Buckskin Mose

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A LITTLE COMPASSION--WHITE FOLLY AND RED TREACHERY--A SQUEAK FOR LIFE--MAKING TRACKS--FEMALE SOCIETY--A TASTE OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION--DEFERRING A HONEY-MOON--THE ARMY OFFICER--TRAILING AND SPOTTING--A CHANCE TO LOOK AT A LITTLE INDIAN FIGHTING--WRATHFUL AND RIGHTEOUS BUNCOMBE--FORCED TO BEND ONE'S HEAD--MIRTH EVEN AT THE POINT OF DEATH.

  We had not to wait long for the red-skins to attempt carrying out theirlate threats. On this occasion, we also had a good example afforded usof their gratitude, and keen sense of obligation for kindness.

  About ten o'clock on the following day, I discovered some thirty-five orforty of them descending the side of the mountain near the Ranch, ontheir ponies. Tom Harvey was at the moment standing by me. He recognizedan Indian at their head whom he had almost, as he himself expressed it,raised. He had lived with Tom for several years, and on one occasion,had saved Tom's life. Naturally enough, old love for the lad, who wasnow barely eighteen years of age, moved Harvey's bowels strongly withcompassion.

  Being, as my readers already know, a largely fat man, his compassion forthe young Pah-ute was as oilily large and full-sized.

  To state matters briefly, he wished to save him, and applied to me forpermission to go out and warn him to leave.

  "If I grant it, you must keep your tongue still, upon our being here."

  "In course I will, Cap!"

  "Not one word must you utter about our presence at the Ranch."

  "D'yer think I'm a fool, Cap?"

  Well! It can be no use to induce the belief that I did not wish him togo. Perhaps, at the time, owing to my conversation with Laithrop on thenight before, I may have fancied we had judged the red rascals tooharshly. Possibly--but there is no reason for my hesitation, or beatingthe cover. I may as well have it out, at once. The truth is, like anidiot, I permitted him to constitute himself good adviser to the onered-skin in particular, and necessarily to the others in general.

  With my full sympathy he walked towards the Indians, and motioned to himhe had recognized, to come forward. The young Pah-ute advanced.

  Tom spoke to him, and the red-skin replied, making a gesture of dissentas he did so. After this Harvey continued long and earnestly, apparentlyurging him warmly to induce his colored friends to desist from theirhostile intentions. The Indian, with an emphatic movement of the arm,seemed positively to refuse attempting to bring them to any suchconcession. It was then I saw the Ranger point in the direction of the_corral_ in which I had stationed portion of my men.

  Immediately that I saw this, I became aware of the folly I had beenguilty of, even more clearly than Harvey himself, soon afterwards, wasof his.

  The young red-skin turned at once to his companions, pointing to the_corral_, and uttering a few rapid words. Then I saw Tom Harvey rushingback towards me, while the Pah-utes fired a volley on the house or shedto which the Ranger's insane frankness had directed them. It was merelymade of boards, an inch in thickness, reared end-ways. Their bulletsriddled it, with the rattle of a storm of hail. All we could do inreturn was to fire on them from the _corral_ and the house, as theyturned tail and urged their ponies up the mountain they had beendescending. We saw five or six of them reel in their saddles. But theywere prevented from falling from them, by their companions, until thewhole of them were out of sight.

  One of our own men had been instantly killed by their volley.

  My wish was to follow them instantly. But, in this instance, my orderswere not attended to. The boys had rushed upon Harvey and seized him.They were already violently discussing the question whether they shouldshoot or hang him for the crime he had committed. It was fortunate forhim that my wrath, as well as that of Arnold and Painter, althoughfierce enough, was scarcely so savage as theirs was. Brighton Bill andButch', I knew, would stand by me in almost any case, whether theyagreed with me or not. If matters came to the worst, I also felt certainthat we might count upon the assistance of George Laithrop. Rushingamongst them, it was with no small violence, and even a fierce blow ortwo, that I struggled to the side of the pale and weaponless Harvey, andwrenched him from their hands.

  "What are you doing--Rangers?"

  "A' going to hang him, darned quick."

  "Without even a trial?" I demanded.

  "We'll jist try him, arterwards."

  "Then, by God!" I said, "you will have to hang me and try meafterwards, too." As they paused for perhaps half a minute, I continuedwithout giving them a chance to speak. "I believed you chose me yourCaptain, yet here you are going to hang one of my boys, without lettingme say a single word."

  "Say it darned sharp, then, Cap!"

