e open.
They looked for those who could tell them of the doings of white men who
landed on these shores nearly a century before, and for those who could
point the way to boundary monuments wherever they were. Of necessity
they must look among the aged ones of Chilkats for information.

On the day following their landing the Indians were assembled, and
inquiry was made by the white men as to the location of the boundary
monuments. Had any of the people present ever seen such, or did they
know where they were to be found?

Two or three then declared that they had seen, many years before, a
Russian Boundary House and knew how to reach it; but they were too old
to walk so far, or climb the mountains. They said they would direct
some younger Indian, and he should guide the white men to the spot.

Their search, however, proved unavailing, for days they wandered about
the mountains and even reached the divide indicated by the old Indians;
but nowhere could a Boundary House, or anything of a like description,
be found.

At last they returned to Klukwan for supplies and further instructions.
There was evidently some mistake.

A consultation was held. An Indian, who had been upon the identical spot
of the Boundary House, must accompany the white men and indicate the
place, if possible.

Some one mentioned the name of Old Tillie. She was too old to see well,
her teeth were long since gone, and she dozed often. No one thought her
able to walk any distance; but if she were strong enough she could
locate the place, if anyone could. She had been there in her girlhood,
seventy years before. When she was asked to guide the white men to the
mountains she slowly shook her head but said nothing.

[Illustration: _When Old Tillie was young_]

"Well, Dick," said the Lieutenant, "we may as well go home. It is too
late to do anything more to-day. It is supper time."

Later, when their meal was finished, and tin cups and plates had been
put aside, the officer took from its nail an old banjo, and began
strumming. Presently he was singing, and his rich, clear voice,
admirably suited to the time, place and surroundings, filled the little
cabin and floated across to the green where the Indians camped. Song
followed song, and the guide continually puffed his pipe near at hand.

By and by, a form stood in the doorway. It was old Tillie. She had heard
the music and had hobbled over to the officer's cabin to listen.

"Come in and sit down,