A CHAT WITH PAH-SQUAL. 319 



frontiersmen would carry such ill-designed, badly-tempered 

 things. They had evidently been " made for exportation." 

 I was anxious to ascertain whence they obtained such goods, 

 as, apart from a feeling of curiosity about the matter, it 

 would be very desirable to be able to stop any channel 

 through which ammunition was obtained by hostile Indians. 

 Therefore, while we smoked our pipes after supper, I led 

 the conversation so as to find this out, if possible. Pah- 

 Squal made no bones about telling me. He said they 

 were bought at San Bernardino, in Southern California, 

 and to that place a party of his tribe went annually on 

 a trading trip. To the question, were they not afraid, 

 being at war with the whites, to venture into one of their 

 towns ? he replied, not at all, they always passed them- 

 selves off as Mission Indians ; adding, with a smile (I 

 give his own words this time), " Los blancos no heap sabe 

 Indianos." 



Now, San Bernardino is about four hundred miles from 

 where we sat talking, and it seemed impossible that they 

 should wander so far to trade. To test the statement, I 

 asked if he knew the names of the men they traded with. 

 To my astonishment, he, without hesitation, pronounced 

 those of some Jewish firms that I was well acquainted with. 

 Then, to try his topographical knowledge, I told him that 

 by-and-by I was going to San Bernardino; could he tell me 

 the best route to take ? He took an arrow, smoothed the 

 sandy ground, marked out the cardinal points, and drew a 

 map of the country between where we sat and there, 

 showing the number of " sleeps," where there was water, 

 where grass, and where wood ; and all this as accurately 



