the occasion for which I longed. But in
this regard fortune did not favor me; I was always too closely watched
to make the attempt with any hope of success; and it was not long before
I satisfied myself, that even if I should succeed in getting clear of
the valley, there was very little chance of my finding my way back to
civilization. Gazing from the summit of one of the "spurs" of the
mountain range east of the valley, I found my path to liberty barred by
the desert, which stretched for many miles to the north and east.
Southward, the prospect was scarcely more inviting; the country was
almost equally barren, although more broken, and affording a better
chance for concealment. But I knew that the expert Indian "trackers"
would find my trail, no matter what course I might take; and an attempt
to escape on foot could only result in my being overtaken, brought back,
and probably tortured; for not even the influence of the high-priest
himself would avail to save me, if detected in an effort to escape. With
a good horse, success was possible; although it was an open question,
whether I would be able to find my way through a country of which I knew
so little. It seemed far more probable that I would either perish in the
desert, or only survive its dangers to fall into the hands of other
savages, more cruel and relentless than the tribe of which I had become
an unwilling member. So I reluctantly concluded that the idea of flight
must be abandoned, unless unforeseen circumstances should arise, giving
me a far better opportunity then had as yet offered. That I should ever
meet with such an occasion, however, was altogether unlikely; and in
time, the very thought of escape was almost entirely banished from my
mind.

In the autumn of the second year of my captivity, the monotony of my
existence was broken by a rather exciting adventure; and as it is the
only experience of the kind I ever met with, I will briefly narrate it.

In company with Wakometkla, I had gone in the early morning to the lower
end of the valley to procure an herb, called by the Camanches "Iakara,"
which grew in great abundance along the sides of the cliffs. Hitherto we
had been able to gather it at a short distance from the village, but
having used it in large quantities, we had stripped the shrubbery on
both sides of the valley of all that was fit for use, and were every day
compelled to go to a greater distance, in order to obtain it in
sufficient quantit