276 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 
lake, out of which pours a rapid stream, two 
hundred yards in width, and very deep; camp on 
its edge, and set to work to discover some means 
of crossing. 
The smoke of my camp-fire has barely reached 
above the trees, when Indians are seen coming 
from all directions, some on horseback, others 
on foot; and canoes in fleets dot the lake, that 
stretches away until lost in the distance, like a 
fresh-water ocean. I feel very uneasy. The two 
Sis-ky-oues have gone, vanished mysteriously. 
Hastily collect dry wood and light a circle of fires, 
within which I enclose my mules. I am mobbed 
by ugly half-naked demons, who are evidently 
doubtful whether to be friends or foes. By aid 
of my guide, I manage to bargain for two canoes. 
May 20th.—Never laid down all night. Kept 
the packers guarding my mules, stationing a 
man between each of the fires. Indians in full 
force at sun-up. In two hours cross all my stores 
in the canoes; swim the mules, and without any 
accident we are safely over the river. 
This tribe, the Klamath Indians—the chief 
of whom, Le-lake, is a man of considerable 
influence—number about 2,000, and own large 
herds of horses and cattle. They are nearly 
always at war, and are the terror of emi- 
