ISHI, LAST OF HIS TRIBE

Something special happens when a book goes out into the world. Connections with readers and supportive writers who share similar interests seem to come out of nowhere. Imagine how happy I was to have one of my early reader volunteers bring up a topic germane to the issue of shadow town massacres, those towns where Native Americans were slaughtered by white plunderers in early California history.

I read the book, Ishi, Last of his Tribe many years ago during my college days. The plight of Native Americans in California had never been part of my history education, and I was horrified. The story kicked off a frenzy of research. I wrote several papers about the genocide of the continent's first people, and the so-called shadow towns such as the fictional Umbra River in Geode. How I wish I had copies of those papers now.

Ishi, the last living member of the Yahi nation in Northern California, was the lone survivor of his tribe, which was wiped out by invading white hunters in the early 1900’s. He spent most of his life alone and in hiding.

His story was written by Theadora Kroeber, whose husband, Alfred, was Chairman of the Department of Anthropology for the University of California in 1911 when Ishi was brought into civilization, barely alive. He was found in a corral In Oroville, CA, starving and exhausted, and was taken to jail. Alfred heard about Ishi, traveled to Oroville, and identified him as being of the Yahi tribe. Ishi was taken to the U.C. Berkeley Anthropology Museum and became a living exhibit. Eventually, he and Alfred Kroeber became good friends, and he was given a home on the campus. The remainder of his life was spent teaching about his native language and way of life of his tribe. It was invaluable information.

My husband’s great uncle lived in Nord, California, a tiny burg in Butte County close to the land where the Yahi tribe thrived at one time. Uncle Olie was an avid hiker in his youth and was familiar with the woods where the Yahi lived and had come across their camps many times. He even had a glimpse of Ishi once. Olie knew of the genocide at the hands of the white man and was shocked to see the lone survivor.

A year or so after Ishi was found and settled at the University, Olie hiked to the location of the last Yahi camp. There wasn’t much left, but he noticed an unusual lump in the ground under some brush. There, camouflaged by years of dirt and underbrush, was a well-preserved mortar and pestle. The grinding bowl created from a small boulder that over time and with much use became the bowl for grinding food such grains, seeds, herbs, dried meat, and acorns, which were ground into flour.

Now for the best part. All those years ago, my soon-to-be-great-uncle by marriage noticed my interest and showed me the mortar and pestle. I touched it and held the pestle in my hand. The same one used by native women making food for their tribe. The mortar was too heavy for me to lift, but I put my hands on it hoping to feel the history. What an absolute thrill for me, and I will never forget it. I ran to the car to get my camera. I had the real deal back then, a Bessler Topcon SLR camera with three lens options. The photograph included is the only one that remains as far as I know.

Now, I see a parallel with geodes. On the outside, both are nondescript rocks.  However, one holds astonishing beauty inside, and the other holds the means of preparing food for survival. Nothing is always as it seems on the surface.