long,--that I was reminded of what some of the early
explorers said, that no two nations of Europe differed more widely from
each other than the different tribes of Indians.

One day we met an Spokane Indian, of very striking appearance, with a
face like Dante's, but with a happier expression. He was most becomingly
clothed in white blankets, compactly folded about him, with two or three
narrow red stripes across his bonnet of the same material, which had a
red peaked border, completely encircling the face, like an Irishwoman's
night-cap, or rather day-cap, but much more picturesque. He was scouring
the hills and plains between the Snake and Spokane Rivers, mounted on a
gay little pony, in search of stolen horses. Upon being questioned as to
his abiding-place, he informed us that he did not live anywhere.

We saw some representatives of another tribe of Indians, the Snakes.
They call themselves Shoshones, which means only "inland Indians." The
white people called them Snakes, probably because of their marvellous
power of eluding pursuit, by crawling off in the long grass, or diving
in the water. They seemed more wild and agile than any we had seen. The
Snakes were a very numerous tribe when the traders first came among
them. When questioned as to their number, by the agents of "The Great
White Chief," they said, "It is the same as the stars in the sky." They
were a proud, independent people, living mostly on the plains, hunting
the buffalo. They kept no canoes; depending only on temporary rafts of
bulrushes or willows, if not convenient to ford or swim across the
streams. They were the only Indians of this part of the country who had
any knowledge of working in clay,--their necessities obliging them to
make rude jugs in which to carry water across the bare plains. The
mountain Snakes were outlaws, enemies to all other tribes. They lived in
bands, in rocky caverns; and were said to have a wonderful power of
imitating all sounds of nature, from the singing of birds to the howling
of wolves,--by this means diverting attention from themselves, and
escaping detection in their roving, predatory expeditions.

When we reached the ferry on the Snake River, we saw some Indians
swimming their horses across. They were a bunting-party of Spokanes and
Nez Perces. Strapped on to one of the horses, with a roll of blankets,
was a Nez Perces baby. This infant, though apparently not over a year
and a half old, sat erect, grasping the re