"I hope you are not going to kill me," quavered the American.
"You? No. I am going to shoot the eagle perched on yonder oak."
The American looked at the bird, and the unerring shot, and retired to the fort.
The next day was Sabbath. Captain Sutter invited the Indians up to the fort to church. After the service, Elijah and his uncle, Tauitau, were invited into another apartment. The American of yesterday began to berate them.
"You hounds, you dogs, you thieves of the upper country! I heard of you on the Willamette. Yesterday you were going to kill me. Now you must die." Drawing his pistol he aimed at Elijah.
"Let me pray a little first," said Elijah, falling on his knees.
"Dare you, an Indian, presume to preach to me? Take that and that." With a quick jerk the American shot the kneeling boy through the heart.
A look of horror passed from face to face as the kneeling form fell back with prayer upon its lips. Blood gushed from the nose, one convulsive sigh, and the lad was dead.
Sudden terror seized the white men, lest the Indians should attack them. The death-wail had hardly sounded when the Indians turned to flee before the guns of the frightened inmates of the fort. One wicked desperado had put them all in peril. The Indians leaped to their horses. One, only, lingered a moment, and covered the face of the dead with a blanket.
"Boom! boom! "went the cannon of Sutter's fort tearing away the tree-tops above the heads of the fugitive red men. Tents, provisions, and the purchased
