of Mexico. When there he said
to the Viceroy:
"The Indians came out to meet and welcome me everywhere. They
had food ready for me, and where there were no houses, they built
bowers of trees and flowers that I might rest safe from the sun. I
spent four days journeying through a desert, and then I found some
Indians who marveled much to see me. They thought, because I
was white and wore a gown, that I must have come from Heaven. I
asked them if they knew of any great kingdom where there were
seven large cities, and they told me that farther on were high
mountains with wide plains at the foot where the people lived in
cities and clothed themselves in cotton. I sent Stephen ahead three-
score leagues, and charged him to send back Indians to bring me
news of his success. If the country was poor and mean, he was to
send me a cross no longer than my hand; if it were a goodly place
the cross was to be two lengths of a hand, and if he found what he
sought he was to send me a large cross. In four days a messenger
came from Stephen bearing a cross as high as a man. He brought
news of a mighty province called Cibola, thirty days journey
northward from the town where Stephen was. In this province there
are seven great cities governed by one Prince."
"You should have followed at once to make sure that all these things
were true," said the Viceroy, now very much interested.
"I did," responded Fray Marcos. "Each day messengers came to me
carrying large crosses and giving more particulars concerning Cibola.
Finally I entered a valley where there were many people, and all of
them had turquoises hanging from their noses, and ears, and collars
of the same three or four times double around their necks. Then I
had to go through another desert, and was beginning to get very
tired when one day there came running to me, an Indian in great
fright—his body covered with sweat and dust, and his face showing
extreme sadness. He said that the day before Stephen had reached
Cibola, and had sent guides into the city with presents for the chief,
and to let them know he came in peace. But the great Lord of the
City flew into a rage and dashed the presents to the ground. He
drove the messengers out in fury, and said he would kill them if they
came back again. He said, too, that he would kill Stephen. But the
negro was not afraid, and went directly into the city. Instantly they
were seized and cast into a prison, where they were kept all night
without anything to eat or drink. The next morning Stephen and his
guides tried to escape, but the people killed all of them except one
other and the messenger who came to me. These two were struck
down and left for dead, but were only stunned, and when the angry
people went away they crept out in the night, and made their
escape."
"What did you do then, Fray Marcos?" asked the Viceroy.

"ONE OF THE SEVEN CITIES OF CIBOLA"

"So great was my grief that it seemed for a moment as if I should

die, but when my guides began to weep and lament I gave them the
presents I intended for the Lord of Cibola, and resolved to go and
see the city, even if I could not enter it. I traveled one day and came
to a round hill, which I climbed. Looking down I saw the beautiful
city of Cibola."
"And the houses, were they as the Indians told you?"
"Yes, my lord; they were built of stone four stories high, and
glistened in the bright sunshine. The people were fair and dressed in
white. Greatly was I tempted to risk my life and go down to them,
but I contented myself with planting a cross and hurrying here to tell
you what I had done."
"That was right, Fray Marcos," said the Viceroy, "and now it is time
to send an army."
The first person the Viceroy thought of to lead the soldiers was a
brave nobleman, named Coronado, who sat by his side. He had been
listening eagerly to all that Fray Marcos had to tell. Turning to him
the Viceroy said:
"It is my wish that you should command my forces and conquer this
Kingdom of Cibola. I desire you to make ready at once."
"Fray Marcos simply confirms what Guzman and De Vaca have
already told us," replied Coronado, "and I accept your commission
with one proviso."
"And what may that be?" asked the Viceroy, with a smile.
"That you allow me to bear the expenses of the entire expedition."
"Very well, and when you find Cibola I will make you its governor
and give you all the treasures you find except what justly belongs to
the King of Spain, and his representatives and soldiers taking part in
the enterprise."
So great was the excitement over Fray Marcos' story of the new El
Dorado, that Coronado scarcely knew what to do with the volunteers
of all classes who came flocking into camp determined to go with
him. He not only spent all his own money, but borrowed all he could
get and provided for every one in splendid style. They marched out
in glittering armor, on prancing horses with lances gleaming in the
sunshine and banners flying gayly. They were all in high spirits
because they expected to return in a short time loaded with gold
and jewels.
But it was very different when they reached the desert and
mountains, for they did not know how to bear the fatigue of such a
journey, nor how to care for their horses, cattle and sheep. The
animals died rapidly, and the soldiers got into many fights with the
Indians who resented being robbed and badly treated. On they went
through what we now call Arizona, over almost the same road that
Fray Marcos had traveled, and found, instead of the fine, glittering
city they expected, only a few houses of one of the Zuni Indian
villages.
