them, with their sabres and pennons and guns. Meacham needed something to get the renegade’s attention. But his attention in order to be persuaded to do what? Meacham had nothing new to offer, except this threat. Return the Modocs to the Klamath Agency? Not likely! To where then?
When he explained the Modoc situation, Canby was quick to understand, and he cut to the heart of the problem:
“You have a logistical problem,” he said simply. “You have two sites and three entities to occupy them: You have the agency and this Yainax development. Then you have Klamaths and Snakes and Modocs.”
“And one chief who insists on changing that balance. This Captain Jack wants his own reservation.”
“Well, that would make sense. Then you would have three and three. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, as far as I’m concerned. Except that the land he wants has already begun being settled. Were it not for that, this might be worked out. That would remove the need for you to force them.”
“Assuming I’m ready to do that.”
“Oh, but you will be. When the settlers have finished their demands.”
“Well, I’m a pretty obdurate fellow. But, I must tell you, I have nothing much to move them with at the moment. Crook took half the forces with him to Arizona to chase Apaches. As we speak, Fort Klamath has only about seventy men. No one’s going to do much with them! We’re not about to coerce anybody.”
“But if it becomes absolutely necessary to move the Indians, you must do it gently.”
“That is your counsel as a ‘Christian gentleman’?”
“No. I’m afraid being a Christian gentleman has nothing to do with it. The place is ready to blow sky high -- that is, if you believe the reports of some of the settlers. They say you can hear it; you can feel it. Strike a match, they tell me, and the whole area will burn to the ground. It’s their favorite refrain.”
“Then, on the off chance they are right, we must be careful. I’ve already told you: I’m good at that. And what do you say, Mr. Meacham?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “For the moment, I’m buffaloed just thinking about it. But sooner or later, I’ll work it out.”
The two men sat silently as the light faded. The pipe lay cold on the desk before Canby. Meacham wondered whether they both envisioned the same thing. It didn’t sound as if he and Canby would have to be at odds with one another. He didn’t seem overwhelmed by the problem. It wasn’t clear yet what he would do -- or could do with the meager forces remaining to him. But he seemed willing to listen, willing to go over things. Maybe this man of such wide experience was a godsend. A little concerted effort was what they needed here. A little working together.
#62
Meacham was impressed by the list of particulars. If you believed Jesse Applegate’s accusations about Knapp, the agent had been busy: drunkenness, neglect of duty, incompetence, cohabiting, general libidinous conduct. And even laudanum: there was that charge, too. It was only October of ‘70, less than a year since he had met Knapp, but the appointment was over. The press of Ashland and Jacksonville had been liberally planted with rumors about the captain. The Applegates had not gone quietly from the reservation. Meacham reckoned that he wouldn’t relish having Jesse’s pen thrust in his direction any more than the agent had.
Knapp, for his part, hadn’t been reticent. He had written Ely Parker that spring:
I made a bitter enemy of the old agent by relieving him, and it is through his influence that these reports have emanated. If I had taken the advice of the officers at Fort Klamath and other persons on this Reservation, I would have discharged all the old agent’s relations, five in all, and would have saved myself trouble. I now see my error in retaining them. I have shown great leniency in not reporting him for not transferring the funds and records promptly…. I have discharged two of his sons and would the third, but he is not under my orders.
Knapp’s complaints extended to Meacham. They boiled down to charges of collusion. Knapp appealed for justice to the Secretary for Indian Affairs, but the most Meacham would say in his own behalf against his agent when queried was that Knapp was young, a soldier, without experience in Indian matters. He was morally unfit to lead a people who were eager to learn and thirsty for knowledge of ‘White Man’s laws.’
No matter the truth or falsity of the accusations, it hadn’t helped Knapp, Meacham knew, that he was rumored to be of the Copperhead persuasion. Lower-class; Irish extraction; maybe still anti-abolitionist at heart. Even could be a member of the secret society that had spawned John Willkes Booth.When he had been informed of Knapp’s going, Meacham had moved as quickly as he could, before someone in the East could produce a new disaster.
“Urgent: Allow me to select agent. I need someone I can trust.”
And the second miracle had occurred. They let him.
He wired his brother: “Leave everything. Must have your support immediately as agent at Klamath Agency. Wire back when you will meet me there.”
For the present, Ivan could handle Yainax and the Snakes. Then someday, if all proceeded as he now envisioned it, Ivan could also handle the Modocs.
#63
Yreka Journal, March 26, 1871.
Reports have it that the influenza that laid low the city all during the past winter season has surfaced now in the mining camps. Not content to have decimated the ranks of Yreka’s finest just at the moment of the New Year’s balls, it has moved on now to more modest quarters. The miners out in the camps are said to be suffering what are by now all-too-familiar complaints. We are told, however, that they are content to weather their storm by staying inside and keeping warm, awaiting a more salubrious time. A group of volunteers has been organized to carry provisions out to them, whenever the weather permits it. Those of us in this city who preceded the miners in their agues can send our sympathies -- and cans of beans -- via those wagon drivers.
Elsewhere, it is observed that this will be an early Spring. Already the snows have receded, and the bulbs in our gardens are putting up their first greetings. The mercantile association wants all citizens to know that soon every implement for home planting and goods the ladies will be wanting for Easter will be on the shelves.
#64
As soon as the girl dropped down onto her pallet, the women were on her, screaming and pulling her back onto her feet. Shaking free of them, she cried out and ran off through the brush into the dark. As she plunged into the night, their voices mingled with the hot sounds in her head. There was the anger at her that she did not listen to them, that she did not care for what they said. She could hear their anger, but it could no longer reach inside her to make her feel shame. All she wanted was sleep.
But
