In early America, interracial homicide—whites killing Native Americans, Native Americans killing whites—might result in a massive war on the frontier; or, if properly mediated, it might actually facilitate diplomatic relations, at least for a time. In Killing over Land, Robert M. Owens explores why and how such murders once played a key role in Indian affairs and how this role changed over time. Though sometimes clearly committed to stoke racial animus and incite war, interracial murder also gave both Native and white leaders an opportunity to improve relations, or at least profit from conflict resolution. In the seventeenth century, most Indigenous people held and used enough leverage to dictate the terms on which such conflicts were resolved; but after the mid-eighteenth century, population and material advantages gave white settlers the upper hand. Owens describes the ways settler colonialism, as practiced by Anglo-Americans, put tremendous pressure on Native peoples, culturally, socially, and politically, forcing them to adapt in the face of violence and overwhelming numbers. By the early nineteenth century, many Native leaders recognized that, with population and power so heavily skewed against them, it was only practical to negotiate for the best possible terms; lex talionis justice—blood for blood—proved an unrealistic goal. Consequently, Indigenous and white leaders alike became all too willing to overlook murder if it led to some kind of gain—if, for instance, justice might be traded for financial compensation or land cessions. Ultimately, what Owens analyzes in Killing over Land is nothing less than the commodification of human life in return for a sense of order—as defined and accepted, however differently, by both Native and white authorities as the contest for land and resources intensified in the European colonization of North America.

"This is a history of the clash between the White settlers and the Native Americans in what is now an affluent county in California. The frontier wars gave land and gold to Whites and reservations to the Native Americans. Eyewitness accounts and extensive research show the conflicting roles played by the Army, State Legislature and the US Congress"--Provided by publisher.

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A twisting, haunting true-life murder mystery about one of the most monstrous crimes in American history, from the author of The Wager and The Lost City of Z, “one of the preeminent adventure and true-crime writers working today."—New York Magazine • NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALIST • NOW A MARTIN SCORSESE PICTURE “A shocking whodunit…What more could fans of true-crime thrillers ask?”—USA Today “A masterful work of literary journalism crafted with the urgency of a mystery.” —The Boston Globe In the 1920s, the richest people per capita in the world were members of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma. After oil was discovered beneath their land, the Osage rode in chauffeured automobiles, built mansions, and sent their children to study in Europe. Then, one by one, the Osage began to be killed off. The family of an Osage woman, Mollie Burkhart, became a prime target. One of her relatives was shot. Another was poisoned. And it was just the beginning, as more and more Osage were dying under mysterious circumstances, and many of those who dared to investigate the killings were themselves murdered. As the death toll rose, the newly created FBI took up the case, and the young director, J. Edgar Hoover, turned to a former Texas Ranger named Tom White to try to unravel the mystery. White put together an undercover team, including a Native American agent who infiltrated the region, and together with the Osage began to expose one of the most chilling conspiracies in American history. Look for David Grann’s latest bestselling book, The Wager!

"Tomomi Hanamure, a Japanese citizen who loved exploring the rugged wilderness of the American West, was killed on her birthday May 8, 2006. She was stabbed 29 times as she hiked to Havasu Falls on the Havasupai Indian Reservation at the bottom of Grand Canyon. Her killer was an 18-year old Havasupai youth named Randy Redtail Wescogame who had a history of robbing tourists and was addicted to meth. It was the most brutal murder ever recorded in Grand Canyon's history."--Amazon.com.

" Killing Ground is a significant contribution, a new way of looking at highly familiar images."—Shelby Foote "These haunting photographs of then and now offer a new and powerful perspective on the tragedies and triumphs—above all, the human cost—of the Civil War. John Huddleston's photographs of selected spots on dozens of battlefields of that war, juxtaposed with photographs of soldiers killed or wounded there and other contemporary illustrations, make telling points in a unique manner. This book does more than prove the old adage that a picture is worth a thousand words; it tells the poignant story of the Civil War in a way that goes beyond words."—James McPherson " Killing Ground situates us uncomfortably in a terrain where living memory has only recently completed its transformation into history. John Huddleston has photographed the scenes of this vast communal hurt, from the mightiest battles to obscure actions involving a few combatants; in every instance he asks the land itself to yield up what traces it may hold of the mortal issues contested there. Suburban intersection, brushy tangle, murky pool, well-tended battle park—all are joined by a commonality that Huddleston insists we not forget: Americans died here, killed by other Americans."—Frank Gohlke In Killing Ground, John Huddleston embarks on a photographic odyssey through the modern-day landscape of the Civil War. He pairs historical images of the conflict from sixty-two battle sites across the nation—battlefield scenes, soldiers living and dead, prisoners of war, civilians, and slaves—with his own color photographs of the same locations a century and a half later, always taken at the same time of year, often at the same hour of the day. Sometimes Huddleston's lens reveals a department store or fast-food restaurant carelessly built on hallowed ground; other images depict overgrown fields or well-manicured parks. When contrasted with their mid-nineteenth-century counterparts, these indelible images challenge the meaning of place in American culture and the evolving legacy of the Civil War in our national memory.

Devoted to the conversion of cut-over timber lands & to their most productive use for farming, stock raising, fruit growing & kindred purposes...