The hearts of the Spaniards sunk as they gazed upon it. Calling
some of the men, Coronado said:
"Go in to the people of the city, and say that we come to defend and
join with them in friendship."
They went and delivered Coronado's greeting, but were received
with scorn.
"We did not ask you to come, and your chief had no right to send
you. This is our land, and we can defend it. If you attempt to stay
here we will kill every one of you." Even as the soldiers, carrying the
message, turned to go away the people of Cibola began firing
arrows at them. Coronado quickly gave the command to attack,
which the Indians answered by a shower of arrows and stones which
they sent down from their high-walled houses. They seemed bent
upon killing Coronado; twice they felled him to the ground, but he
recovered and led the charge with an arrow sticking through his
foot.
"Santiago! and at them!" he shouted, as he rode forward in the last
assault.
"Santiago," echoed his soldiers, close at his heels. When the Indians
saw the horses coming at full speed into their village, they threw
down their bows and arrows, and fled in every direction.
Then the Spaniards almost cried with anger and disappointment.
The houses were really made of stone, but there were no jewels, no
gold, no treasures of any kind—nothing, in fact, but a poor,
miserable Indian pueblo, or village, built upon a high ledge of rocks,
miles away from the fields of corn, beans and squashes, upon which
they lived. All the Indians in that part of the United States built their
houses in pueblos, or villages, but not one of them had any
treasures. They irrigated the dry, sandy soil and tilled their fields,
and were a simple, kindly people, until the greedy Spanish soldiers
drove them into rebellion which has left their country bare and
desolate, even to this day.

"FRAY MARCOS"
 The Kingdom of Quivera
T HE air was full of the chill and blast of winter, and
with the first snow-flakes great discontent broke
out in camp, and Coronado realized that he must
find a place to make his men more comfortable.
"There are ten big community houses on top of that spider-shaped
rock," he said, one morning to a squad of soldiers who had been
drilling on parade ground, "and I want possession of it for the
troops. Some one must go ahead first and report the situation."
"The rock is so high that our bullets scarcely reach to the top," said
the scout, who had galloped over to the pueblo to spy out a way of
doing what Coronado commanded. "But there are four winding paths
leading up the sides, and we can ascend in single file."
"Have you tried it?" asked Coronado.
"Yes, and found it quite an easy task. I spent last night there, and as
the rays of the sun took leave of the lofty Sierras, I felt forsaken,
and as if I were about to float away into the darkness."
"Did the Indians suspect your purpose in coming?"
"Certainly not, and all my gloomy feelings passed away as soon as
the fires began to blaze on the roofs at different heights of the same
building. Inside the houses laughing voices greeted me, and I was
glad to be the guest of such simple people."
"Do you think we would be safe from attacks and surprises at
night?"
"Perfectly. And when once up there it would be almost impossible to
come down at night. The narrow paths are really unsafe except in
daylight."
It was not long until the Spaniards had forcible possession of the
village, and during the long, dreary winter months they went about
in rusty helmets, battered cuirasses, ragged doublets and worn-out
boots, while the Indians wrapped themselves in thick coverings
made of rabbit skins. Every morning the bell called them to mass,
and then the criers went up and down announcing the day's duty to
every one in the camp. On the plains below was heard the neighing
of horses, the lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep.
In the pueblos near by the Indians danced, and gathered around the
fires to listen to the old men's stories of their past, and as the winter
drew to a close the Spaniards were no longer homesick and
despondent, but ready and willing to test the truth of some of the
things the Indians had told them of the Wrathy Chieftain and the
Kingdom of Quivera.
At Pecos the scouts were received with music and presents of cotton
cloth and handfuls of turquoises, because the inhabitants were not
sure but that the white men came from the sun, and were sent by
the Golden Hearted, whom they revered and honored as the Wrathy
Chieftain.
In this village they met a strange-looking Indian.
We will name this fellow the "Turk," because he looks so like one,
and find out, if we can, where he lives. "May be his people have
gold," said the soldiers, as soon as they arrived at Pecos.
"My home is very far to the east," said the Turk, when questioned,
"and we have plenty of gold."
"What is the name of your country!"
"Quivera, and my king's name is Tatarax. He wears a long beard,
and worships a golden cross and an image of the Queen of Heaven."
