Dey haf recognize', an' haf weep togedder under one blanket. I mos' weep too."
"A princess, be she?" exclaimed Sergeant Pat. "Well, well! Good for the little Bird-woman. An' what of hosses?"
"Plenty hoss. No more drag canoe."
The captains came down. They also were dressed as Indians; in their hair had been tied little shells from the "stinking lake," as the Snakes called the far-off Pacific Ocean. The shells had been bought from other Indians and were considered very valuable. A canopy of boughs and sails was ordered erected; under this another council was held. Chief Ca-me-ah-wait promised to furnish horses. The Indian women set about repairing the men's moccasins. They appeared to be a kindly tribe—they wondered much at York, and the battered boats, and the guns, and even at the smartness of the little black dog. But they shook their heads when questioned about the country west of the mountains.
"Dey say it is not ze possible for ze white mans to make travel down ze Columbee by boats, an' ze trail for ze hoss an' ze foot is ver' bad," declared Chaboneau.
"What's the matter with Sa-ca-ja-we-a, Toussaint?" queried George Shannon, for the Bird-woman's eyes were red and swollen.
"She much cry. Mos' all her fam'ly dead while she been away."
In the morning Captain Clark took Sergeant Pat
