was the last of the Yahi tribe hid in the dark woods of Northern Cal for 40 years by himself and had singed off his hair in morning for his dead. But hungry and cold one winter morning, Ishi walked down the mountain and into the modern world. An anthropologist studied Ishi and recorded over 400 of Ishi's songs but couldn't understand the meaning. They took Ishi to the opera, taught him to wear suits and made him strip for photos, the thin smile of Ishi curved like his hunting bow. He never told them what happened to his people out of respect for the dead but agreed to take the scientists back to his land. In the woods, Ishi talked of his people. The scientists learned of the great massacres by the Indian hunters and how Ishi and his mother escaped jumping into the cold creek and floating downstream with the bodies of the dead. Ishi adapted to modern life and the anthropologist took leave as a linguist came to solve the meaning of the Yahi's tales. That summer they worked all day and he noted Ishi's stories of Coyote, Crow and Bear until Ishi caught TB. One day Ishi collapsed and on his death bed, almost too weak to talk Ishi pointed South at the hole in the sky and before passing, he said, You stay here, I go.