nto the circle, and placed at the right hand of Saltese. He
was familiar with the Chinook jargon, and could understand every word
spoken in the council. Saltese made known the grievance of the tribes.
Two Indians had been captured by a party of white pioneers and hanged
for theft. Retaliation for this outrage seemed indispensable. The
chiefs pondered long, but had little to say. McClellan had been on
friendly terms with them, and was not responsible for the forest
executions. Still, he was a white man, and the chiefs had vowed
vengeance against the race. The council was prolonged for hours before
sentence was passed, and then Saltese, in the name of the head men of
the tribes, decreed that McClellan should immediately be put to death
in retaliation for the hanging of the two Indian thieves.

McClellan had said nothing. He had known that argument and pleas for
justice or mercy would be of no avail. He had sat motionless,
apparently indifferent to his fate. By his listlessness he had thrown
his captors off their guard. When the sentence was passed he acted
like a flash. Flinging his left arm around the neck of Saltese, he
whipped out his revolver and held it close to the chief's temple.
"Revoke that sentence, or I shall kill you this instant!" he cried,
with his fingers clicking the trigger. "I revoke it!" exclaimed
Saltese, fairly livid from fear. "I must have your word that I can
leave this council in safety." "You have the word of Saltese," was the
quick response. McClellan knew how sacred was the pledge which he had
received. The revolver was lowered. Saltese was released from the
embrace of the strong arm. McClellan strode out of the tent with his
revolver in his hand. Not a hand was raised against him. He mounted
his horse and rode to his camp, where his two followers were ready to
spring into the saddle and to escape from the villages. He owed his
life to his quickness of perception, and to his accurate knowledge of
Indian character.

In 1866, Rufus Choate spoke to an audience of nearly five thousand in
Lowell in favor of the candidacy of James Buchanan for the presidency.
The floor of the great hall began to sink, settling more and more as he
proceeded with his address, until a sound of cracking timber below
would have precipitated a stampede with fatal results but for the
coolness of B. F. Butler, who presided. Telling the people to remain
quiet, he said that he would see if there were any