Part 29 (1/2)

A large canoe was filled with pitch and with pine-knots,--the on forest could furnish Upon them was heaped all that was left of the chief's riches, all the silks and velvets that reo of the shi+pwrecked vessel lost upon the coast long before And finally, upon the splendid heap of textures, upon the laces and the damasks of the East, was laid the dead body of Multnomah, dressed in buckskin; his moccasins on his feet, his to on his last journey

Then as night caloom, the canoe was taken out into the main current of the Columbia, and fire was set to the dry knots that made up the funeral pyre In an instant the contents of the canoe were in a blaze, and it was set adrift in the current Down the river it floated, lighting the night with leaping flames On the shore, the assembled tribe watched it in silence, reat chief borne fro water and level beach, were brought into startling relief against the background of night, as the burning vessel neared them; then sank into shadow as it passed onward Overhead, the playing tongues of fire reddened the s dense over the water, and made it assume distorted and fantastic shapes, which ht, and to the Indians see out their arms to receive the soul of Multnomah

”It is the dead people come for him,” the Willamettes whispered to one another, as they stood upon the bank, watching the canoe drift farther and farther froht and shadow over it

Down the river, like so the shadoays of death, passed the burning canoe Rounding a wooded point, it blazed a moment brilliantly beside it, and as it drifted to the farther side, outlined the intervening trees with fire, till every branch was clearly relieved against a fla slowly on beyond the point, the light waned gradually, and at last faded quite away

And not till then was a sound heard a on the river-bank But when the burning canoe had vanished utterly, when black and starless night fell again on wood and water, the death-wail burst from the Indians with one ireat tribe's lalory that had drifted fro a superstitious race, every fact becoed with fantasticthe Indians, no one could tell how, a prophecy that soreat light would be seenon the waters of the Columbia, and the war-chief would come back in a canoe of fire to lead therew their need as the days went on; swift and sweeping was the end Long did the few survivors of his race watch and wait for his return,--but never more came back Multnomah to his own

CHAPTER V

AS WAS WRIT IN THE BOOK OF FATE

A land of old upheaven frootten peoples dwelt

TENNYSON

And now our tale draws to a close There remains but to tell how the last council was held on Wappatto Island; how Mishlah the Cougar, chief of the Mollalies, died; and how the prophecy of the Bridge was fulfilled

Theafter the obsequies of Multnoreat council of the tribes had been held only a feeeks before The leaves, which had been green and glossy then, were turning yellow and sickly now in the close hot weather All Nature seerouped before the vacant seat of Multnoathered from canyon and prairie and fishery, looked on, sole spectators of the proceedings,--for none of the allies were present The ravages of the pestilence had been terrible Many warriors werefrom the spectators; many chiefs were absent from the council And there were some present from whom the others shrunk ahose hot breath and livid faces showed that they too were stricken with the plague There were eaunt fored the of the wo of thetheir incantations over the sick; theforest and the volcano,--all these were heard Round the council the s out the light of heaven and thein silence, each waiting for the other to speak

At length arose a stately warrior fa the Willamettes for wisdom and prudence

”We perish,” said the chief, ”we melt away before the breath of the pestilence, like snow before the breath of the wares, war gathers against us beyond the ranges Even now the bands of our ene the mountains, and the tomahawk may smite what the disease has spared

What is to be done? What say the wise chiefs of the Willamettes?

Multnomah's seat is ehastly chief rose to reply It was evident that he was in the last extremity of disease

”Shall we choose another war-chief to sit in Multnolory of the Willath is gone froainst us Let those who are to live talk of war It is time for us to learn how to die”

He sunk flushed and exhausted upon the ground Then rose an aged chief, so old that it seemed as if a century of tiray, his eyes dull and sunken, his face withered He supported himself with tremulous bony hands upon his staff His voice was feeble, and see-perished past

”I am old, the oldest of all the Willamettes I have seen so many winters that no man can count them I knew Multnomah's father I went forth to battle with his father's father; and even before that I knew others, warriors of a forgotten tiht of the time that I have lived is very heavy, and my mind sinks under it My form is boith the burden of winters Warriors, I have seen many councils, many troubles, but never a trouble like this

Of what use is your council? Can the words of wise e of the toainst the Great Spirit? He sent the white man to tell us of our sins and warn us to be better, and you closed your ears and would not listen

Nay, you would have slain his would not have come upon us had you listened to the white _shaman_ You have offended the Great Spirit, and he has broken the Bridge and sent disease upon us; and all that your wisdoht to stay his wrath You can but cover your faces in silence, and die”

For a moment the council was very still Theand tender eloquence, his fearless denunciation, his loving and passionate appeal, was on thery with the?” said a fierce warrior, starting to his feet

”Leave that to women and sickwithin us? The valley is shadoith death; the air is disease; an awful sickness wastes the people; our enes and wait for death? No