ich amply repaid me for all the sarcasm, by suggesting a change of
their name for me,--my old appellation, "Il Lepero," being abandoned for
"Il Conde," the Count. It matters little in what spirit you give a man a
peculiar designation: the world take it up in their own fashion, and he
himself conforms to it, whether for good or evil.

As the "Conde," I doubtless displayed many a laughable affectation, and
did many things in open caricature of the title; but, on the other hand,
the name spurred me on to actions of most perilous daring, and made me
confront danger for the very sake of the hazard; till, by degrees, I saw
that the designation conferred upon me--at first in mockery--became a
mark of honorable esteem among my comrades.

The prairie was fruitful in incidents to test my courage. As the season
wore on, and game became more scarce, we were compelled to pursue the
"bison" into distant tracks, verging upon the hunting-grounds of an
Indian tribe called the Camanches. At first our "rencontres" were
confined to meeting with a scout or some small outlying party of the
tribe; but later on we ventured farther within their frontier, and upon
one occasion we penetrated a long and winding ravine which expanded into
a small plain, in the midst of which, to our amazement, we beheld their
village.

The scene was in every way a striking one. It was a few minutes after
sunset, and while yet the "yellow glory" of the hour bathed the earth,
that we saw the cane wigwams of the "Camanches" as they stood at either
side of a little river that, with many a curve, meandered through the
plain. Some squaws were seated on the banks, and a number of children
were sporting in the stream, which appeared too shallow for swimming.
Here and there, at the door of the wigwams, an old man was sitting
smoking. Some mustangs, seemingly fresh caught, were picketed in a
circle, and a few boys were amusing themselves, tormenting the animals
into bounds and curvets, the laughter the sport excited being audible
where we stood. The soft influence of the hour, the placid beauty of the
picture, the semblance of tranquil security impressed on everything,
the very childish gambols,--were all images so full of home and homelike
memories that we halted and gazed on the scene in speechless emotion.
Perhaps each of us at that moment had traversed in imagination half a
world of space, and was once again a child! As for myself, infancy
had been "no fairy dream," an