th wind in winter, and the over-flowing stream
in the springtime. At the foot of the hill was a space of ground,
covered in summer with wild grass, but now denuded of every sign of
vegetation. This spot was chosen by the Indians for the holding of the
Council as being half way between the two settlements. Here, too, the
earth was dry, free from the mud which was found so abundantly
elsewhere. Near by stood several fir trees, gaunt and half dead,
through whose naked branches the storms had howled for many years.

It was a bright spring day, and the sun riding high poured its hot
beams upon the land. Masses of fleecy clouds drifted overhead, and
early-returned birds flitted through the air or chirped and twittered
among the trees. Everything in Nature spoke of peace; peace in the
great blue vault above; peace in the air, and peace on earth. Most
fitting was the day for men of different tongues, different races and
different modes of life to meet together in sacred Council for the
settling of their disputes.

No intimation was given, no sign was vouchsafed to the miners as they
gathered there, that miles up the river millions of tons of water were
ready to burst their bonds, and sweep down upon them their fearful
besom of destruction.

It was late ere the Indians arrived, and the miners became much
impatient. When at length they did appear, they seemed to the white
men like an army marching to battle. The old chief led the way with
uncertain steps. Behind him came scores of hunters, great, stalwart
men some of them, regular Anaks in girth and stature.

They were a proud race of men, unsubdued and untarnished by contact
with civilization. And good reason was there for their proud bearing
and firm, elastic step as they moved along the trail. Was not the land
theirs? Had they not received it from a long line of ancestors? No
sword had ever conquered them, and no foreign yoke had ever been placed
upon their necks. The birds of the air, the fishes of the streams, the
lordly moose of the forests, and the bighorn sheep of the
mountains--all were theirs. And so they came to the Council, not as
suppliants, not as beggars, but as free men, in whose veins flowed the
blood of a race which will break, but not bend. How many, oh, how many
before them, throughout the length and breadth of North America, had
drawn near in the same spirit to greet their pale-face brothers in open
Council. They too had assembled with w