ith a heart full of
anticipation. It made him supremely happy to show the master the wonderful
things of the beautiful country, and the one ambition of his heart now was
to go to the lakes of the _honks_.

CHAPTER IX.

GRETCHEN'S VISIT TO THE OLD CHIEF OF THE CASCADES.

"Go to the chief's lodge, Gretchen, and stay until the Potlatch, and I
will come to visit you." Such were the words of Mrs. Woods, as her final
decision, after long considering the chief's request.

The forest lodge of the old chief of the Cascades was picturesque without
and within. Outwardly, it was a mere tent of skins and curious
pictography, under the shadows of gigantic trees, looking down on the
glistening waters of the Columbia; inwardly, it was a museum of relics of
the supposed era of the giant-killers, and of the deep regions of the
tooth and claw; of Potlatches, masques and charms of _medas_ and
_wabenoes_; of curious pipes; of odd, curious feathers, and beautiful
shells and feather-work and pearls. But, though all things here were rude
and primitive, the old chief had a strong poetic sense, and the place and
the arrangement of everything in it were very picturesque in its effect,
and would have delighted an artist. On a hill near were grave-posts, and a
sacred grove, in which were bark coffins in trees. Near by was an open
field where the Indian hunters were accustomed to gather their peltries,
and where visiting bands of Indians came to be hospitably entertained, and
feasts were given _a la mode de sauvage_. From the plateau of the royal
lodge ran long forest trails and pathways of blazed trees; and near the
opening to the tent rose two poles, to indicate the royal rank of the
occupant. These were ornamented with ideographic devices of a historical
and religious character.

The family of Umatilla consisted of his squaw, an old woman partly
demented, and Benjamin, who was now much of the time away with the
schoolmaster.

The old chief was very kind to his unfortunate wife, and treated her like
a child or a doll. Benjamin was about to take as his bride an Indian girl
whom the English called Fair Cloud, and she was a frequent visitor at the
tent.

To this patriarchal family Gretchen came one day, bringing her violin.
Fair Cloud was there to receive her, and the crazy old squaw seemed to be
made happy by the sight of her white face, and she did all that she could
in her simple way to make her welcome. She gave her ornaments of s