emed to
lay almost at our feet. This mountain air, in fact, all the atmosphere of the Far West, is delusive to a stranger, but this of the Sierras, and at that par ticular time, was peculiarly so. A tall, slanting, swaying column seemed to rise before us not five miles away. It was the smoke of an Indian camp, at least twenty-five miles distant.
We were full of fire, youth, and strength. We had been resting long in camp, and now wanted to throw off our lethargy.
u Let us go down," I said in a spirit of banter, yet really wishing to descend.
"Go!" cried the Indians in chorus. "To-ka-do; we will follow." And I slid down the mountain, laughing like a school-boy at play.
This was a turning-point in my life, taken without the least reflection or one moment s thought. Energy makes leaders, but it takes more than energy to make a successful leader.
Before night we sat down on a little hill over looking the camp not a mile away.
I had no plan. It was while sitting here waiting for darkness before venturing further, that one of the Indians asked me what I proposed to do. I did not know myself, but told him we would take a look at the camp so soon as it got dark and then go home.
We looked at the camp, more than a thousand strong. Indians keep no guard at night. They surrender themselves to the great, sad
