port as much as her master, and run alongside the huge beast with great
courage and spirit. Many propositions were made to the warrior to sell
or exchange the animal; but he would not hear of it. The dumb brute was
his friend, his sole companion; they had both shared the dangers of
battle and the privations of prairie travelling; why should he part with
her? The fame of that mare extended so far, that in a trip he made to
San Francisco, several Mexicans offered him large sums of money;
nothing, however, could shake him in his resolution. In those
countries, though horses will often be purchased at the low price of one
dollar, it often happens that a steed, well-known as a good hunter or a
rapid pacer, will bring sums equal to those paid in England for a fine
race-horse.

One of the Mexicans, a wild young man, resolved to obtain the mare,
whether or no. One evening, when the Indian was returning from some
neighbouring plantation, the Mexican laid down in some bushes at a short
distance from the road, and moaned as if in the greatest pain. The good
and kind-hearted Indian having reached the spot, heard his cries of
distress, dismounted from his mare, and offered any assistance: it was
nearly dark, and although he knew the sufferer to be a Pale-face, yet he
could not distinguish his features. The Mexican begged for a drop of
water, and the Indian dashed into a neighbouring thicket to procure it
for him. As soon as the Indian was sufficiently distant, the Mexican
vaulted upon the mare, and apostrophised the Indian:--

"You fool of a Red-skin, not cunning enough for a Mexican: you refused
my gold; now I have the mare for nothing, and I will make the trappers
laugh when I tell them how easily I have outwitted a Shoshone."

The Indian looked at the Mexican for a few moments in silence, for his
heart was big, and the shameful treachery wounded him to the very core.
At last, he spoke:--

"Pale-face," said he, "for the sake of others, I may not kill thee.
Keep the mare, since thou art dishonest enough to steal the only
property of a poor man; keep her, but never say a word how thou camest
by her, lest hereafter a Shoshone, having learned distrust, should not
hearken to the voice of grief and woe. Away, away with her! let me
never see her again, or in an evil hour the desire of vengeance may make
a bad man of me."

The Mexican was wild, inconsiderate, and not over-scrupulous, but not
without feeling: he dismounted fr