When the Wa-gas left this land, they left behind at this place a young man that was half Indian and half white. He remained for some time and cared for the pets, as the Wa-gas cherished them. The young man became lonesome for his people, in spite of the fact that he was very devoted to the deer, and one day he answered the call of the Wa-gas and followed in their footsteps, to join them in the far north. As he was leaving he asked the Indians of my ancient blood to care for his pets, as he would be absent and never return. This my people have done according to the request of the young man and out of their great friendship between the two races. This ancient house became a hallowed spot where sacred memories fill its every surroundings of a people that have passed away in silence long ago. In one corner of this dwelling, within its walls, is a large stone trough which was made and placed there by the Wa-gas untold centuries ago, so they could feed their deer. The deer were fed upon the stalks of tobacco and the walth-pay, the stalks being pounded into fine meal, mixed together and then placed in the stone trough for the deer to eat. It was said for ages, and up to the advent of the present white race, that the spirits of the departed Wa-gas would come earthward in the deep shadows of the evening time and open a door, which was made in the corner of the house for that purpose, so the deer could come in at night and feed upon the meal. The deer would stealthily emerge from their forest homes at night and upon finding the door open would enter the house and eat the meal, then just before the break of day they would silently vanish into the forests, and the door would be closed when morning came. My mother has seen the deer coming toward the house in the dark shadows of evening, but she has not seen them for a good many years, as they have become hunted beasts of prey. Through the memory of the passing ages the Wa-gas left this land before the world was covered with water, and according to these traditions this house goes back for hundreds of centuries. This house has survived, with its long line of descendants, but it is now fading in the storm of years that are passing, and the place of its ruins will soon be forgotten. There are a number of these old houses in the different villages along the Klamath river, from its source to its mouth, and on the coast from Ah-man to Trinidad. At the present day most of them are deserted, and are left to sink into ruins and oblivion.