much about them. The current is pretty swift above, and the
river comes splashing down at a furious rate, tumbling over a
succession of cascades and churning itself white on the big
boulders which project from the river bed.”
“That must be fine,” said Jack, shaking the contents of his
pipe into the grate, ” but hurry up and get to the point. You’re
-telling me about this picture. ’ ’
‘‘Well, listen!” I replied somewhat impatiently, and then let
him wait while I deliberately filled and relighted my pipe,
“ Old sobersides like you have a notion that all Indians are old
and dirty and wrinkled. You cannot imagine any intermediate
between the papoose and the ‘ Big Injun ’; you think all the pretty
.Indian maidens are confined to poetry and legend, but that’s
where you make a big mistake.
“ When Eaton and I got all the pictures of the falls we wanted,
we started up the river. It was one of those mild, summer days
.when Nature invites one to lie down on the soft grass and listen
to the birds, and watch the clouds floating serenely overhead;
but the roar of the river, the.strangeness of our environment and
■especially our desire to snap some fresh scenery kept off the
lethargy. We strolled up along the river bank, stopping only
here and there to take some especially attractive view.
“ We had been walking possibly an hour, when Eaton, who was
ahead; suddenly stopped, and, turning around, to me, pointed to a
clump of firs a few rods in front..
‘■‘ Booking in the direction indicated, I could see through the
trees a very dirty old tent,, from, which smoke was raising.
r ‘‘.‘Put down your camera, ’ said my companion in a low tone.
‘‘He had already hidden his, and now we advanced stealthily
■toward,the tent. Stretched out in front, apparently dead drunk
and snoring like a whole army, was a very dirty buck. Within
the tent all was quiet, but between snores we could hear a rust
ling noise behind it. Very cautiously we approached the corner
and looked around.
i “ Say, Jack, if I’d try a year I never could tell you the sensa
tions aroused by the sight which met our eyes. Five yards away
sat one of the handsomest girls I ever saw. Dark as an Italian,
yes, she was a full blooded Indian, yet more graceful beauty than
hers you cannot imagine. A highly colored blanket was thrown
loosely around her, so as to give the greatest freedom of motion.
Her shoulders and arms were bare and, as she sat upon a low
The Free Lance.
[December,