management of the rifle most of them can "draw a bead" and hit "plumb
centre" with any of their mountain associates. In addition to the
firelock and knife, I noticed that they still carried the ancient weapon
of their race, the fearful tomahawk.

I have described three characteristic groups that struck me on glancing
over the camp ground. There were individuals belonging to neither, and
others partaking of the character of one or all. There were Frenchmen,
Canadian voyageurs, strays of the north-west company, wearing white
capotes, and chatting, dancing, and singing their boat-songs with all
the _esprit_ of their race. There were pueblos, Indios manzos, clad in
their ungraceful tilmas, and rather serving than associating with those
around them. There were mulattoes, too, and negroes of a jetty
blackness from the plantations of Louisiana, who had exchanged for this
free, roving life the twisted "cow-skin" of the overseer. There were
tattered uniforms showing the deserters who had wandered from some
frontier post into this remote region. There were Kanakas from the
Sandwich Isles, who had crossed the deserts from California. There were
men apparently of every hue and clime and tongue here assembled, drawn
together by the accidents of life, by the instinct of adventure--all
more or less strange individuals of the strangest band it has ever been
my lot to witness: the band of the Scalp-Hunters!

CHAPTER TWENTY.

SHARP-SHOOTING.

I had returned to my blanket, and was about to stretch myself upon it,
when the whoop of a gruya drew my attention. Looking up, I saw one of
these birds flying towards the camp. It was coming through a break in
the trees that opened from the river. It flew low, and tempted a shot
with its broad wings, and slow, lazy flight.

A report rang upon the air. One of the Mexicans had fired his
escopette; but the bird flew on, plying its wings with more energy, as
if to bear itself out of reach.

There was a laugh from the trappers, and a voice cried out--

"Yur fool! D'yur think 'ee kud hit a spread blanket wi' that
beetle-shaped blunderbox? Pish!"

I turned to see who had delivered this odd speech. Two men were poising
their rifles, bringing them to bear upon the bird. One was the young
hunter whom I have described. The other was an Indian whom I had not
seen before.

The cracks were simultaneous; and the crane, dropping its long neck,
came whirling down among the trees, w