Tulare County, California History Transcribed by Sally Kaleta This file is part of the California Genealogy & History Archives http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~cagha/index.htm These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by other organizations. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material for non-commercial purposes, MUST obtain the written consent of the contributor, OR the legal representative of the submitter. All persons donating to this site retain the rights to their own work. History of Tulare and Kings Counties, California - History by Eugene L. Menefee and Fred A. Dodge - Historic Record Company - Los Angeles, California, 1913 CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY TO HISTORY OF TULARE COUNTY By Eugene L. Menefee. A preacher and a teacher, it appears, curiously enough were the two first white leaders to enter what is now Tulare county. Each bore the name of Smith. Jedediah S. Smith, the preacher, arrived in 1825 or '26, accompanied by about fifteen trappers, he being the first white man to cross the Sierra Nevada mountains. Entry to the valley was made via the Tejon pass. Thousands of naked Indians were seen. Tulare lake was observed and successful trapping for beaver was conducted along the upper reaches of the Kings, San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers. In 1827 Smith made a return trip, entering through Walker's pass. It should be understood that Jed was not an ordained minister, but being a strong and aggressive Christian, he endeavored to convert to that faith the reckless and lawless men who joined his band. Bible readings, prayers, exhortations mingled with reproofs were features of each day, no matter how wearisome had been the march. It is said, however, that his efforts at reform were not entirely successful. "Pegleg" Smith, the teacher, visited our vicinity in 1830, and was eminently successful. "Pegleg" did not hold a degree nor even a certificate. He was a horse-thief by profession and he took up quarters among the Indians, establishing friendly relations with them and thus obtained a place of refuge and a rendezvous for the round-up of stolen stock when ready to proceed on the return journey to the Santa Fe country. In return for the hospitality extended him, Mr. Smith allowed some of the Indians to accompany him on raids to the ranchos of the coast and taught them all the elements of appropriation. Due, no doubt, to Mr. Smith's ability as an educator, these lessons were not forgotten and the practices inculcated by him, were so persistently followed that in the course of time the Indians gained the merited title of "the horse-thieves of the Tulare." One of Pegleg's party met a tragic fate. Missed from camp on Kern river, near the site of the present Keyesville, he was found dead alongside the carcass of a huge grizzly, his body mutilated and his head crushed. There had evidently been a deadly fight in which both contestants had succumbed. The rude wooden cross which marked his lonely grave still stood in 1856, when the Kern river gold rush took place. Closely following Jedediah Smith came Ewing Young and party, who started trapping in the San Joaquin valley in 1831, finding beaver, plentiful. Young hunted in the vicinity of Tulare lake for a short time and then took his way northward. During the next decade several other groups of trappers passed through the San Joaquin valley. Between the Tulare valley and the Calaveras river there was at that time an estimated Indian population of 20,000. For any accurate knowledge of the county as it existed then we must await the coming, in 1846, of John C. Fremont, an account of which will be given in a later chapter. History�human history--began to be recorded in what is now Tulare county at a time long prior to the events just related. So remote is this date that we of the present day can scarcely hazard even a guess as to the number of centuries that have elapsed since this civilization flourished. Probably it existed co-eval with that of the mound builders of the Mississippi�with that of the cliff dwellers of Arizona. It is probable that at that time the waters of the Pacific filled the valley of the San Joaquin so that the area of our county was once smaller than it is now. These surmises are based on the fact that in numerous places throughout the Sierra Nevada mountains are found picture writings of the origin of which our latter day Indians have not even a tradition. They cannot interpret them, nor do they possess any knowledge of the art of making the indestructible paints used. On a bluff near the railroad bridge across the Kaweah at Lemon Cove, at Rocky Hill, near Exeter, in Stokes valley, at Woodlake, at Dillon's point, at Hospital Rock on the middle fork of the Kaweah, some thirteen miles above Three Rivers and in many other places these pictures are found. In several instances the arrangement of the figures is in columns. This would seem to indicate that they are tribal