  "And give us your orders to run him up with a rope, or put a bulletthrough his skull, in two minutes," roared out another.

  As they were again crowding up and one of them had grasped Harvey by thecollar, Ben Painter, followed by Arnold, had struggled to my side andthrust him back.

  "I tell yer," he shouted out, for otherwise he would scarcely have beenheard, "Mose is right. He's Captain. We mustn't have any VigilanceCommittee business, but do up things square."

  "We'll take him down to Susanville, and give him a fair trial," addedArnold.

  "And then yer can hang him, if yer choose to," exclaimed Butch'. "Yer'llonly have tu wait twenty-four hours."

  By this time, the last speaker and Brighton Bill had vigorously thrusttheir way to my side, and I felt I had a sufficient support to carry mypoint and save Harvey from the menacing rope and tree which had solately reared themselves before him.

  But he also seemed to feel his increased chance of safety, and anxiousto improve it, attempted to commence defending himself. When, however,he did so, I cut him short with a fierce whisper, announcing to him thatif he uttered "a single word," I would abandon him. The Rangers were ina moment of such wild excitement, that, had he spoken, every effort wemight have made would have been useless. Their savage fury would veryspeedily have settled the question, in spite of us. Even as it was, wehad to contend with them for more than an hour, before we had calmedthem down sufficiently to listen to our arguments.

  When this was at last effected, I placed him in the charge of Painterand Brighton Bill, while we buried the man who had been slain throughhis insane want of judgment.

  That night we slept in George Laithrop's house, and on the followingmorning we were no sooner stirring, than it was discovered that while wehad been sleeping, Tom Harvey had been awake. In other words, he hadmade tracks.

  It must be remembered that there was scarcely one of our party who,while engaged in active work, looking after the Indians, was not in thehabit of keeping one eye at least half-open in the hours of hisintermittent rest. Possibly, however, it was the belief that there wasno actual danger immediately around us, as well as the security Tom'ssize and weight appeared to afford against any attempt on his part toescape, that prevented our slumbers from being broken. At all events, itwas difficult for us to realize the fact that he had managed it. We wereall of us sleeping upon the floor of the house. Our blankets were all wehad. Beds were then a scarcity, in this portion of the West, as, indeed,they would be now, at any Ranch in a section of it not too thicklypopulated. How the deuce he managed to step over the prostrate forms ofso many of us as were lying between him and the door, without disturbingone of the sleepers, it would be impossible to say. Had he made theerror of half an inch, in placing one of his feet upon the ground, hecould not have failed to waken the Ranger on whose body or limbs he musthave trodden. Fear had evidently much lightened his person. In additionto this, I could not help suspecting that George Laithrop had connivedat his escape. Of course, there was a frightful commotion about itamongst the boys, whose feelings of security amongst themselves had beenso unpleasantly dispelled by his conduct. George, however, escapedwithout the slightest suspicion. If any one was imagined to have aidedand abetted his flight it was myself and Harry Arnold. In fact, as wewere riding back to Susanville, Butch' could not help saying:

  "I'm darned if y
er didn't manage the thing well, Mose."

  After this, none of us again alluded to it. Life was too active and fullof daily excitement, to give us time for recalling such an event afterit had reckoned itself with the doings of the past.

  Only once since then, did I hear anything of "Fatty." He had been seenby a trapper on the Humboldt River, and had then said he was on the wayto Salt Lake City. He may possibly by this time have become a Mormon,and been enrolled as an elder of that polygamous community.

  Some time in July, 1862, I received a letter from the last-named place.A few months earlier I had written to my wife, begging her to come tome, and giving her directions how to cross the Plains. This letter wasfrom her. She had immediately complied with my wishes, and requested meto meet her as soon after she left Salt Lake as might be possible. Itwould be impossible to express the delight which I felt in knowing shewas so near me. None of those who have not experienced the pleasures ofa life with little female society, and no near female relative to whomthey can unbosom all their joy as well as all their weariness,discomfort, and trouble, can realize it. In the excess of mygratification, I fear I must have exposed myself to the laughter andjocularity as well as the envy of many of my comrades, as I cannot doubtbut that, in my first moments of well-nigh delirious pleasure, I musthave made a complete fool of myself.

  Almost immediately, I left Susanville for Virginia City, Nevada. Thence,I went to Dayton.

  Here I met an overland stage-driver. From him I heard that he had passeda train at Austin, in which I might find my wife. Accordingly, Ipurchased a horse and side-saddle from the keeper of the hotel, who wasnamed Jaquish, and on the succeeding day was again in the saddle.

