His Chinese surname is lost. Probably, he had to drop it in order to go on living (as an Indian, though as a half-breed he lived apart from other Indians) in the remote eastern part of the county. His legacy is a single old newspaper clipping, tattered and yellowed, rescued from a trunk in the attic of my grandparents' house in Eureka. It reports his demise in a fire "at his shack, up the hill," and goes on to remark his generally unexceptionable character (the quality of temperance is particularly noted) and "lonesome ways." Finally, the article notes Charlie's apparently lifelong obsession with the aforementioned "visitors" (that word is actually employed in the article), which are characterized as "a horde of little yellow-gray men."

I suspect the editors of the newspaper (The Duckshoot Union) may, in their guilty paranoia over the leading role they had played in the elimination of Charlie's kin, have distorted his vision into the expectation of a reinvasion by Chinese (or even, the ghosts of Chinese). I suspect that Charlie himself may have spoken of "little [even relative to himself] gray men." I further suspect that the editors were off by precisely a century when they reported Charlie as having warned that said visitors would arrive in the summer of 1899. (If you think you've caught an acrid whiff of Nostradamus here, you could be on to something.)