or genealogical records. Swords and spears, weapons absolutely unknown to present-day Indians, are among the objects represented. Others are bears, birds, pine trees, man, the sun, a fire, circles, crosses, etc. Up to the present time no key has been found to these hieroglyphics. A facsimile of the paintings on Hospital Rock has been sent to the Smithsonian Institution at Washington, but as yet the learned men there have been unable to decipher the record. As the fund of knowledge regarding the sign-writing of all tribes throughout the world is constantly increasing, as they are studied and compared and grouped in systems, and certain meanings definitely established, it is not improbable that at some future time the first chapters of Tulare county's history may yet be translated into English. Even so, then would elapse a period of thousands of years without a line. No tradition existed here among the Indians as to any migration or separation from another tribe. They believed themselves to be aborigines. Yet there were trails known to them by which the Sierras could be crossed. No reports from the passing bands of trappers hastened the coming of settlers. With them a country was good or bad according as many valuable pelts could or could not be there obtained, and no note was taken of its adaptability for agriculture. Neither was it by the accounts set forth by Fremont, which were meager and of a scientific nature. The fact was that in the '49 rush to the gold fields of California many trains came by the southern route and passed through the Four Creeks country, as this section was then called. Out of a desert they came, and pursuing their way northward, back into what was then almost a desert they went. We can well imagine their delight at the sight of the vast, oak-forested delta covered with knee-high grasses. We can imagine, too, their chafing at the delay here occasioned by the necessity of getting their animals in condition to proceed farther. All were keenly anxious to reach the foot of the rainbow. And when, after toil and trouble, hardship, misfortune and ill-luck, they failed to find it, we can imagine them as keenly anxious to return to the delightful land they had left. The first to really settle there was a trader named Woods, who with a party of about fifteen men arrived in December of 1850. This party came from Mariposa and was well equipped with saddle and pack animals, arms, implements of building, etc. They located on the south bank of the Kaweah river, about seven miles east of Visalia, where they built a substantial log house. Of the fate of this party accounts vary somewhat. The accepted version is that in the spring of '51, an Indian bearing the name of Francisco, speaking some Spanish, and probably one of the renegades from the ranchos of the coast, with a number of Kaweahs, of whom he appeared to be chief, ordered the settlers to leave that section of the country within ten days, with the alternative of death if they remained beyond the allotted time. The settlers agreed to go and made preparations for their departure, burying the provisions and such farming implements as they possessed and proceeded to gather their stock. While thus engaged the tenth day passed, and the Indians returned to fulfill their threat. Ten of the settlers were killed while hunting their stock, two made their escape, one of whom was wounded. The savages then approached the house in which was Woods and another. They professed friendship, and thus removed the apprehensions Of their victims, who were unconscious of the fate of their fellows. One of the whites was asked to hold up a target that the Indians might exhibit their skill with the bow and arrow; he complied, whereupon the treacherous Kaweahs turned their aim upon him and quickly shot him to death. Woods fled to the cabin and fastened the door. This the savages attacked with great fury, but it was strong and resisted their assaults. Woods had a single rifle and a short supply of ammunition, and with this he attempted to defend himself. Of all this we have the reports of Indians only, as from the time the two escaped none other was left to tell the story of the treachery and the tragedy. The entrapped man determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. As opportunity offered he fired through the apertures of the logs and with deadly effect, as during the contest seven of the Indians were killed. At last the scanty ammunition was exhausted, and the despairing condition of the helplessness overcame the brave Woods. The assailants, finding their prisoner no longer able to do them harm, renewed their efforts on the door, until it at last gave way and the enemy was in their power. Woods had made a brave defense, had slayed and wounded many of their number and a revenge in consonance with the Indian spirit was determined upon. This was nothing less than flaying him alive. The doomed man was bound down and while defying his torturers, his skin was taken from his body and