and returned to his former home on Lost River, Superintend-
ent Meacham visited the chief in his camp at the peril of his
life, and after a council which lasted three days, Ki-ent-poos
said : "I believe that you are my friend, and I will do as you
tell me." The result was that the Modocs returned quietly to
the reservation, and war was for the time averted.
In the autumn of 1872, after Meacham had retired from office, and gone into the Presidential campaign as candidate for State elector, Captain Jack left the reservation a second time. Superintendent Odneal did not visit him, but sent him word that unless he returned at once to the reservation, an army of soldiers would be sent to compel his return. The soldiers followed this insulting message before the Modocs had time to duly consider the matter and decide what they should do. War ensued, and although Captain Jack had but fifty-three fighting men, he whipped our army every time he was attacked. In the spring of 1873 the President sent for Colonel Meacham (he being in Washington, as a member of the electoral college), and said to him: "I want you to accept the chairmanship of a Peace Commission, and go out and tender the olive branch to Captain Jack."
Colonel Meacham at first declined, but the President pressed him to accept, on the ground that he had the confidence of the Modocs, and could, probably, save hundreds of lives and millions of money; and also save the Modocs from extermina- tion. Then he yielded. But my readers will find a history of the tragic result of this effort of Colonel Meacham's at peace-making, in his lecture printed with this sketch; hence I need not repeat it here. In April, 1875, I went with a friend to Cooper Union Hall, to hear the story of the Modoc War from the lips of Colonel Meacham, Scar-Face Charley, and Wi-ne-ma. But our personal acquaintance began in June, of the same year, on Boston Common, where we met in an acci- dental way, and were introduced by our mutual friend, Dr. Dio Lewis. Within an hour we were fast friends, and a few months later he became an inmate of my home in New York. He had written and published a book of 700 pages, "Wigwam and War-Path" besides delivering many lectures, during the