  Dan Vanderhoof, a friend of mine whom I had known for several years,accompanied me portion of the way to Carson City. I went to this placewith the view of meeting Colonel P. E. Connor with his command ofCalifornia Volunteers. My friend introduced me to him and MajorGallagher, and I was asked to accompany them some eight miles down theCarson River to Reed's Station. It was to talk upon "business."Otherwise, I should have certainly declined deviating from the road, soincreasingly anxious was I to see the little woman from whom I had solong been separated.

  This business was, after the evening meal, speedily arranged.

  They needed a guide and scout through Idaho and Utah, in the Fall. Myqualifications as the last, would counterbalance any deficiency I mighthave as to the first-named. The necessary details were quickly agreedupon, and early on the next morning I was crossing the Desert towardsthe big bend of the Carson River. On the day following this, I came upona large train of stock, and one of the guides told me a larger train wasthen some four miles behind them, at a distance of something more than amile from the main track. Pushing on at once, in less than half an hourI came in sight of the encampment.

  While I was riding up to it, my wife recognized me. How she was able todo so, has, on thinking the matter over, always astonished me. The tanof exposure on the frontier, fuller muscle, and the general style of mydress and equipment, had so thoroughly changed my personal appearance.

  However, she certainly did know me. As for her, I should have recognizedher features, even had she been dressed in the unsightly garb of anEsquimaux.

  It would be little use for me to detail the words and actions of thismeeting. Any man who has been so long separated from his wife as I hadbeen, and any female who had, for so long a period, not seen the face ofher husband, will readily imagine what passed between us. We were,nevertheless, quickly compelled to bring our outburst of natural joy toan end, by the approach of Chart Gregory with Mr. and Mrs. Devine, andothers of her companions on the train. Then I heard of all the troubleshe had been exposed to, and more especially of a fellow named MatCarpenter, who had been consistently unkind to her since they had firststruck the Plains. He had been an old school-mate of hers, and haddisplayed the memory of their childish intimacy, by doing all hepossibly could to increase the discomfort she had experienced in herpreliminary taste of Western civilization.

  "You needn't look round for him, Mr. P----," said Gregory, as he saw myeyes wandering round the camp, with an ominous look for him. "No soonerhad your lady recognized you, than the scamp cleared out."

  At the instant, the employment of my real name, for the first time in somany years, as well as the polite appellation he had bestowed on "Mrs.P----," so completely astonished me, that I momentarily lost myself-possession. After this I could not help laughing, as my wife alsodid, although she, very certainly, could not comprehend the motive whichinduced such an audible peal of merriment on my part. Then she told methat Mr. Gregory had already thrashed Mat, some two days since. At thesame time he had told him, I should be made acquainted with his conductthe moment that I met the train. This very clearly accounted for hisdisappearance, without waiting for an introduction.

  Having adjusted the side-saddle for my wife, and seen that she wassafely mounted, I took behind me what positively needful articles shemight require. With a friendly farewell upon our part, and a gratefulleave-taking on mine to those of her fellow-travellers who had shown herkindness, we started across the great Desert.

  Continuing all night, we broke fast next morning at one of the stagestations, and after resting for an hour, once more started.

  From this point the road followed the river, and in my anxiety to savesome eight or ten miles of a track which I knew must be toilsome in theextreme to a female whose life had not been passed in this part of thecountry, I cut across the low range of hills by an old Indian trail.When, however, I observed some Indians approaching from our right, Irecognized the want of caution I had displayed. Without calling mywife's attention to their dark specks in the distance, for they were along way from us, I urged the horses into a sharp gallop, trusting theymight not have seen us. But the red man has eyes quite as keen as thewhite ranger. They changed their course, with the evident purpose ofcutting us off from the river.

  My decision was rapidly formed.

  Knowing we should soon mount a small ridge, and should on its far sidebe unseen by them for some time, we had no sooner crossed it, than Iturned left into the ravine known as Six-mile Canyon. Pushing rapidly upthis, we made our escape, and I did not mention the narrow chance we hadrun of an Indian fight, until my wife and myself were in sight ofVirginia City.

  This was, I may undoubtedly say, the first case in which I had turnedtail on the red-skins without an interchange of hostile salutations.

