1river were richer than they had ever been even in their dreams.
To Quillis and his people, however, the inquiry that suggested itself to the sportsmen who found four pounds of bread and ten gallons of whisky in their camp luggage, soon suggested itself," What did they want so much bread for?" A lot of flour was promptly exchanged for a sixty -gallon barrel of whisky, and Ingersoll never sang the song of the oaken barrel half as joyously as the Indians did.
It was the last great feast of the Columbia River Indians, Only one thing marred its joyousness and this was temporary. Old Quillis was a wise old chap, and as the whisky brightened up his intelled it occurred to him that the barrel of whisky would last one Indian longer than it would the tribe, so he quietly stole the
