wylie’s reception by his tribe. 109 
small but enterprising band that I then commanded, 
the goodly array of horses and drays, with all their 
well-ordered appointments and equipment were con- 
jured up in all their circumstances of pride and 
pleasure ; and I could not restrain a tear, as I called 
to mind the embarrassing difficulties and sad dis- 
asters that had broken up my party, and left myself 
and Wylie the two sole wanderers remaining at the 
close of an undertaking entered upon under such 
hopeful auspices. 
Whilst standing thus upon the brow overlooking 
the town, and buried in reflection, I was startled by 
the loud shrill cry of the native we had met on the 
road, and who still kept with us : clearly and power- 
fully that voice rang through the recesses of the 
settlement beneath, whilst the blended name of 
Wylie told me of the information it conveyed. For 
an instant there was a silence still almost as death 
— then a single repetition of that wild joyous cry, 
a confused hum of many voices, a hurrying to and 
fro of human feet, and the streets which had 
appeared so shortly before gloomy and untenanted, 
were now alive with natives — men, women and 
children, old and young, rushing rapidly up the 
hill, to welcome the wanderer on his return, and to 
receive their lost one almost from the grave. 
It was an interesting and touching sight to wit- 
ness the meeting between Wylie and his friends. 
Affection’s strongest ties could not have produced a 
more affecting and melting scene — the wordless 
