Part 15 (2/2)

At one place sat an old warrior fro off the little scales of flint with infinite patience, literally _wearing_ the stone into the requisite shape

Beside hiht fro the lower Coluends with little ends, piercing each with a bodkin, and sewing the bone needle threaded with buckskin or sinew Others eaving that water-tight wickerhich was, perhaps, the highest art to which the Oregon Indians ever attained Here a band of Indians were cooking, feasting, laughing, shouting around a huge sturgeon captured the night before

There a circle of ga a s whose hand contained it,--singing as they played that monotonous ”ho-ha, ho-ha, ho-ha,”

which was the inseparable acco

Anity he had acquired fro intercourse with the Indians Wherever he went there was silence and respect, for was he not the great white e of the stick and the monotone of the chant to look and to coaze and to question; children who had been buildingbark canoes in the puddles, ran away at his approach and took shelter in the thickets, watching hi black eyes

Wherever there was opportunity, he stopped and talked, scattering seed-thoughts in the dark ather; whenever he entered a alance for a moment into the do

He enters one of the large bark huts of the Willa sixty or seventy persons

The part around the door is painted to represent a h the hty or a hundred feet long by twenty wide, with rows of rude bunks rising tier above tier on either side In the centre are the stones and ashes of the hearth; above is an aperture in the roof for the escape of smoke; around the hearth round, hard and trodden, forms the only floor, and the roof is es

Cecil enters and stands a moment in silence; then the head of the house advances and welcomes hiht,--pounded fish, nuts, and berries, and a kind of bread ether, and cut in slices when cold All this is served on a wooden platter, and he rossest affront that could be offered a Willamette host, especially if it were presented by his own hands The highest honor that a western Oregon Indian could do his guest was to wait on hi his squaw do it The Indian host stands beside Cecil and says, in good-humored hospitality, ”Eat, eat much,” nor is he quite pleased if he thinks that his visitor slights the offered food When the guest can be no longer persuaded to eat more, the food is removed, the platter is washed in water, and dried with a wisp of twisted grass; a small treasure of tobacco is produced from a little buckskin pocket and a part of it carefully mixed with dried leaves;[10] the pipe is filled and smoked Then, and not till then, may the Indian host listen to the talk of the white e; he must first eat, be it ever so little Two centuries later, the Methodist and Congregational missionaries found the the Rocky Mountain Indians[11] Nay, they need not visit a ae, and if they were popular and the caers would co the laconic invitation, ”Coive offence, even though he had already gone to half a dozen ari fresh buffalo-ion until he is like to burst, and yet heroically going forth to choke down a few mouthfuls more, lest he offend some dusky convert

At one house Cecil witnessed a painful yet coa as e where the brother of the head ht hoay in Indian finery, the first did not manifest the sisterly spirit proper for the occasion After sitting awhile in sullen silence, she arose and began to kick the fire about, accoutteral excla, which chanced to be in the way, sending it yelping froan to scold her husband, who listened gri At last she turned on her new-found sister, struck her, and began to lay rending hands on the finery that their iven her That was instantly resented; and in a few , scratching, and pulling each other's hair with the fury of devils incarnate The dogs, attracted by the tuan to bark at the in and laughing; the husband conte at his feet, and then looked at Cecil It was undoubtedly trying to Indian dignity but the warrior sustained his admirably ”Bad, very bad,” was the only comment he allowed himself to make Cecil took his leave, and the brave kept up his air of indifference until the white el from the heap of fire-wood by the doorway, and in a short tie not far away, Cecil witnessed another scene yeton the ground near the fire, surrounded by a quantity of fish-bones which he had been picking He was hter of a nu around him His mother sat by in the most cruel apathy and unconcern, and only smiled when Cecil expressed commiseration for her unfortunate and peculiarly unhappy child It had been neglected and seemed almost starved Those around apparently took pleasure in tor itto it insulting and degrading epithets The little articles that Cecil gave to it, in the hope that the Indians seeing him manifest an interest in it would treat ittheust Cecil turned away sick at heart Worn, already weary, this last sight was intolerable; and he went out into the woods, away fro he seeain, so vividly had it iination It rose before him in the wood, when the noise of the cahtless eyes upon hi for help[12]

Out in the wood he ca, his face buried in his hands, his attitude indicating sickness or despondency

He looked up as Cecil approached It was the young Willamette runner who had been his coard; he was evidently very sick The missionary stopped and tried to talk with him, but could evoke little response, except that he did not want to talk, and that he wanted to be left alone He seeht it best to leave hi with a sick Indian was veryup a wounded rattlesnake So he left the runner and went on into the forest, seeking the solitude without which he could scarcely have lived a barbarism around him His spirit required frequent communion with God and Nature, else he would have died of weariness and sickness of heart

Wandering listlessly, he went on further and further fro of what lay before him, or of the wild sweet destiny to which that dih the shadoood

[10] Lewis and Clark

[11] See Parkon

[12] See Townsend's Narrative, pages 182-183

CHAPTER II

THE WHITE WOMAN IN THE WOOD

I seek a sail that never loo eve, or in the noontide's blaze