would go back to their homes, calmed and comforted why, they alone know, but can not or will not tell. A half hour before sunset they repeated the visit, remaining until the sun dropped from sight, when the expression of their sorrow often rose to wild screams and shrieks which only exhaustion could calm, for they found no comfort until the sun rose again.
It is difficult to obtain information on what they believe to have been their origin. It is the one thing which they seem to hold sacred and do not care to talk about. One Indian smiled as he said: "Oh, all same as white man; Indians think lots of things 'bout that." However, the following traditions were told to me by one old Indian, and I afterward learned from a civilized Indian woman that they were what the majority of these Indians believe.
The first was that two big mountains, probably Mounts Shasta and Lassen, got mad one day a long time ago and threw up lots of dirt, all kinds of wild animals, one big chief, and two mahalas.
The second is best told in the Indian's own language:
"Long time ago, no Indians, no white man, no nothing; all water, one big lake. Sometimes little mountains, little trees, little grass, but no Indians. Lots of deer, lion, bear, wild cat, ebrything like that. Great Spirit come in big canoe, take good deer, good lion, good wild cat, good bear, make Indians; then tell these Indians kill all bad deer, bad lion, bad bear, bad wild cat—they all bad." There is a shadowy relation here to the Oriental idea of the transmigration of the soul, which the student of comparative religions may take for what it is worth.
There is no evidence whatever of any written language among this people. While there is much of legendary lore among them, it is entirely traditionary in its character. It is also pervaded to a great extent with a spirit of mysticism so as to render many of their legends almost unintelligible. The following tribal legend is a fair sample of their poetical stories. It is well known among the members of the tribe, and is related in substantially the same language by all:
A dead pine tree has stood many years in the deep, clear water of Homer Lake, which lies at the foot of Mount Keddie, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. According to the old Indian tradition, it turns around once every year, when a great Water Spirit imprisoned in its base raises its head to take a look at the world. The legend says that when the Indians first came to the valley where the lake is situated they found it one great body of water. They came in canoes and lived for years on the tops of high mountains. The Water Spirit had full control and made them no end of trouble. One day they gathered in a body and made supplication to the Great Spirit, who answered by commanding the
