he surrounding mountains. I was
accompanied by a faithful friend, my rifle, the only friend indeed on
whose prompt assistance in time of trouble I could implicitly rely. Most
of the Indians in the village, it is true, professed good-will toward
the whites, but the experience of others and my own observation had
taught me the extreme folly of confidence, and the utter impossibility
of foreseeing to what sudden acts the strange unbridled impulses of an
Indian may urge him. When among this people danger is never so near as
when you are unprepared for it, never so remote as when you are armed
and on the alert to meet it any moment. Nothing offers so strong a
temptation to their ferocious instincts as the appearance of timidity,
weakness, or security.

Many deep and gloomy gorges, choked with trees and bushes, opened from
the sides of the hills, which were shaggy with forests wherever the
rocks permitted vegetation to spring. A great number of Indians were
stalking along the edges of the woods, and boys were whooping and
laughing on the mountain-sides, practicing eye and hand, and indulging
their destructive propensities by following birds and small animals
and killing them with their little bows and arrows. There was one glen,
stretching up between steep cliffs far into the bosom of the mountain. I
began to ascend along its bottom, pushing my way onward among the rocks,
trees, and bushes that obstructed it. A slender thread of water trickled
along its center, which since issuing from the heart of its native rock
could scarcely have been warmed or gladdened by a ray of sunshine. After
advancing for some time, I conceived myself to be entirely alone;
but coming to a part of the glen in a great measure free of trees and
undergrowth, I saw at some distance the black head and red shoulders of
an Indian among the bushes above. The reader need not prepare himself
for a startling adventure, for I have none to relate. The head and
shoulders belonged to Mene-Seela, my best friend in the village. As
I had approached noiselessly with my moccasined feet, the old man was
quite unconscious of my presence; and turning to a point where I could
gain an unobstructed view of him, I saw him seated alone, immovable as
a statue, among the rocks and trees. His face was turned upward, and
his eyes seemed riveted on a pine tree springing from a cleft in the
precipice above. The crest of the pine was swaying to and fro in the
wind, and its long limbs