54 THE YUROK. 
of eattle-trails obscured the path and led me on many a wild-goose chase. 
At every village the Indians would swarm out and offer me their canoes 
at an extortionate price; but it was only three or four miles to the Klamath 
Bluffs trading-post and I determined to push on. I soon discovered that 
whenever I left a village an Indian would dash down the bank, leap into 
his canoe, shoot swiftly down the river, and put the next one below on the 
alert lest I should pass them without being perceived. So it continued for 
some time, and each village—they were often less than a quarter of a mile 
apart—lowered the price “a bit” or so, though still charging three times too 
much. At last I came to fresh tracks in the trail which were evidently 
made by American boots and I followed them joyfully ; but they soon led 
me into a thick jungle dripping with rain where I speedily lost the way 
and got saturated from head to foot. In a perfect desperation, I floundered 
out somehow and got down on the river-bank determined to take the first 
passing canoe at whatever cost. In a few minutes, who of all men in the 
world should come paddling quietly around the bend but Salmon Billy! 
It is necessary here to go back and mention that Billy had taken note 
of me in his village, and instead of going down to warn his neighbors, he 
had studied his own advantage, shot down ahead, bowled his canoe ashore, 
made the tracks on purpose to decoy me into the jungle, then regained his 
canoe by a roundabout way and dashed out of my sight. From his covert 
he saw me come down on the bank quite beat out and in a wofully 
bedraggled condition; so presently he hove in sight paddling leisurely 
around the bend, with the most unconscious and casual air in the world. 
In a moment a suspicion of foul play flashed upon me. I was vexed 
enough to have thrashed his head off, but there I was. So I gave a shout 
at him but he looked the other way. I whooped at him again with a cer- 
tain elevation of voice. He narrowly scrutinized a woodpecker flying 
overhead, then riveted his gaze intently upon a frog singing on a bowlder 
ashore. He couldn’t hear me, the raseal! until I bawled at him three 
times. I paid him his price without a word and got in. The next day he 
took me down to the mouth of the river, and when I spoke to him about 
the tracks Billy’s face remained as placid as a cucumber, but he suddenly 
forgot all his stock of English and could understand never a word more ! 
