are
of idiotic wonder peculiar to the humbler classes of countries called
civilised. We managed to withstand the ordeal of their scrutiny with an
assumed air of true savage indifference. Not without an effort,
however: since it was difficult to resist laughing at the grotesque
exclamations and speeches, which our appearance and movements elicited
from these wondering yokels. We were cautious not to notice their
remarks--appearing as if we understood them not. Peg-leg, by the aid of
his Anglo-American jargon--picked up among the mountain-men--was able to
satisfy them with an occasional reply. The rest of us said nothing;
but, to all appearance earnestly occupied with our own affairs, only by
stealth turned our eyes on the spectators. I could perceive that the
huntress was the chief attraction; and for a moment my apprehensions
were sufficiently keen. The girl had done nothing to disguise her sex--
the mask extending no farther than to her face and features. Her neck,
hands, and wrists--all of her skin that might be exposed--were stained
Indian of course; and there would have been little likelihood of their
detecting the false epidermis under a casual observation. Had it been a
mere ordinary person--painted as she was--she might have passed for an
Indian without difficulty. As it was, however, her voluptuous beauty
had tempted a closer scrutiny; and, spite of her disfigured features, I
saw glances directed upon her expressive of secret but passionate
observation. Some of the bystanders took no pains to conceal their
predilection.

"Darnationed likely squaw!" remarked one. "Who air she, old
timber-toes?" inquired he, addressing himself to the guide. "Squaw--
Utah gal," replied the Mexican in his trapper patois. Pointing to me,
he continued: "She sister to hunter-chief--she hunter too--kill bighorn,
buffalo, deer. _Carrambo! si_! She grand _cazadora_!"

"Oh! durn yer kezedora. I don' know, what that ere means; but I do
know, an' rayther calculate, if that ere squaw had the scrubbin'-brush
an' a leetle soft soap over that face o' hern, she'd look some punkins,
I guess."

The fellow who had thus eloquently delivered himself was one of the six
who had saluted us on our arrival. Two or three of his _confreres_ were
standing beside him--gazing with lynx, or rather wolf-like glances upon
the girl. Stebbins himself, before parting, had cast upon her a look of
singular expression. It was not significant of re