Sketch of the Life of Mr, David Douglas, 205' 



" port of my gun brought eight Indians, all of them painted with 

 " red earth, armed with bows, arrows, bone tipped spears and flint 

 '^ knives. They appeared anything but friendly. I endeavoured 

 " to explain to them what I wanted, and they seemed satisfied 

 " and sat down to smoke, but presently I perceived one of them 

 " string his bow, and another sharpen his flint knife with a pair of 

 " wooden pincers, and suspend it on the wrist of the right hand. 

 " Further testimony of their intentions was unnecessary. To save 

 '' myself by flight was impossible, so without hesitation I stepped 

 *' back about five paces, cocked my gun drew one of the pistols 

 '' out of my belt, and holding it in my left hand, and the gun in 

 " my right, showed myself determined to fight for my life. As 

 " much as possible, I endeavoured to preserve my coolness, and 

 " thus we stood looking at one another, without making any move- 

 " ment or uttering a word, for, perhaps, ten minutes, when one, 

 " at last, who seemed the leader, gave a sign that they wished 

 " for some tobacco : this I signified that they should have, if they 

 '' fetched me a quantity of cones. They went off immediately 

 " in search of them, and no sooner were they all out of sight, than 

 '' I picked up my three cones and some twigs of the trees, and 

 " made the quickest posssible retreat, hurrying back to my camp, 

 ^' which I reached before dusk, the Indian who last undertook to 

 " be my guide to the trees I sent off before gaining my encamp- 

 " ment, lest he should betray me. How irksome is the darkness 

 " of night to one under my present circumstances ! I cannot 

 " speak a word to my guide, nor have I a book to divert my 

 " thoughts, which are continually occupied with the dread lest the 

 " hostile Indians should trace me hither and make an attack ; I 

 " now write lying on the grass, with my gun cocked beside me, 

 " and penning these lines by the light of a Columbian candle, 

 *' namely, an ignited piece of rosiny wood. — To return to the 

 " tree which nearly cost me so dear, the wood is remarkably fine 

 " grained and heavy ; the leaves short and bright green, inserted 

 " five together, in a very short sheath ; of my three cones, one 

 " measured fourteen inches and a half, and the two others are 

 " respectively half an inch and an inch shorter, all full of fine 

 '' seed. A little before this time of year, the Indians gather the 

 '' cones and roast them on the embers, then quarter] them and 

 ' shake out the seeds, which are afterwards thoroughly dried and 

 pounded into a sort of flour, or else eaten whole. 



