ut in the old mining camp, balanced the chances, counted the cost, and deliberately at last decided to be known as a murderer, and to become an outcast from the civilized world.
He stood with his moccasins down to the river's rim, and took my hand, as the Indian seated himself in the canoe and lifted his paddle.
"Come back," he said, "to the mountains. The world is fooling you. It will laugh and be amused to-day, as you dance before it in your youth, and sing wild songs, but to-morrow it will tire of the forest fragrance and the breath of the California lily; your green leaves will wither in the hot atmosphere of fashion, and in a year or two you will be more wretched than you can think; you will be neither mountaineer nor man of the world, but vibrate hopelessly between, and be at home in neither capacity. Come, be brave! It is no merit to leave the world when it has left you, and requires no courage; but now"
"Say no more," I cried, "I will come! Yonder, across the hills, where the morning sun is resting on the broad plateau, there among the oaks and pines, I will pitch a tent, and there take up my everlasting rest."
A pressure of the hand for the promise ; the canoe swung free, the Indian's paddle made eddies in the bright blue water, the horses blew the bubbles from their nostrils, and their long manes floated in the sweepi