Had the Spaniards been at all cautious and shrewd they would have
taken pains to find out how true this statement was, but they were
so tired of being in camp, that they were glad of an opportunity to
go on another expedition in search of an El Dorado, which they
always hoped to find.
"The chiefs of the Pecos have taken a gold arm band of mine," said
the Turk, wishing to make trouble between them and the Spaniards.
"No matter what I say to them, they will not give it back to me."
He described the band as being so wide and heavy that Coronado
was induced to seize the chiefs and carry them off to another pueblo
in the hope of compelling the Pecos Indians to pay a big ransom for
them. In addition the Spaniards demanded cotton clothes and
provisions for their journey. The Indians refused, and fought two
weeks before Coronado became satisfied that the Turk never had
such a thing as an arm band, and that there was no gold in the
village.
"It is no use to waste time looking for treasures in this part of the
world," he finally told his men, and they immediately began to
question the Turk.
"I know a country," he declared, "where there is a very wide river
that has fish in it as big as a horse. The people tip their canoes with
gold, and sometimes there are forty rowers in a boat. Every vessel
they use is made of gold and silver."
All the time he was talking he watched the faces of the soldiers with
keen craftiness, and when he saw how delighted they were, he
made the story just as big as he could.
"There are plenty of such places," he said, with a toss of his head,
"but my country of Quivera is the most important of them all, and I
will take you there first."
When any one gets lost on the plains where there are no hills or
trees to mark the way, they wander around in a circle, and finally get
into a perfect frenzy by coming back to the same place over and
over again.
This was what happened to the Spaniards under Coronado. They
returned in a wide bend to Pecos, after marching for months on the
desolate plains.
"Led around in a circle," he said, "as if by some evil spirit.
Everywhere we went we found ourselves surrounded by herds of
misshapen, crinkly-wooled cows. Some of them had calves, and the
bulls had beards of sunburnt hair. Our horses took fright and ran
away, while some of them plunged and threw their riders over their
heads."
"Were these woolly cows ferocious?" asked the good padre, who had
remained at Pecos to teach the Indians, and had never seen a
buffalo.
"They are very terrible when they stampede. If they catch sight of a
white man, they lower their heads and with a quick, short bellow set
off at full tilt in a heavy, rolling gallop. On they come, like a mad
rush of waters, tails high in the air and their big eyes gleaming with
fright. We had much ado to keep out of their way, for they would
run over and trample all to death."
"No wonder your horses ran away," said the padre. "It was quite
enough to frighten anything."
"Finally we met some of the people who go around the country with
the cows. They make tents of the hides and wear them for blankets,
and keep huge dogs to carry their food and baggage. They were
friendly to us, but knew nothing of Quivera and its treasures."
But the feeling of helplessness and desolation of the plains gradually
left the Spaniards, and then they were ready to follow the Turk's
lead again. This time they got lost in the desert, and many of them
wandered off and died from thirst, and their bodies were eaten by
wolves and coyotes. They kept going round and round in a circle
until their tongues hung out of their mouths and they were delirious.
In the hot, quivering air they imagined they saw cities, and lakes
and springs of water, and they laughed and cried, and sung and
danced in a raging fever. At last they began to suspect the Turk.
"He is purposely leading us astray," they said. "He is trying to lose us
on these desolate plains where we will starve to death. He intends to
desert and leave us here."
They put the Turk in chains, and then he confessed that he had
never seen the big stone houses he said were in Quivera, but stoutly
insisted that the country was rich in gold and silver.
The Prairie Indians begged Coronado to turn back.
"The land of Quivera is forty days' journey toward the north," they
said, "and you will suffer from hunger long before you reach other
tribes."
But Coronado had spent all his money and was in debt deeply, so he
determined to take twenty-nine picked horsemen and go forward.
Leaving the rest of the company to find their way back to Pecos, he
engaged some new guides among the Prairie Indians and pushed on
determined to find Quivera. They rode directly north until they came
to a place in Kansas near where the city of Leavenworth is now
located.
In the meantime the Pecos Indians went on the warpath and refused
to receive or aid the Spaniards who left Coronado and went back to
them. He found them encamped before the pueblo when he
returned months after, weary, empty-handed, and disappointed.
"I have found Quivera and explored it well," he said, "but it has no
permanent settlement, and no gold and silver. I was expecting to
see houses several stories high, made of stone. Instead of that they
are simple huts and the inhabitants are perfectly savage."
