Nehaveigur

Since moving to California, Lassen National Park in Northern California has become one of my favorite places. It’s less well known than Yosemite and the other national parks in driving distance of San Francisco, and therefore less crowded. On the contrary, it sometimes seems deserted, which is astounding considering the scenery and wildlife. There are several areas with hot springs and bubbling mud holes, one of which is called Bumpass Hell. It was named after a man whose name was Bumpass and who fell into one of the hot mud pots, hurting his leg so badly it had to be amputated. Accidents leading to dismemberment don’t get funnier than that.

I can imagine spending a long time in Lassen and the surrounding areas without ever encountering anyone, like the man who spent 27 years by himself in the wilderness of Maine.

This brings me to Ishi in Two Worlds by Theodora Kroeber, published in 1961. It’s about the last surviving member of the Yahi tribe, who lived without contact to the outside world until 1911, when he was discovered near Oroville a few miles southwest of Lassen. That he succeeded in not making contact for as long as he could must have been aided by the remoteness of the territory.

He was taken to San Francisco and spent the next five years under the custody of Alfred Kroeber, the author’s father and an anthropologist at the University of California, who did his best to treat him with respect. Still, stories don’t get sadder than this. The reason no-one else from Ishi’s tribe survived was that they were killed in the California genocide. Being the only remaining member of his people meant that he was the last one to speak the language and to carry the memory of all of those who came before him. Finally, we don’t even know his real name. Ishi means “man” in the language of the Yahi, and he never revealed his real name to Alfred Kroeber or anyone else, since the tradition of his people was that this requires a formal introduction by another member of his tribe, of which there were none left. He died from Tuberculosis in 1916, likely made worse by a lack of acquired immunity.