men came in them. By and by came a long, black ship,
without sails, or oars, but with a great black and white smoke. I went
on board this vessel with one of my wives, the youngest and prettiest;
and here I saw the first white woman that came to my country. I liked
the white woman, and asked her to be my wife. She laughed, and said, 'go
ask the Cappen.' I asked the Cappen, but he would not hear. I offered
him many skins, and my new wife. He swore at me. I am sworn at and
laughed at for wanting wife with a white skin. White man take Indian
wife when he please. Nittinat has many wrongs; yet Nittinat has good
heart, all same. Bime-by big medicine-man come and make all right. White
man all melt away like snow on the mountain-side. Indian have plenty
house, plenty blankets, plenty eat--all, everything, all the time.
Good!"

"White wives included, I presume. Well," said Charlie, "I think this
interview might be brought to a close. Hold fast to Pierre and I, Fanny,
or the wizard may spirit you off to his wigwam, to inaugurate the good
time coming that he speaks of."

So saying, Charlie rose to his feet, stretched his limbs lazily, and
turned to disengage his sister's veil from a vicious thorn-bush in our
way. Not succeeding immediately, I lent my assistance, and the delicate
tissue being at last rescued with some care, turned to say farewell to
the chief of all the Nittinats, when lo! I addressed myself to space.

"The old cove has taken himself off as mysteriously as he came. That is
a confounded good trick; couldn't do it better myself. Does anybody miss
anything?" was Charlie's running comment on the transaction.

"Can't say that I do, unless it is my luncheon. I'm ravenously hungry,
and every sandwich gone. Could that dreadful old ghoul have eaten those
you gave him, Charlie? Do you know, I couldn't help thinking he must be
a ghost?"

"Well, the ghost of an Indian could eat, steal, and beg, I should think.
I felt like rattling his dry bones, when he so coolly confessed to the
most atrocious murders of white men."

"That is because you are not an Indian, I presume," said I, with a heavy
sense of conviction about what I gave expression to. "Indian virtue is
not white men's virtue. If it won you rank, and riches, and power, to
become a mighty slayer, a slayer you would undoubtedly become. A man,
even an Indian, is what his circumstances make him. The only way I can
conceive to make a first-class man, is to place him und