160 THE WILDERNESS AND ITS TENANTS. [1760-1763. 



can speak clearly as the tongue of man, and the 

 rustle of a leaf give knowledge of life or death. ^ 

 With us the name of the savage is a byword of 

 reproach. The Indian would look with equal scorn 

 on those who, buried in useless lore, are blind and 

 deaf to the great world of nature. 



A striking example of Indian acuteness once came under my obser- 

 vation. Travelling in company with a Canadian named Raymond, and 

 an Ogillallah Indian, we came at nightfall to a small stream called Chug- 

 water, a branch of Laramie Creek. As we prepared to encamp, we ob- 

 served the ashes of a fire, the footprints of men and horses, and other 

 mdications that a party had been upon the spot not many days before. 

 Having secured our horses for the night, Raymond and I sat down and 

 lighted our pipes, my companion, who had spent his whole life in the 

 Indian country, hazarding various conjectures as to the numbers and 

 character of our predecessors. Soon after, we were joined by the Indian, 

 who, meantime, had been prowling about the place. Raymond asked 

 what discovery he had made. He answered, that the party were friendly, 

 and that they consisted of eight men, both whites and Indians, several of 

 whom he named, affirming that he knew them well. To an inquiry how 

 he gained his information, he would make no intelligible reply. On the 

 next day, reaching Fort Laramie, a post of the American Fur Company, 

 we found that he was correct in every particular, — a circumstance the 

 more remarkable, as he had been with us for three weeks, and could have 

 had no other means of knowledge than we ourselves. 