The Turk tried to secure his freedom by saying that the Pecos
Indians had hired him to lose the Spaniards on the plains, but no
one paid any attention to him. In revenge he said to the people of
Quivera:
"Do not let one of these white men escape alive. They will bring
others of their kind and rob you of all your possessions and ill treat
your women and children. They have already killed many of the
Pecos."
Some one told Coronado what was being said, and he ordered his
soldiers to take the Turk out and hang him to the first tree they
found, which they did.
Coronado spoke the truth about Quivera, but even the men who
went with him believed that there was a land near by where they
would find great riches, and they kept repeating all the stories about
El Dorado until Coronado was obliged to promise them that he would
make another effort to find it.
"If we go north again we can be certain of good food for the soil is
the best that can be found for all kinds of crops. In Quivera we were
given plums, nuts, very fine grapes, mulberries and flax. I really
believe we shall make some important discoveries very soon."
One day at Pecos after he had made friends with the Indians, he
was tilting with an officer in his command when his saddle girth
broke while his horse was running at full speed. He fell on his head
and was run over and so badly hurt that for days it was thought he
would die. Before he got well news came from Mexico that the
Indians behind him were on the warpath, and then he knew he must
retreat as quickly as possible. So instead of going in quest of the
roving band of Quivera Indians, he was obliged to return to the city
of Mexico. Here the Viceroy received him coldly and upbraided him,
saying:
"It is a source of keen disappointment and regret to me,
that you, my trusted friend and favorite officer, should
abandon the rich treasures of the north. I wish you to go
to your estate and live in retirement for the remaining
 years of your life. I will try to find some one more worthy
of my confidence for future work."
Reduced to poverty, with many debts unpaid, and disgraced by the
Viceroy, the poor unfortunate nobleman lived only a few years on his
estate in Mexico and died heartbroken over his failures.
Everybody in Mexico believed that he was mistaken, and several
other expeditions set out to find the Kingdom of Quivera. More than
a century afterward the legend settled around one of the missions
founded by the padres, and for years people thought this was the
Grand Quivera. Great treasures were supposed to be buried there by
the missionaries when the insurrection of 1680 came. That year all
the Indians in the region of Arizona and New Mexico organized a
general uprising and they not only killed all the whites they could
find but sacked and burned the missions. And that is the last ever
heard of the one known as the Grand Quivera. No treasures were
ever found in or near its ruins. There are ten curious maps of that
time and each one locates the kingdom of Quivera in a different
place. One of them brings it as far north as the Sacramento Valley in
California.
Really Quivera is a will-o'-the-wisp, and from a roving band of
Indians, has become a wandering treasure city, and a land of vague
and mysterious proportions.
"AN OLD COMMUNITY HOUSE"
 The Land of Gold
I F any of the boys and girls born in the United
States were asked "Where is the land of gold?"
they would answer "It is California," and if any of
the children born in California were asked "What is
El Dorado?" they would say "Why, that means the
land of gold."
So it does and for two reasons.
Cortez named it California after the heroine of a romance of chivalry
he had read when he was in Spain. The book said there was an
island on the right hand of the Indies very near the terrestrial
Paradise, peopled with black women, who were Amazons, and wore
gold ornaments in great profusion. Down in his heart Cortez
cherished the hope that he might find the northwest passage to
India, not because he cared very much for science, but because he
believed the most extravagant stories about the silks, spices, sweet-
smelling gums and rare gems to be found there. His ill-gotten
Mexican gold did him very little good, and was soon all expended,
and he was anxious to find some other country to conquer. The very
next year after the death of Montezuma, Cortez heard of the Land of
Gold, and came over to a cove on the Pacific Coast of Mexico where
he laid out a town and built some ships for the purpose of finding
the new wonderland. All he ever discovered was the peninsula of
Lower California, where the Indians already knew about the pearl
fisheries. This was what he thought was an island, and what he
named California.
One of his officers sailed around the island of St. Thomas, and on a
Sunday morning he said he saw a merman swimming close to his
ship.
"It came alongside the vessel," he declared, "and raised its head and
looked at us two or three times. It was as full of antics as a monkey.
Sometimes it would dive, and then raise up out of the water and
wash its face with its hands. Finally a sea bird drove it away."
Of course he was mistaken, for what he really did see was either a
walrus or a big seal as both animals abound in the Pacific Ocean.