afterwards nailed to an oak tree. According to Stephen Barton the cause of the outbreak as given by the Indians was that Indians from the north sought the aid of the Kaweahs as allies, representing that the whites were seizing their country and driving them out. When the tribes of this valley declined to assist the visitors, these made war upon them and captured many of their women. The majority of them fled to the hills, the few remaining slaughtering the Woods party. Other accounts are that from seven hundred to one thousand Indians took part in the butchery. A party headed by a man named Lane arrived within a day or so after the massacre and rescued a wounded man, whose name was Boden, and carried him back with them to Mariposa, where he recovered. To C. R. Wingfield, Boden gave a detailed account of the fight at the Woods cabin. A report of the massacre was taken to Fort Miller, on the San Joaquin river, and a detachment of troops in command of General Patten marched to the scene. The log house stood intact and evidence of the brave defense, the massacre and the butchery remained. What was left of the bodies was buried and work was commenced on the construction of a fort about half a mile from the Woods cabin, but before its completion the troops were withdrawn. The above story is essentially as given by Stephen Barton in his early history of Tulare county, his data being obtained from several of the first settlers. In the issue of the Visalia Sun dated September 5, 1860, Abraham Hilliard, who arrived in the spring of '54 and lived for three months in the Woods cabin, gives practically the same version, placing the date of the massacre, however, as December 13, 1850. Gilbert M. L. Dean, who arrived in the Four Creeks country when a lad about twelve years of age, states that his father's family came from Texas in a party conducted by Nat Vise. Both the Vise and Dean families remained for a time at Los Angeles, and Vise, taking young Dean with him, left for the northern country, traveling on horseback, and with a pack outfit. They remained a few days near the Kaweah. Vise decided to push onward to the mines and left the Dean boy with Loomis St. John (for whom the St. John river was afterwards named), who then had a cabin near the river, about a half mile from that afterwards constructed by the Woods party. Thus the general belief that the latter structure was the first permanent habitation erected by white men within the present limits of Tulare county is disputed by Dean, who was living in St. John's cabin when the Woods party arrived to establish their settlement. St. John and his young companion, who were glad to have neighbors of their own race, went over one day where they had before seen Woods and his men felling trees and building their house. They were surprised to hear no wood-chopping or other noise when they approached, and when near the cabin, which was almost completed, they were horrified to see the body of a man lying on the ground. The skin had been removed and was fastened to the bark of a large oak tree hard by on the bank of the stream. They were unable to find any other member of the party, alive or dead, and saw no Indians. Soldiers and others arrived within a day or two, among them being some of the men who had been with Woods. They stated that Woods had gone to the cabin to prepare dinner or had remained there after breakfast and was attacked by the Indians when alone at the cabin. The others heard the firing of Woods' gun and the shouting of the Indians, and being unarmed or poorly armed and unable to reach the cabin to assist Woods, they hid their axes and mauls and saved themselves by flight. Dean says he never heard of any other person than Woods having been killed at that time, but does not remember to have heard whether any of the survivors were wounded or molested by the Indians.. The Woods cabin was used for a schoolhouse afterwards, and Dean and his brother attended school there later, when, after his return to Los Angeles, the Dean family came to the Kaweah settlement to reside permanently. Dean was therefore at this place as a pupil in the first school in Tulare county and he still has a vivid recollection of the locality. When visiting the place, with others, a few years ago he at once recognized the tree on which Woods' skin was hung by the Indians and pointed out the location of the house and about the spot where Woods' body lay, and an involuntary shudder was noticed to pass through the old gentleman's frame as he stood there. Although the oldest resident of Tulare county, the pioneer of Tulare pioneers, he is still vigorous, retains all his faculties perfectly and remembers distinctly the principal events of that early time, many of which he participated in. Apparently unterrified by the fate of the Woods party, settlers and traders continued to straggle in. In the fall of 1851, C. R. Wingfield and A. A. Wingfield arrived from Mariposa. On the way they met two men named McKenzie and Ridley, who had