THE Blackfoot was gratified to find himself able to understand the jargon spoken by the visitors, although he did not know to what tribe they belonged. A marked similarity showed between many words in the two tongues, and conversation progressed better than would have been supposed, Deerfoot being able to comprehend almost as much as his friend.

Night was closing in, and the fact that the explorers did not start a fire when such an abundance of fuel was at hand clearly surprised the strangers. They looked at the ground and then pointed to the lumber. He who was apparently the leader began talking earnestly to Mul-tal-la. His meaning soon became clear. He was urging him and his friends to make use of the timber. The Blackfoot shook his head and replied they could not take it without the consent of the owner. The leader grinned and said it belonged to him and the two men with him.

That put another face on the matter. Deerfoot told the boys to go to work and bring all the wood they needed. He sympathized with them, but he would not yield on a question of principle. It need not be said that the brothers did not let the grass grow under their feet. It was almost cold enough for ice, but, more than all, they needed the fire for cooking the salmon that had been taken from the stream.

The visitors became very friendly. They were armed with bows and arrows, and showed a willingness to help in gathering fuel, but their offer was declined, and the steel and tinder—another source of astonishment to them—soon set a vigorous blaze going, and the broiling fish sent out a fragrant and appetizing odor. There was an abundance for all, and the visitors accepted the invitation to join in the meal. They ate sparingly, as if afraid of depriving their hosts of what they needed, and when through, each produced a long-stemmed pipe, filled it with tobacco, and smoked with apparent enjoyment.

The strangers remained for an hour after the meal. Then, having smoked all that was in the bowls, they gravely shook out the ashes, carefully stowed the pipes under their blankets, and rose to go. The leader beckoned to Mul-tal-la to accompany him for a few paces, so as to be beyond hearing of his friends. The Blackfoot complied, and the conversation between the two may be thus liberally interpreted:

“A bad Indian lives down the river,” said the visitor.

Mul-tal-la agreed to the statement by a nod of his head.

“He catches a great many salmon.”

“I observe that he isn’t the only Indian who does that.”

“I do not like him.”

“I am sure my friend has good reason not to like him. He must be very bad.”

“I owe him much ill-will. He will be mad when he comes to build him a home to use while he gathers salmon.”

“Why will he be mad?”

“Because the lumber you have used belonged to him, and he is gone so far away that you and your friends cannot pay him for the wood; therefore he will be mad when he comes here again.”

“I should think he would boil over. Who can blame him?”

Having delivered himself of this interesting information, the visitor signed to his companions, and the three strode off and were seen no more.

The humor of the thing struck Mul-tal-la, and he grinned while telling his story to Deerfoot and the boys. The Shawanoe was displeased, but had sufficient philosophy to see that there was no help for it. The wood had been burned, the food prepared and eaten, and though they might refrain from consuming more fuel—as they did—the mischief could not be undone.

“I’m trying my best to feel bad over it,” chuckled Victor to his brother; “but somehow or other I can’t.”

“That’s because you don’t feel as conscientious as Deerfoot.”

“How is it with you?”

“I feel exactly like you; so let’s say no more about it.”

There is no end to the salmon in the Columbia River. At numerous islands mat houses were seen where the people were as busy as beavers in splitting and drying the fish. Looking down in the clear water they could be seen twenty feet below the surface, sometimes moving slowly and then darting hither and thither so swiftly that they looked like flitting patches of shadow. They floated down stream at this season in such enormous quantities that winrows drifted ashore and the Indians had only to gather, split and dry them on the scaffolds. Some of the people explained by signs that, owing to the scarcity of wood, they often used the dried fish for fuel. The material for the scaffolds must have been brought from a considerable distance, for no suitable wood was seen for many a mile.

As our friends descended the Columbia they were compelled at times to make portages around the more difficult passages. The canoe with its contents was carried on the shoulders of the four, who thus lightened what otherwise would have been a heavy burden. Landing on a small island the explorers came upon an interesting vault which was used by the Pishquitpahs for the burial of their dead.

Large forked sticks had been driven into the ground at about a man’s height, and a ridge-pole, fifty feet long, rested upon them. Over this were placed pieces of canoes and boards, which slanted down to the eaves, and thus formed a shed that was open at both ends. Impressed by the sight, the visitors peeped into the interior. Bodies wrapped in skin robes were arranged in rows, over which a mat was spread. Farther on skeletons were seen, and in the middle of the building was a large pile of bones thrown together without regard to order. On a mat at one end of the structure were a score of skulls placed in the form of a circle. The method of these people was first to wrap a body in robes and, after it had decayed, to throw the bones in a heap and put the skulls together.

That the friends of the departed kept them in remembrance was shown by the numerous fishing nets, wooden bowls, blankets, robes, skins and trinkets suspended from under the roof. The sight of numerous skeletons of horses near at hand indicated that the Pishquitpahs sacrificed them to their dead.

The manner in which the Indian tribes of the Columbia formerly dried and packed their salmon may be thus described:

The fish were first opened and exposed to the sun on the scaffolds. There they remained until perfectly dry, when they were pulverized by pounding between stones, and then were placed in a large basket, made of............