disguise 'for the road.' My father had been doubled as a man by his mountain life, and he gave them a serious half hour's diversion; twice he got free, and laid about him with a long knife. At last, one shot and another stabbed him; and, either from rage at having been baffled, or to carry out their assumption of the Indian character, they scalped him. He had the fortitude to pretend to be dead as he suffered this outrage. In the encounter he had snatched away the scapulary worn by one ruffian, laid open the cheek of another, and wounded a third in the side. The latter might escape me; but I had a clue to the others. Then, urging me to bring these murderers to justice, my father expired, the storm overwhelming his latest prayer and blessing."

"I buried him under the hearthstone, and fired the ranche over his head, determined that no one should dwell in the house where his blood had mingled with the murderers'. I went to San Francisco, but those three bandits were laid up from the effects of the struggle, or in mere terror of me, for the authorities were not yet in power to punish even the notoriously criminal. I continued the search without discouragement, being rather a pertinacious man, till, one day, my Mexican friend, as he had been my father's, warned me that I was in error: these three men were now hunting me, having transferred their enmity from my father to my head: and, in fact, it was a wonder I had not yet fallen a victim in one of their vicious circles where I had penetrated. Being on my guard from this out, our warfare continued long without result. At last, I heard they had separated, and gone who knows where—over the mountains, on the sea, up in the mines? Besides, the Mexican had opened his house to me, a favour not often accorded an American by one who reckoned us invaders and heretics and no blessing to the country; and he had a fair daughter whom, in short, I wedded. I allowed my task of vengeance to rest, and the hatred of my foes seemed in the same way to be shelved."

"One summer, a French gentleman, who said he was on a scientific expedition, offered me remarkably handsome terms to be his guide to Oregon. I did not care to leave my wife, but my father-in-law was interested in the steamer line to the Columbia River, and I accepted the mission. However, a little over a week gave Monsieur all he wanted of roughing it in the sierras, and he said he had changed his mind, and wanted to back out. I made no difficulty, of course, and we took the back track merrily. When we left, and he handed me a forfeit, he said, kindly enough: 'I hope you will find Madame and the family all well at home!' and yet some presentiment made me take it as ironical."

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