been trading with the Indians for several years and who were somewhere in the neighborhood when the Woods party was slain. A bridge had been built across the Kaweah near the Woods cabin, but there was no settlement. The Wingfields settled near the cabin, laying claim to the land from the river southward. They found the Indians friendly and sociable, and although their outfit was within the reach of hundreds of this people and contained a multiplicity of small articles, yet they never missed so much as a needle. In December of the same year, Nathaniel and Abner Vise came to what is now Visalia and built a log cabin on the north bank of Mill creek. On the site of the camps of these two pairs of brothers were afterwards built the two towns that contended for the honor of being the seat of justice of Tulare county. These two pairs of brothers, between whose camps were seven miles of almost unbroken jungle, appear to have been the only settlers in the country with a fixed domicile. They were unknown to each other and ignorant of the other's whereabouts. The state legislature was in session. Many first-class politicians at Mariposa were either out of a job or possessed of one the emoluments of which were not satisfactory. These events and conditions would not have interested either the brothers Vise or the Wingfields. Yet so interwoven are the strands of destiny that life or death to the Wingfields was later to depend on the activity of the Mariposa schemers and their "pull" with the legislators. It was at the behest of this horde of hungry office-seekers that the legislature passed an act and the same was approved April 20, 1852, as follows : "The county of Mariposa is hereby subdivided as follows: Beginning at the summit of the coast range, at the corner of Monterey and San Luis Obispo counties; thence running in a northeasterly direction to the ridge dividing the waters of the San Joaquin and Kings rivers; thence along the ridge to the summit of the Sierra; thence in the same direction to the state line; thence southeasterly along said line to the county of Los Angeles; thence southwesterly along the line of Los Angeles county to Santa Barbara; thence along the summit of the coast range to the point of beginning. "The southern portion of Mariposa county so cut off, shall be called Tulare county. The seat of justice shall be at the log cabin on the south side of Kaweah creek, near the bridge built by Dr. Thomas Payne, and shall be called Woodsville, until changed by the people as provided by law. "During the second week of July next there shall be chosen for Tulare county one county judge, one county attorney, one county clerk, one recorder, one sheriff, one county surveyor, one assessor, one coroner and one treasurer. "The county judge chosen under this act shall hold his office for two years from next October, and until his successor is elected and qualified. The other officers elected shall hold their respective offices for one year, and until their successors are elected and qualified. The successors of the officers elected under this act shall be chosen at the general elections established by law, which take place next preceding the expiration of their respective terms." James D. Savage, M. B. Lewis, John Boling and W. H. McMillen were appointed commissioners to carry out the law and conduct. the election. The prime mover in this scheme to form a new county was William H. Harvey. He and his associates knew of the massacre of the Woods party and, fully expecting to have to fight their way to the Four Creeks, placed the expedition under the command of Major James D. Savage. Orlando Barton says : "Major Savage's party as it left Mariposa was composed mostly of men on horseback. Many men with families prepared to follow with teams. The first general rendezvous was on Grand Island. A settlement was already forming on Kings river. I have heard it stated that the office-seekers from Mariposa hired enough Whigs to come with them to outvote the Democrats on Arkansas Flat. On Grand Island, July 8th, the commissioners held their first meeting. They ordered an election to be held on July 10, 1852, and appointed William J. Campbell to act as the inspector at Poole's Ferry and William Dill to act as inspector at Woodsville. These were the only precincts established. All the wagons with the women and children stayed on Grand Island, while Major Savage marshaled the fighting men for the advance on Four Creeks. "Including the board of commissioners they were fifty-two strong and on the morning of July 9th they started from Poole's Ferry to cross the plains. It lacked about an hour and a half of sundown when they arrived in the outskirts of the timber at the foot of Venice hills. Here they saw hostile Indians. Major Savage's party rode along the southwest side of the Venice hills, firing right and left at every Indian they saw. RESCUE OF THE WINGFIELDS "On the morning of July 8, 1852, three hundred armed Indians came to the Wingfield brothers' camp and