It was more than three hundred years after Cabrillo sailed into the
Gate of Palms at the entrance to the bay of San Diego, before gold
was discovered in California. The country had been settled by
Spanish Cavaliers and padres and there were missions for the
teaching of the Indians. Mexico had rebelled against the King of
Spain and the United States had made war on Mexico and won.
Then a man by the name of Marshall found some free gold. It was in
the sand at the bottom of a ditch he was digging to get water to run
a sawmill he was building. He knew at once that the bright yellow
pebbles he held in his hands were gold, so he hurried to the men at
work on the watershed and said:
"I have found it!" and that is what the motto, Eureka! on the state
shield of California really means.
"What is it you have found, Mr. Marshall?" asked the men.
"Gold!" he exclaimed, excitedly. The men threw down their tools and
gathered about him to examine the new find.
"No, no; you are mistaken," they said, when they had turned the
pebbles over, and held them to the light, and hammered them with a
stone.
"I am certain that it is," he stoutly maintained, but they only laughed
at him. He paid no attention to them but turned on the water the
next night. Then he picked up all the yellow lumps he found in the
sand, and putting them into a little bag hastened to the man for
whom he was building the mill, and said:
"I have found gold at the sawmill, and want you to come and see for
yourself."
His employer tested and weighed the shining mass carefully, and
finally said:
"You are right. It is real gold. Go back to the mill, but say nothing
until we get it finished. If you do the men will quit work and we shall
have no one to take their places."

"THE DISCOVERY OF SAN FRANCISCO

BAY"

But the secret was too good to keep, and in a few days the whole
country raised the same sordid cry of "gold, gold, gold," which had
brought the Spaniards to the coast. In less than a year eighty
thousand people came to California looking for gold. From an
independent republic, California became a state and with its
admission into the Union the search for El Dorado passed from
Spanish into American hands. Both the padres and Cavaliers in
California as elsewhere in the Americas enslaved the Indians in a
system of peonage which thinned out their ranks, and led to many
hostile outbreaks before they were finally subdued. The gold seekers
had to do some of the fighting, but they did not rob and pillage the
country, nor were they allowed to be unnecessarily cruel. One of our
great writers has said of the Indian:
"The red man of America has something peculiarly sensitive in his
nature. He shrinks instinctively from the rude touch of a foreign
hand. Like some of the dumb creatures he pines and dies in
captivity. If today we see them with their energies broken we simply
learn from that what a terrible thing is slavery. In their faltering
steps and meek and melancholy aspect we read the sad
characteristics of a conquered race."
His faith in the traditions of his forefathers, the belief that the
Golden Hearted would come again to bring him all that his heart
desired finally enslaved and ruined him.
If we pity the Indian we must also feel sorry for the miserable
ending of all the Spanish leaders who searched for El Dorado.
Columbus spent the last years of his life in prison; Balboa, who
discovered the Pacific Ocean, was treacherously executed and lies in
an unknown grave near Panama; Pizarro was assassinated and
buried in Peru; Magellan was killed by the natives in the Philippine
Islands; Cortez was accused of strangling his wife to death, and
finally deprived of all honors and wealth; Guzman died in poverty
and distress while Coronado was said to be insane after his return to
Mexico. For the crime and violence done by Spain in these
expeditions she has not only lost all the revenues, but no longer
owns a foot of land in any part of the new world.
Let us be thankful that the wisdom and liberty of our own
government has saved us from making such terrible mistakes, and
doing such grievous wrongs in our attempts to find El Dorado. The
brave men and women who crossed the plains long before we had a
railroad were willing to work for the riches they wanted. They did
not come with the idea of robbing anybody, and when they found
the gold they were generous and kind to less fortunate neighbors
and friends.
"In this land of sunshine and flowers," they said, "we find gold in the
crops of the chickens we have for our Sunday dinners, and our
children build doll-houses with the odd-shaped nuggets given to
them by the big-hearted miners."
It is hard to imagine the stirring times that followed. Everybody had
the gold fever, and in crossing the plains they heard the name El
Dorado as soon as they came near where Coronado had been. Some
of them made up a song about it, which was for many years very
popular among the men in the mining camps. This is one verse of it:
We'll rock the cradle around Pike's Peak
In search of the gold dust that we seek,
The Indians ask us why we're here
We tell them we're born as free as the air,
And oh!
Boys ho!
To the mountains we will go
For there is plenty of gold
Out West we are told
In the new El Dorado.

