sultry weather of a Columbia summer, had a task too severe, perhaps, even for the best travellers.
The most refractory of the rear-guard was Mr. Cox—the little Irishman, as he was generally called.[70] Mr. Clarke riding back ordered him, in an angry tone, to quicken his steps. "Give me a horse," said Cox, "and I'll ride with yourself at the head." At this reply Mr. Clarke raised his whip—some say he {212} put his threats in execution—and then rode off. Be that as it may, Cox slunk off and took to the mountains; the party moved on, and Cox remained behind. The sixth day the party arrived at Spokane. Indians were then sent out in all directions; but it was the seventh day after the party had reached its destination before Cox made his appearance. The Indians had picked him up in a most destitute and forlorn condition on the thirteenth day of his wayward pilgrimage; his clothes all torn, his feet bare, and his belly empty. When I was there in the winter, Cox had hardly recovered yet. Mr. Clarke's mode of trading might do for a bourgeois; but it was not fit for a clerk. What was considered moderate at Spokane would be denounced as exorbitant at Oakinacken. Mr. Clarke was extravagant; but to be called by the Indians a generous chief was his greatest glory.
Mr. Clarke established himself at the corner of the opposition post; and being formerly a North-Wester himself, he was up to the rigs of his opponents. The Indians were assembled, long speeches were made, and mighty things were promised on both sides, but never fulfilled. As soon as Mr. Clarke had got himself and property under shelter, following the North-West system, he gave a grand ball to his men, and appointed