took them and an Indian boy who was with them prisoners, and marched them across the Kaweah and St. John rivers. Near the north bank of the St. John, the Indians tied the Wingfield brothers and their companion hand and foot and laid them on the ground. The Wingfields were kept in this place all one day and the succeeding night. The 9th of July was hot and sultry. The Indians were morose and sulky. They stayed at a distance from the Wingfields and talked only to themselves. Neither the Wingfields nor their companion could understand the cause of their imprisonment. They knew nothing of the advance of Major Savage's party. They did not know that their captors constituted one of the forces sent to hold the fords of the St. John against the men from Mariposa. "If I were a novelist I would now tell what the Wingfield brothers thought at this crisis in their lives. I would tell how they were tormented by swarms of flies, armies of ants, and cold lizards with poisonous fangs. But as I am only an historian I can tell only what I know. Charley Wingfield said that he did not know what was to become of them. The fate of Woods was fresh in their minds and we may reasonably be permitted to guess that they expected to be skinned. "The sun was about an hour high in the west when an Indian came running around the southernmost of the Venice hills holding one of his arms straight up in the air. His arm, which was covered with blood, was shot through with a bullet. Some of the Indians who were guarding the Wingfields ran forward to meet him. A short palaver was held. Then three or four of them went to the place where the Wingfields were tied down. They untied them and then all the Indians suddenly disappeared. "The Wingfields went to the river and after swimming it, were climbing up on its south bank, when they saw Major Savage's party coming around the point of the hill from the direction of Mount View Park. The Wingfields recrossed the river and joined the party. THE ELECTION "As soon as Major Savage's party arrived, the commissioners commenced to prepare for the election. For this purpose they selected the tree that stood farthest out on the open ground. This was done so that they could get the benefit of any breeze that might be blowing. There has been recently a sign placed on this tree and any person can find it. It stands about half way between the Tulare Irrigation company's flume and the Southern Pacific railroad bridge across the St. John river. The pioneers occupied the ground between the election tree and the river, and utilized the shade of several other trees. Messengers were sent back to Poole's ferry and night found the Mariposa adventurers in possession of the camp that the captors of the Wingfields had so recently occupied." The poll list of the Woodsville precinct was as follows: Augustus John, S. D. F. Edwards, Early Lyon, Martin Morris, J. B. Marsh, John A. Patterson, T. Hale, Richard Matthews, J. M. Snockters, R. P. Cardwell, S. P. Carter, C. Keener, Benj. Mettors, A. B. Gordon, J. M. Jackson, Henry Crowell, Wm. B. Hobbs, John Reefe, Clark Royster, S. M. Brown, J. G. Morris, P. F. Hesberp, B. B. Harris, A. H. Corbitt, L. B. Lewis, William Pedersen, W. C. McDougal, George H. Rhodes, Joseph A. Tivy, W. H. Howard, Charles J. Jones, Isaac McDonald, Joshua Sledd, W. H. Erving, James D. Savage, Robert F. Parks, J. L. Avenill, William Dougle, W. W. McMillen, William Dill, Penny Douglas, George H. Rogers, L. St. John, James Wate, A. J. Lawrence, Thomas McCormick, B. B. Overton, James Davis, A. A. Wingfield, R. Schuifier, A. M. Cameron. C. R: Wingfield voted at Poole's ferry, as did Nathaniel Vise. In looking over this poll list the observer is at once struck with the infrequency of well-known names of early pioneers. This was because there were few bona fide settlers in the settlement. After the election the commissioners remained in camp, received the returns from Poole's ferry and canvassed the entire vote. The following officers were elected: for county judge, Walter H. Harvey; county attorney, F. H. Sanford; county clerk, E. D. F. Edwards; recorder, A. B. Gordon; sheriff, William Dill; surveyor, Joseph A. Tivy; assessor, James B. Davis; coroner, W. W. McMillen; treasurer, L. C. Frankenberger. On July 12th, the county officers took the oath of office and the county seat remained for some time under the election tree, although most of the county officers returned shortly to Mariposa. Edwards, the county clerk, was killed in a quarrel with a man named Bob Collins, shortly after his arrival in Mariposa, and soon afterwards Major Savage was killed by Judge Harvey. Frankenberger, in a fit of delirium tremens, wandered off into the swamp and died. Later in the season, Dr. Everett was engaged in gambling at Woodsville with a man named Ball and a dispute arose about $5. Everett asked Ball if he was armed. Ball replied that he was not whereupon Everett commanded him to go and arm himself. Ball said that he would and started for his camp. Everett