AN INDIAN VILLAGE 223 



He had married a handsome young squaw. 

 Her three children two boys and a girl- 

 were healthy looking and apparently very 

 happy. The morning was quite cold, the 

 glass registering about twenty-two degrees, 

 yet the youngsters had no hats on, and their 

 clothing was very light. Their cheeks were 

 rosy, their hair was nicely combed, and their 

 faces were clean. I asked their father the 

 trader if he had any "whistler" skins (skins 

 of the whistling marmot). "No," he replied, 

 "but I'll send my boy over to an Indian who 

 has eighteen good ones that he'll sell." He 

 spoke to the boy and off the lad went on the 

 run. He came back with one skin, the price 

 being a dollar. As this was twice what I was 

 told they were worth, I took but the one to 

 bring home as a sample, and then bought some 

 articles of Indian manufacture as curios. 



While paying for these purchases a loud 

 shouting was heard, and on looking out I saw 

 our wagon team of two mules and two horses 

 dashing away in spite of the driver's efforts 

 to hold them. The team was going up hill 

 and the stiff ascent soon calmed them down. 

 Running up to the wagon we found that a 

 young Indian had come alongside of Billie 

 to speak to the driver, and at once the noble 



