The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-04-03

pines, ana al the lower edge of the snow line, where water-that indispens- able need of camp life-was fully sup piled by melting snow, It overlooked the long narrow strip of valley, marked by yellow line of dried grass and reeds, which far away down the valley is lost 1 to view in Lake Pah-ranagat. The sil- ! yer sheen of the waters of the lake. as seen in the distance on clear day, may , have i'll bygone times suggested to the 1 Indian mind the name by which the valley is now known; for Pah-ranagat Is purely an Indian name, and one which ] in the Piute dialect signifies shining 1 water the Valley of the Shining Water : "a name which, at least, reflects no lit ! tie credit on the poetic faculty of the Indian dwellers in this valley of the { mountains After all it Is a pleasant thought, that in the past that little strip of fertility. with its grass -hordered streams, has been an Indian paradise.
 Our camp on the mountain, as it hap : pened was not far from the wickyups of 1 Pah-Wichit the Indian chiet, and his band, who at that time, with women and children, were supposed to number some two hundred persons. the most of
  ] at the springs near the head of the val i lev Pah-Wichit, as we had occasion to know. looked upon the valley and it's ncishhorhood a> d kind of Naboth' vine yard and of great price
 Hewas unable at first to comprehend i just what it was that had induced Us to come to this country Although never quite understood his iargon, yet one ! could occasionally catch at his meaning
 He said. You Merryeats, "a name they saw lit to give us. what for you come to our country digginEup stones and your ponies eating up the grass m ] the valley. and next summer, perhaps. ] destroying our corn and melon patches
 In fact, they seemed disposed to con strur our visit to their country to our dctriment and as their good will in the l joint occupancy of their domain was cS- sential in the case, therefore We must needs be conciliatory in all intercourse with them They must be fed to keep i them good-naturcd; and what if, after all they should see fit to forciblv coniis- cate our grub stake, and drive Us forth into the wilderness to starvr? The ease was serious, for at that time We knew that what little grass seed and corn they had gathered in the autumn, and stored away in sundry holes in the ground near their wiekyups had been nearly exhausted, and they Were driven in some cases to such sustenance as roasted liz ards afforded
 Aside from the climate nature in this wilderness seemed so very clos,-iisted i that II was really mystery how these i i,,tt;a,,., bare subsistence For there was no wild game around by which either an Indian or white man might at a pinch eke out a failing stock of provisions The only wild animals that gave any sign of their presence were the coyotes, and they Were so hungry that We had to sling. our eatahles by a rope, and hoist them up a tree out of their reach They often invaded our camp in the darkness, and once they carried off some greasy knives that by chance had been left lying about. and after securing the grease and tnd- ing what remained wanting in flavor. they wisely dropped them where we picked them up the next morning It would have been well if no more serious consequences had followed the invasion of our camp by hungry Indians than in the ease of the coyotes
 Not that the Indians actually set upon us and forced Us to do battle for the bread of our life; but it might happen that, rendered desperate by hunger, they | n,,gM do it. Therefore, 1t was on our part an act of prudence to purchase their good will by generously feeding them at all events, it Was far better to feed them than to fight them though the price We paid, when measured by the enormous capacity of Indian stoin- 7 'hs seemed not a little cxorhtant
 There was on. in particular, an old man who WAS privileged guest at our camp His head. with its ample stock of hair was silvcrcd by age, hence he was known among Us as old Silvcr-top He was always ready to pay hi. way by gathering wood for the camp fire, driv- ing up the ponies. or any other little necessary chorc It io u ,trange thing that he d"crepit old Piutc should have been SO distinctly photographed on my memory There was not little that was singular about him His face, though thin and withered, was nevcrthe- less very expressive There was a cer- tam indcscrlhable Jollltv that shone out through his homcly features The old man, at d guess, might have seen eighty wears but there was nothing venerable about him. He was tall and straight, and quite unbent by weight of years seem to see him now, sitting with u- around the camp fire each one smoking his pipe and enjoying the blaze while he was the butt of many joke He was a great smoker. and smoked his own tq4aop Undian wild tobaeco) He was clothed as they all were, except their chief, in brcech clout, with d robe of coyote skins wrapped around him i'll primitive fashion, bare-lcgged and bare headed To be sure the cold was never severe. but still the clothing wa- little enough to shield any Indian from an occasional cold blast much less one like him, in the chill decline of life.
 IL happened on one occasion that he