said he would go with him and see that he did it, pulling out his pistol at the same time. Ball then told him that the best way was to leave the matter till another day and it would probably be settled. "No," said Everett, "one of us must die now." Ball stooped over and carelessly rubbed his leg, saying, "If I must fight, I shall fight for blood," and at the same time suddenly lifting his pantaloons and drawing a revolver from his boot, shot Everett dead without drawing the pistol from its scabbard. Ball was examined before a justice of the peace and discharged. W. J. Campbell and Loomis St. John were justices of the peace and they, acting as associate judges with the county judge, constituted the court of sessions by which county affairs were administered. At the first meeting of the court of sessions held October 4, 1852, Judge Harvey presiding, a license for a ferry on Kings river and for a toll bridge at the Kaweah was granted. Thomas McCormick was appointed assessor to succeed Everett, and P. A. Rainholt was named to succeed J. C. Frankenberger. An election proclamation was issued for the general election to be held on the first Tuesday of November, 1852, for county and state officers and for presidential electors. Bona fide settlers had now, commenced to arrive. Among the first were S. C. Brown, A. H. Murray and family, three Matthews families, three Glenn families, Colonel Baker and family, Bob Stevenson and family, Abraham Hilliard and family, O. K. Smith, Samuel Jennings, Tom Willis, Tom Baker, G. F. Ship, J. C. Reed, John Cutler, Nathan Dillon and Edgar Reynolds. Nat Vise induced most of these parties to accompany him to the neighborhood of his claim, where they could, he said, find better land. They were pleased with this locality and got Vise to release his title to the claim he had first taken up, with a view to laying out a town and having it become the county seat. For protection against Indians a stockade was built large enough to hold the wagons and supplies and several log houses. This fort was situated on ground now bounded by School, Bridge, Oak and Garden streets, and was constructed by setting puncheons upright in a ditch about three feet deep. An extension of about four feet was made at each corner which permitted a raking fire on the side to be directed against an attacking party; should an attempt be made to climb over. The naming of the new settlement appeared to be the occasion of some dispute. The majority of the citizens favored naming it after its founder, Nathaniel Vise, but the board of supervisors designated it Buena Vista. The word Visalia first appears in the record of the court of sessions in August, 1853, when an order was entered dividing the county into townships. Woodsville and Visalia townships were divided by a line running north and south from the crossing of Canoe creek. Its derivation is believed by some to be from Vise and Sally or Salia, the name of Vise's wife. Others believe it to be a combination of Vise with Sa-ha-la, the Indian name for sweat house, and still others think it merely the termination "alia," as in Vandalia, Centralia, etc., chosen on account of its pleasing sound. In October of 1853 was held the first session of the board of supervisors. Town lots were parceled out and the record shows the entry, "Ordered that the seat of justice be Buena Vista." In the records of the court of sessions for February, 1854, the name Buena Vista appeared for the last time, all subsequent proceedings being dated Visalia. On the 11th of March, 1854, the board of supervisors entered an order granting the prayer of certain petitioners that the name of the seat of justice be Visalia. So much concerns the dispute over the name. The election by which the transfer of the seat of justice from Woodsville was effected was held in 1853. Judge Cutler was the champion of Woodsville and Judge Thomas Baker of Visalia. The vote was very close and bribery and corruption were alleged to have been used. The friends of Woodsville charged that the result in favor of Visalia was from the bribery of two or three voters and there was at least one notable case where one man obtained an eligible location a half mile south of the site of Visalia and that he thus seemed to desert his Woodsville friends. Although Baker carried the day in respect to his choice of county seat, he was defeated for judge, as Cutler proved far the more popular. There was constructed a sort of courthouse of rough boards affording an enclosure and a shelter and records were kept on scraps of paper and deposited in a wooden box. Much of the proceedings and accounts were kept in memory. At the session of the board of supervisors in March, 1854, many town lots were sold and an order was entered for building a jail sixteen feet in the clear inside and ten feet between floors. The building to be two stories high, to be built of hewed logs eight inches square, dove-tailed and pinned at the corners ; the wall to be double with a space between six inches