nd savagery of Indian
life seemed so repellent as now, when he came back to it with his mind
full of Wallulah's grace and loveliness. It was harsh discord after
music.

Stripped and painted barbarians were hallooing, feasting, dancing; the
whole camp was alive with boisterous hilarity, the result of a day of
good fellowship. Mothers were calling their children in the dusk and
young men were sportively answering, "Here I am, mother." Here and
there, Indians who had been feasting all day lay like gorged anacondas
beside the remnant of their meal; others, who had been gambling, were
talking loudly of the results of the game.

Through it all the white man walked with swift footsteps, looking
neither to the right nor the left, till he gained his lodge. He flung
himself on his bed and lay there, his fingers strained together
convulsively, his nerves throbbing with pain; vainly struggling with
regret, vainly repeating to himself that he cared nothing for love and
home, that he had put all those things from him, that he was engrossed
now only in his work.

"Never, never! It can never be."

* * * * *

And the English exploring-ship in Yaquina Bay was to weigh anchor on
the morrow, and sail up nearer along the unknown coast. The Indians
had all deserted the sea-board for the council. Would Cecil hear?
Would any one see the sail and bring the news?

[Illustration: "_I Will kill him!_"]

CHAPTER III.

CECIL AND THE WAR-CHIEF.

Children of the sun, with whom revenge is virtue.

YOUNG.

On the next day came the races, the great diversion of the Indians.
Each tribe ran only one horse,--the best it had. There were thirty
tribes or bands, each with its choicest racer on the track. The Puget
Sound and lower Columbia Indians, being destitute of horses, were not
represented. There had been races every day on a small scale, but they
were only private trials of speed, while to-day was the great day of
racing for all the tribes, the day when the head chiefs ran their
horses.

The competition was close, but Snoqualmie the Cayuse won the day. He
rode the fine black horse he had taken from the Bannock he had
tortured to death. Multnomah and the chiefs were present, and the
victory was won under the eyes of all the tribes. The haughty,
insolent Cayuse felt that he had gained a splendid success. Only, as
in the el