Death
By the summer of 1851, Tenaya grew tired of the reservation. He gave his pledge that he would not disturb any non-indigenous people. However, in 1852, a group of prospectors were killed in the Valley. Tenaya and his band fled to join the Mono Paiutes. He returned to the Valley in 1853. He was stoned to death in a dispute with the Mono Paiutes over stolen horses. The remaining survivors who were not killed were taken back to Mono Lake and absorbed into the Mono Lake Paiute population.
Another version of the story says that in the spring of 1852, a party of eight prospectors entered the Valley. One of the prospectors had lured his comrades there to kill them and take possession of a mine they held in partnership. He had incited the Yosemites to kill the intruders, arranging his escape and letting the blame fall on them. Late in the summer of 1853, Tenaya and some of the men of his band were playing a hand bone game with some Mono Indians. The gambling became tense and a fight broke out which ended with Tenaya being struck in the head with a rock crushing his skull along with several others of his band killed as well. As was their custom, they were cremated and wailing was heard for two weeks. After the death of their chief the few remaining members dispersed between Mono Lake and to the near west.
Read more about this topic: Chief Tenaya
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“In the deeper layers of the modern consciousness ... every attempt to succeed is an act of aggression, leaving one alone and guilty and defenseless among enemies: one is punished for success. This is our intolerable dilemma: that failure is a kind of death and success is evil and dangerous, is—ultimately—impossible.”
—Robert Warshow (1917–1955)
““Promise me solemnly,” I said to her as she lay on what I believed to be her death bed, “if you find in the world beyond the grave that you can communicate with me—that there is some way in which you can make me aware of your continued existence—promise me solemnly that you will never, never avail yourself of it.” She recovered and never, never forgave me.”
—Samuel Butler (1835–1902)
“I was now at a university in New York, a professor of existential psychology with the not inconsiderable thesis that magic, dread, and the perception of death were the roots of motivation.”
—Norman Mailer (b. 1923)