  On arriving at Susanville, my friends told me that the Indians had, theday before, killed Loomis Kellogg and a man of the name of Block, besidewounding Theodore Perdum, at a place more than half-way betweenLaithrop's Ranch and Mud Springs. They had been attacked by a party ofIndians, which were generally in the vicinity of Honey Lake and closelyupon the Humboldt. These had been baptized by the settlers as theSmoke-creek tribe, although by no means a tribe in the same sense as thePah-utes and Modocs were.

  This band of red-skins was composed of the offscourings of these twotribes who had either fled or been chased from them, simply because theywere too scoundrelly and contemptibly degraded, in the eyes of theiroriginal brethren, to be trusted or consorted with.

  Smoke-creek Sam was their chief. He had earned this pre-eminence bybeing, at long odds, not only the most blood-thirsty villain in thisgang of red devils, but perhaps the most irredeemable ruffian the Indianhistory of the West can chronicle. The outrages in which he and his bandhad been involved, both at our immediate expense and that of all thesettlers anywhere in our vicinity, were well-nigh numberless. During thepast year, whether Uncle Sam's patience had been worn out by theaccounts he had received of his namesake's rascally and bloody offences,or from a wish to make some capital in the East by bestowing a littleaffection on his Western nephew, it would be impossible to say. He,however, condescended to bestow a little attention upon Smoke-creek Sam.Some blue-coats had been sent out, and two military posts had beenformed. These were, respectively, on Smoke and Granite Creeks, in thecentre of the
sweep of country exposed to this scoundrel's depredations.

  For a short time, he became somewhat quieter; but as the blue-coats didnot busy themselves in punishing him, he had again plucked up courage,and since the Pah-ute troubles had anew commenced, was, once more, onthe war-trail.

  Harry Arnold had already called the Buckskin Rangers together, and theyhad determined upon starting for the purpose, if possible, of completelyexterminating Smoke-creek Sam and his gang of cut-throats. My presencein Susanville was speedily known by them, and I was unanimously calledto take my position as the leader in this expedition.

  The second honey-moon of my one marriage was, therefore, brought to anend, or, rather, indefinitely deferred. It had, most certainly, scarcelybegun, unless the commencement of such an agreeable period of life maybe supposed to take place in the saddle, and in flight from a party ofhostile Indians.

  Short time was allowed me to make my wife as comfortable as theexigencies of the moment permitted. The little woman submitted to themlike a veritable heroine.

  In something less than an hour, we were on our way to the spot where themurders had taken place. While going, we were joined by two companies ofsoldiers, ordered out for the same purpose. Captain Knight was incommand of them; and shortly after we had passed Summit Lake, andreached the place where Fort Warner now stands, I touched on a freshIndian trail.

  My readers will not be unlikely to inquire how in the dry season of theyear, when the cracked and parched earth takes no footprint, I was ableto discern it. A small pebble here and there, freshly turned over, or afew stones formed into a sign for other red-skins, either to tell theday of the month on which they passed,[1] or indicate the period of theyear, are more than sufficient to the ordinary scout and trapper. Inthis case the first sign of a trail had been sufficient for me. It wasclear that a very large number of the red-skins were in front of us,and, very certainly, scarcely as much as twelve hours ahead.

  Consequently I sent Arnold up the side of the mountain, to see whetherthe red-skins might not be still in our neighborhood.

  The Rangers were on foot, and I and Harry had been in advance of them.As I now continued, Captain Knight overtook me, almost immediately afterI had been joined by Brighton Bill and most of the other boys.

  "They say, Mose, you are on the trail?"

  "So I am, Captain."

  "I can see nothing!"

  "Perhaps not. It needs quick eyes to follow this one."

  "If there really is one," he said sharply.

  His tone was not the most agreeably confiding possible, and I raised myeyes from the ground on which they had hitherto been fixed, tocontemplate him, when Bill inquired:

  "'Ow long, Cap, was hit since the blamed cusses went by 'ere?"

  "From four to six hours. Possibly, something more," was my answer.

  The officer gave utterance to a low and very dubious whistle, whichunmistakably suggested a disbelief in the authority Bill had appealedto. On hearing it the Ranger's bronzed face flushed, and he turned onthe captain, exclaiming:

  "What hin 'ell do you know habout hit? Hi'll bet my bottom dollar, Mosehain't made no mistake."

  "Well, my lads," said Knight, who, I must do him justice, immediatelysaw the mistake he had made, "go ahead, if you feel so confoundedly sureof the rascals."

  "In course we are," put in Butch'. "You just leave Mose alone, and we'llhave their hair, afore night."