Many of the emigrants sickened and died on the way; others were
killed by the hostile Indians, and all were subjected to a life of
hardship and toil, because they were the builders of a new
commonwealth. Once in California they found many trying situations,
not the least of which was an occasional fight with the huge grizzly
bears that roamed through the forests. Many times the men were
obliged to organize a hunt for the purpose of ridding a district of a
nest of grizzlies. Not only would the bears fight ferociously, but they
did not hesitate to go into a corral and carry off calves, hogs and
sheep under the very eyes of the owner.
"Never for a moment imagine that a grizzly bear will run from you,"
said the leader of a hunting party filling his powder horn and putting
a box of caps into his pocket. "Take good aim at the center of his
forehead. Otherwise one shot will not kill him, and remember that
he cannot climb. If you get into close quarters, try to get up a tree
as fast as you can."
"We know his trail and we are going to send our dogs in to start him
out of his den."
"Unless your dogs know how to attack him it is very unsafe to let
them go near. One blow from a grizzly's paw will kill any dog, and
we cannot afford to lose any of yours," said the leader, doubtfully.
"My dogs know all about bear hunting. They will keep well behind
him, and after we have crippled him, they will snap at his heels and
worry him so he cannot chase the last man who shoots at him."
"Will a grizzly do that?" asked a man who had never been in a bear
hunt before.
"Indeed he will. If you watch closely you can tell how many times he
is hit for he will fall down, roll over and slap himself wherever the
bullet strikes him."
"I would not advise you to waste any time trying to find out who
fired the last shot, for the bear will never make a mistake about it.
He knows, and is always after the last one."
"Separate into pairs," said the leader, when he had finished
examining the bear tracks in the path they were following. "Take
your stations about a hundred yards apart, and when you hear the
grizzly coming, aim as I have already told you, and then look out for
trouble."
"Do you think we are likely to find him soon?" asked the newcomer,
nervously.
"He is in that thicket where the dogs are keeping up such a loud
barking. You will hear him snapping and growling in a few minutes."
"The grass and underbrush are so high I am afraid I will not be able
to see him," said the timid, inexperienced hunter.
"You can tell by the way the dogs bark when he is coming, and you
can easily hear the click of his sharp claws before he gets too near
for comfort," said the leader, with a smile. "Make sure that the
trigger of your gun is properly set, and you will be all right."
He had stationed other men farther up the ravine, and in a few
minutes the dogs yelped warningly, and the man at the upper
station shouted:
"Look out! here he comes!"
"Bang!" went the gun, and then the dogs rushed by in a solid pack
with a huge she bear at their heels.
"There are two of them," somebody said, and in a moment
everything was in the wildest confusion.
"Man alive! don't you see that wounded grizzly rolling in the grass.
He is not badly hurt, but he will be after you in a second. Give him
another dose, and run," said the leader excitedly, to the new hunter
who was standing stock still and gazing around him helplessly. He
did not seem to hear what was said, and before he recovered from
his paralyzing fright, the bear grabbed him.
"Help! help! help! For God's sake come here! I am being killed!" he
screamed.
"Lie perfectly still and pretend you are dead," said the leader. "Make
no sound when I shoot, and crawl behind that big rock as soon as
you get up."
The knowing dogs barked and raged around the bear until he could
not tear the prostrate man. They kept him turning round and round,
and the daring hunter coolly waited until his head was away from
the wounded man's, and then he shot him through the fore leg.
Down he fell and kicked and scratched the fallen hunter, but true to
his instinct got up and gave chase to the leader, with the dogs in full
cry behind him. The wounded man managed to reach the rock, and
by scrambling up on its jagged sides was comparatively safe. From
his height he could see what the other men were doing.
"I am all right," called the leader from a neighboring tree, "but how
is it with you?"
"My powder-horn is crushed and broken and my arm is bitten
through. There is blood running down my face too, but I think that is
only scratches."
"Bang!" went a gun near by, and turning to look both men saw one
of the party standing up in the saddle, on the horse brought along to
carry the game.
"Get out of that thicket! You will be killed if you try to stay there,"
shouted the leader.
"My only chance is to shoot as I stand," answered the man, busy
loading his gun. "I can not make this horse move. But for the
Mexican stiff-bit in his mouth and a vigorous use of my big spurs he
would lie down with me."
"I am coming to help you," said the leader, sliding down the limb of
the tree to the ground. "I will ham-string the grizzly and then you
can finish him."
He was an excellent shot, and soon the bear was dragging his hind
quarters and showing signs of weakness from loss of blood. The
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