wide, to be filled with broken rock. The floor was to be of logs of similar size, planked, and the planking to be held down by "double tens," one nail in every superficial inch. This order was to be published in a Mariposa newspaper. Although this was the first jail and courthouse in the new county, it was not built in time to accommodate the first prisoners or to furnish a place in which to hold the first trial. The first arrest in the county was that of Judge Harvey for the killing of Major Savage, but nothing came of it. As previously related, Ball was acquitted for the killing of Everett. The first case tried in the county was before a justice of the peace. It was that of a young Indian charged with shooting an arrow into a work-ox whereby the animal was more or less disabled. At this time few persons had allowed themselves to think of a lighter punishment for an Indian than that of summary execution. All concurred in the opinion that such mischief should not be tolerated. The mass of the Indians were disposed to be friendly, but were not disposed to take the same view of the necessity of adopting a more severe penalty for the Indians than was meted out to whites for similar offenses. The chief was anxious to preserve peace and volunteered his services to aid in the arrest of the culprit. The officers deputized to make the arrest were C. R. Wingfield and Jim Hale. They, in company with the chief, went to Cottonwood creek, near Elder Springs (Woodlake). Here the old chief suggested the plan of having the officers remain under a tree while he should go and make the arrest. Among these Indians the province of a chief is to advise rather than command, and the old chief perhaps regarded it as uncertain whether the young men of the camp would acquiesce in the surrender until they knew what the character of the punishment would be. The chief's pony was well jaded and Wingfield suggested an exchange of horses. After the officers had remained under the trees until they began to grow impatient, they saw two or three Indians on foot approaching from a distance. They came up and sullenly seated themselves under the tree. Soon after three or four more appeared. They were bountifully supplied with bows and arrows and Wingfield made the comment that they were going to be able to make an arrest quite beyond the scope of their original purpose. He saw no other plan, however, than that of awaiting the return of his horse. Soon the chief made his appearance with the prisoner, followed by about forty Indians fully equipped for war. When they came up, the officers, assuming a bold front in, an unpleasant emergency, took the prisoner in charge and started for camp, a distance of about ten miles. Arriving there the procession halted in front of the office of the justice of the peace, i.e., under the election tree. The Indians were resolved to allow no punishment which they did not sanction to be inflicted. The whites, of whom there were eighteen, were unaccustomed to brook anything like insolence from an Indian without shooting him down, and, having started in with the case, they saw no means of retreat without feeling a loss of dignity. Such an astounding capture, though unexpected, was fully comprehended and both parties were well assured that the first display of force on either side until the matter was arranged would lead to indiscriminate slaughter. For two days and two nights the matter was angrily discussed and finally the Indians submitted to having the case tried in the white man's way. The evidence on both sides was heard, and a judgment rendered that the accused Indian pay a fine of fifty buckskins to the owner of the ox. The Indians accepted this verdict as being perfectly just, the fine was at once paid and good feeling re-established. In the new settlement, by the close of '53 and the beginning of '54, many enterprises had been undertaken and much activity along many different lines manifested. Warren Matthews was building a millrace and a gristmill, using largely Indian labor. Nathan Baker had opened a store; a man named Ketchem started a saloon; many settlers made the trip to Stockton for seed, implements and provisions. A school was started with about half a dozen scholars. Children had been born, Commodore Murray being the first and "Sieb" Stevenson the second. O. K. Smith put up a sawmill for cutting oak timber, about half a mile east of Visalia. But we will pause here in the narration of historical events, while we have the opportunity, to survey the conditions in which the settlers found themselves. In 1853 the Williamson topographical survey party, in search of a railroad route through the interior of California, passed through this valley. The impressions of mineralogist William B. Blake, set down at the time, are so vivid and interesting that they are reproduced here. "Kings river to the Four Creeks, Aug. 1, 40.4 miles: Left camp on the borders of Kings river and travelled along its right bank to Poole's ferry, twelve miles