  By this time, Arnold had rejoined us. He had as yet seen nothing.Leaving him, therefore, to follow the trail, I went up the mountain totry my luck. As I reached its summit, and cast a careless glance downthe other side, which was bare of timber, I caught sight of what Ibelieved must be our Indians. Some juniper trees concealed me.Descending a few paces on the side where I had left the boys, I swung myhat. They understood my meaning and came to a halt. Arnold and Paintervery soon joined me, and carefully concealing our movements, we creptagain to the summit. As they coincided with me, we immediately returnedto our party.

  Upon informing Captain Knight of what we had seen, he condescended toexpress his gratification, and immediately ordered his men to continuethe trail we had hitherto been pursuing, and follow the red-skins roundthe far side of the mountain.

  On my venturing to suggest that he had better send only a portion of hismen up the valley, he inquired what reason induced me to advise such adivision of his command.

  "All the red devils are smart enough, Captain! Smoke-creek Sam is 'cuterthan every Yankee pedler rolled into one, if that one had been betweenHoney Lake and the Humboldt for the last five years."

  "Well! What if he is?"

  "He's sure to smell us out. But if you will give me part of your men, Iwill take them with my boys across the mountain. Between us, not ared-skin shall escape."

  "That's so, Captain!" said Harry Arnold, emphatically. "Mose gives goodadvice."

  Whether or no Harry's opinion was so little flattering to his ownjudgment or not, that he was riled by the preference given to mycounsel, modestly as it had been offered him, I am unable to say. Withan obstinacy which may be a good thing in regular war, but is surely thereverse of it in following Indians, he would neither abandon hisprevious determination, nor give me one of his men. He, indeed, did allbut order me to continue with him.

  My back was now up. To his astonishment he found out that I was to thefull as--perhaps, even more determined to have my own way in a matter Ithoroughly understood, than he was. Possibly, although I do not like toventure such an opinion touching any of Uncle Sam's servants, he mayhave had no wish to catch the red-skins. In entertaining such adisinclination, he would only be imitating too closely the generalpolicy of our respected relative.

  Whatever his wish may have been, I ordered the boys to their saddles,and leaving him, struck a long canyon we had recently passed, which ledus almost to the spot on which the Indians had just been sighted, whomArnold and Ben Painter as well as myself believed to be the Smoke-creekgang. When we reached the valley in which they were, we found ourselvesimmediately ahead of the course they were taking.

  No sooner had they spotted our party, which it was easy to do, in atract of country almost entirely bare of foliage of any description,than they came to a halt.

  We were yet far beyond rifle-range, and I actually thought they weregoing to give us the chance of a fair and square stand-up fight.

  True, however, to their invariable character, the red men thought twiceupon the matter. Turning from us they started up the valley, in thedirection Knight's command was coming. However, they did not continuetheir retreat (it was a tolerably rapid one, as our pursuit also was)for more than a mile. Here they plunged into a rocky gorge on theirleft. Fancying that they might intend drawing the Rangers into a trap, Isent Brighton Bill and four others up the right side of the gorge, whichwas the most precipitous. Ben Painter, and some half-dozen more, weretold to mount the other side. My directions were that they shouldadvance as quickly as was possible, so that they might be able to headthe party we were pursuing. It was fortunate that the ground presentedtolerably rough travelling for horses, or, as they had necessarilydismounted, it would have been impossible for them to do this.

  After pursuing the uneven and broken track in the centre of the gorgefor a considerable length, perhaps some three-quarters of a mile, itturned suddenly to the right.

  Here it formed a deep and irregular basin, from which there was only onemeans of escape.

  This was a narrow and rocky defile, running up the steep side of thecanyon. As they saw us behind them, they endeavored to mount this.

  Bill, and the boys who were with him, had, however, moved too quickly.Scarcely had they entered the defile, than he administered them a sharpwarning to retreat.

  Astounded by the totally unexpected warmth with which they had beensaluted, they faced round, with the intention of fighting their waythrough their pursuers.

  Upon reaching the bend of the gorge, at which it widened into thisbasin, Ben's party received them with a round volley.

&n
bsp; The red-skins now knew they were fairly trapped, and drawing back intothe basin, commenced, with the fragments of rock, to pile up a rude sortof breastwork. As the boys were dismounting for active business, ablue-coat suddenly appeared upon the scene. The soldiers had reached themouth of the gorge, and Captain Knight had despatched him to find outwhat the firing he had heard, meant.

