rapid progress of the beast which at length reached a wooded ravine near
the home of "Squire" Miller, that led up the mountain, where a mile
above an old Indian was camped. The bear evidently came upon him
unawares, but whether he was asleep or was getting water from the small
stream, was never known, for, with one sweep of his mighty paw, the
grizzly completely disemboweled the Indian, strewing his entrails
fifteen feet on the ground. Half a mile above the body of the Indian the
fatal shot, among many, was delivered and the chase was over.

As the neighbors gathered triumphantly around the dead body of the
monarch of the Oregon forest I saw for the first time sitting on a
horse, a boy destined to make a name in the world of letters, C. H. or
"Joaquin" Miller. I remember him as a slender, light haired boy, several
years my senior. During subsequent years it was given me to see much of
this boy, at school, in the mines and later as an apprentice in the
Eugene City Herald, a newspaper of which he was the editor.



Chapter III.

The Indian Outbreak of 1855.

The years of 1853-4 were years of comparative peace, free from actual
Indian wars, and afforded the pioneers an opportunity of improving their
farms, building up more comfortable homes and surrounding their families
with some comforts and conveniences of civilization. Yet even these
years were not free from alarms and stampedes. Time and again swift
riders spread the news that the redskins had dug up the tomahawk and had
gone on the war path. These scares arose from isolated murders by the