In the Sierra 



boulders that strew the ground in Nature's 

 glacial workshops. 



Soon after my return to camp we re- 

 ceived a visit from an Indian, probably one 

 of the hunters whose camp I had discov- 

 ered. He came from Mono, he said, with 

 others of his tribe, to hunt deer. One that 

 he had killed a short distance from here 

 he was carrying on his back, its legs tied 

 together in an ornamental bunch on his 

 forehead. Throwing down his burden, he 

 gazed stolidly for a few minutes in silent 

 Indian fashion, then cut off eight or ten 

 pounds of venison for us, and begged a 

 " lill" (little) of everything he saw or could 

 think of, flour, bread, sugar, tobacco, 

 whiskey, needles, etc. We gave a fair price 

 for the meat in flour and sugar and added 

 a few needles. A strangely dirty and irreg- 

 ular life these dark-eyed, dark-haired, half- 

 happy savages lead in this clean wilderness, 

 starvation and abundance, deathlike calm, 

 indolence, and admirable, indefatigable 



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