the
world to meet one myself, so would Buckie here, wouldn't you?"

The Indian boy, whose name Tolly had thus modified, tried to assent to
this proposal by bending his little head in a stately manner, in
imitation of his dignified father.

"Well, I don't mind if I do," replied the trapper, with a twinkle of his
eyes.

Mahoghany Drake was blessed with that rare gift, the power to invest
with interest almost any subject, no matter how trivial or commonplace,
on which he chose to speak. Whether it was the charm of a musical
voice, or the serious tone and manner of an earnest man, we cannot tell,
but certain it is, that whenever or wherever he began to talk, men
stopped to listen, and were held enchained until he had finished.

On the present occasion the trapper seated himself on a green bank that
lay close to the edge of a steep precipice, and laid his rifle across
his knees, while the boys sat down one on each side of him.

The view from the elevated spot on which they sat was most exquisite,
embracing the entire length of the valley at the other end of which the
Indian village lay, its inhabitants reduced to mere specks and its
wigwams to little cones, by distance. Owing also to the height of the
spot, the view of surrounding mountains was extended, so that range upon
range was seen in softened perspective, while a variety of lakelets,
with their connecting watercourses, which were hidden by foliage in the
lower grounds, were now opened up to view. Glowing sunshine glittered
on the waters and bathed the hills and valleys, deepening the near
shadows and intensifying the purple and blue of those more distant.

"It often makes me wonder," said the trapper, in a reflective tone, as
if speaking rather to himself than to his companions, "why the Almighty
has made the world so beautiful an' parfect an' allowed mankind to grow
so awful bad."

The boys did not venture to reply, but as Drake sat gazing in dreamy
silence at the far-off hills, little Trevor, who recalled some of his
conversations with the Rose of Oregon, ventured to say, "P'r'aps we'll
find out some day, though we don't understand it just now."

"True, lad, true," returned Drake. "It would be well for us if we
always looked at it in that light, instead o' findin' fault wi' things
as they are, for it stands to reason that the Maker of all can fall into
no mistakes."

"But what about the ornithologist?" said Tolly, who had no desire that
the conversat