below. "From the banks of the river at this ferry, there is nothing to obstruct the vision across the whole breadth of the Tulare valley, and the coast mountains may be dimly seen rising above the limits of the far-stretching plains. The Sierra Nevadas also present a magnificent spectacle from this place. The chain appears to reach a great altitude and to rise abruptly from the surrounding subordinate ridge. The outlines of the distant chain were sharply defined and the prominent peaks showed out boldly against the clear blue sky. Snow was resting on the summits in broad white fields that glistened under the rays of an unclouded sun and by its rapid melting kept the rivers well supplied with water. "From Kings river to the Four Creeks the surface of the ground shows but few undulations and may be considered as nearly level. The soil contains a large proportion of clay and must necessarily become soft and miry during the rainy season. About three miles northward of Elbow creek a large area of surface is composed almost wholly of clay without any admixture of sand or gravel and has evidently been nearly fluid in the wet season. This was shown by the deep tracks of animals in the then hard, sun-baked surface, and by great numbers of skeletons of cattle that have sunk in the deep, thick mud and been left there to die of starvation. Their whitened bones stood upright in the clay like posts around a grave. The drying up of this clayey ground has produced deep shrinkage cracks and fissures similar to those observed in the rich soils around the bay of San Francisco. "Four Creeks: From the level of the arid and treeless plain (what is now our richly productive tree and vine covered Alta district) bounded on the west by equally barren mountains, we made a sudden descent of about ten feet to the bottom land of Four Creeks. Here the aspect of the landscape suddenly changed. Instead of the brown, parched surface of gravel, to which the eye is accustomed on the surrounding plains, we find the ground hidden from view by a luxuriant growth of grass and the air fragrant with the perfume of flowers. The sound of flowing brooks and the notes of the wild birds greet the ear inn strange contrast with the rattle produced by the hot wind as it sweeps over the dried weeds and gravel of the plain. "The whole scene is overshadowed by groves of majestic oaks and the eye can wander down long avenues of trees until lost in the shadows of their foliage. This scene of natural beauty is the result of natural irrigation, the ground being abundantly watered by the Pi-piyuna river, which supplies the water that forms the Four Creeks * * * In fact, a broad delta is here formed between the Tulare lake and the mountains, and the profuse vegetation may not only be referred to the presence of water, but to the fertility of the soil, which is alluvial and is frequently enriched by overflows of the creeks." Visalia at this time was practically situated in a jungle surrounded by a swamp. On the plains beyond and in the more open portions of the oak forest, deer, elk and antelope abounded. Here, too, were numerous bands of wild horses. Capt. Thomas H. Thompson, in his history of Tulare county thus graphically speaks of these: "The region, too, as early as the summer of 1850, had been visited by large numbers in the pursuit of wild horses, these being in droves of thousands on the plains and about the lake. Westward but a short distance were the great ranchos of the Spanish period and from these the Indians had driven large bands of horses which became wild on the plains and increased in vast numbers. These animals in their wild freedom, their grace and beauty, their long flowing manes and tails, their speed and numbers, had attracted the attention and won the admiration of the immigrant of 1849, as he, with feeble ox or wornout mule, passed from the southern deserts through the valley on his painful journey to the mines farther north. He was fascinated with the beautiful and romantic sight, as great troops of the fat and glossy animals galloped past. Many of these immigrants and many other adventurous spirits returned the following year in the hope of wealth by capturing the wild horses of the Tulare plains. Large corrals of brush and fence and tule with branching wings were constructed, pits were excavated and other devices were essayed; fleet horses with skillful riders with lassos were employed, and all the efforts possible were made to capture the wild horses. Many were taken, a comparative few were tamed and subdued to use; great numbers were killed, and so vigorous was the onslaught that but a year or two elapsed when the wild horse was a rarity in the valley. They were beautiful animals, and in numbers a grand sight in their wild state, but when captured difficult to tame, always dangerous to handle, skittish and nervous, retaining during life their wild and untamable spirit. At least, such is the experience the writer of this had with the wild horses from the Tulare in 1850."