BOREGO SPRINGS TO LOS COYOTES 207 



of life. I heartily wish that some one would find that 

 mine, and put the old eternal anecdotes and theo- 

 ries to final rest. "Well, sir" (this is the sort of 

 thing), "Dutchy kin say whatever he's a min' ten 

 I claim to know them 'ere Choc'lates purty (blank) 

 well, seein' I've dry-washed every (blank) gully 

 from Dos Palms to Carga Muchach', an' I tell you 

 they ain't no chanst for that (blank) formation in 

 the hull (blank) lay-out. Why, look a-here : ole Peg- 

 Leg he says — . " And off we would go once more 

 into the threadbare history, with changes rung on 

 "buttes" and "monnyments," "ledges" and "bear- 

 ings," till I remembered to go and water Kaweah, or 

 put my rice to boil, or whatever excuse came easiest 

 to hand. 



To make a brief statement of the case, for the 

 benefit of any citizen of the United States who may 

 not have heard it: This particular Smith, Thomas L., 

 conspicuous among the tribe by the circumstance of 

 a timber leg, was a brother of that Jedediah Smith 

 who ranks high among Western pioneers. Thomas L. 

 became the leader of one of those bands of trappers 

 who in the thirties and forties roved over the vast 

 spaces of the West in quest of furs and adventure. 

 (The peg-leg itself was a souvenir of the adventures, 

 he having amputated the natural member himself 

 when it was shattered by a bullet in the course of 

 a fight with Indians.) On one of these journeys 

 the party reached the Colorado River, worked down 

 the stream to its junction with the Gila, and crossed 

 into California, when they struck northwest toward 

 the pass, later known as "Warner's" or the "San 