  It must be owned, this was a sufficiently curious question. As Arnoldnot unnaturally asked the sergeant, who addressed it to me:

  "What the devil could it mean?"

  I replied even more sharply:

  "You can see for yourself. If the Captain wishes to look at a littlereal Indian fighting, he's got a chance."

  Time and words were, at this moment, too valuable for me to waste anymore of them. I again turned to the work on hand, and the blue-coat rodeback. It may be suspected he was glad enough to do so, as Indian bulletsand arrows were at the time rather lively. We were left to finish theaffair, without the slightest assistance from the paid servants of UncleSam. As we subsequently had reason to know, this was not, however,owing to any want of courage on the part of Captain Knight. His men hadproved too cowardly to lend us a hand. They did not relish exposingthemselves to the Indians. Neither the angry commands nor threateningappeals of their indignant officer could in any way induce them to giveus an effective support.

  Wrathful as we not unnaturally felt, we had no opportunity at theinstant of discussing the matter with that righteous amount of Buncombe,which is, in similar cases, so gratifying to the average American mind.

  It should be mentioned, nevertheless, that one of the boys becamefearfully disgusted with the conduct of his paid protectors.

  Indeed, Mart Gilbert, for such was his name, jumped from behind the massof rock under which he was crouching. In his rage he actually executedan indignant _pas seul_, as I should in my earlier years have styled it,in the very face of the enemy. While displaying his maniacal agility, heroared out for any "darned red skunk" to show himself and fight him.None of those to whom he addressed himself, however, displayed any wishto accept his invitation. But, naturally enough, they thought they hadan excellent chance afforded them for picking him off. A regular stormof bullets and arrows rang and whistled round him.

  Fortune generally seems to have a sympathy with madness.

  It certainly had so in this instance. Not one of these missiles evenscraped his body. And before a second volley could be discharged at him,with, in all probability, a more successful result for the red-skins,Painter had crept to a point from which he could rake them a secondtime. This volley was delivered at short range and, as an officer ofthe regular army might say, destroyed their _morale_. As Bensubsequently thought proper to say, in a more vernacular phrase than Ichoose at present to employ, it impaired their digestion.

  Seeing the disorder into which they were thrown, I gave the boys theorder to advance.

  My words were not quite rapid enough. The boys Brighton Bill had withhim were once more in a position available for following the examplethose with Painter had set them.

  Demoralized as they were by the second volley, the red-skinsnevertheless exhibited what Saxons denominate pluck, and made a furiousrush upon the main body of their assailants, meeting us about half-wayup to their breastworks. Our work was now short and thorough.

  Harry and myself had not dismounted. He was a capital horseman, and rodein Comanche style, better even than I did. It was in this fashion thathe approached an old Indian who was literally hailing his arrows at us,and shot him from under the neck of his horse. Ridding his hand of therevolver which was attached to his wrist by a strap, he rushed theanimal past his prostrate enemy, and took his scalp very neatly, almostat the same instant recovering his seat.

  The red-skin, however, although dropped by Arnold's shot, very evidentlydisapproved of the loss of his hair. Raising himself from the ground,precisely at the moment when the former reappeared above the back of hishorse, he let fly another arrow.

  This struck Harry in the back of the neck, immediately behind thevertebral bones, passing directly through it for more than half itslength.

  No time was given the Indian for another shot, as I was sufficientlynear to settle him.

  "I say, Mose! lend me a hand."

  On looking round, I could not forbear laughing. The manner in which thearrow had passed through Arnold's neck compelled him to protrude hishead in front of him in such a strangely quaint fashion. Mirth wouldhave been compulsory, even in one at the point of death.

  Of course, while laughing, I had pulled out the unpleasant addition tohis muscular anatomy.

  Upon counting the bodies of the dead, we found seventeen. The remainderof the party had managed to effect an escape.

  After this we returned to the mouth of the gorge, where we did not findCaptain Knight and the blue-coats waiting for us. We felt considerablymortified by the fact, that although the slain red-skins might have beena portion of Smoke-creek Sam's band, he himself was, as decidedly, notamongst them.

  FOOTNOTE:

  [1] These stones are ranged in a circle or semicircle, to indicate thequarter of the moon. Within these, the number of fragments of rockcalendars the number of days from it. Other signs tell whether theseindications are left by a war or hunting party, and how many of themthere are. There are, besides, other marks, which tell whether the deeris in the velvet and all the changes it is subject to, which areinvaluable to the hunter who is able to read them.