eps and find the trail that leads from Harriett's house to Nappa,
which escaped us this morning. We received such directions, however,
from Mr. Greenwood, that we could not fail to find it.

We found in the camp, much to our gratification after a long fast, an
abundance of fat grisly bear-meat and the most delicious and tender
deer-meat. The camp looked like a butcher's stall. The pot filled with
bear-flesh was boiled again and again, and the choice pieces of the
tender venison were roasting, and disappearing with singular rapidity
for a long time. Bread there was none of course. Such a delicacy is
unknown to the mountain trappers, nor is it much desired by them.

The hunting party consisted of Mr. Greenwood, Mr. Turner, Mr. Adams,
and three sons of Mr. G., one grown, and the other two boys 10 or 12
years of age, half-bred Indians, the mother being a Crow. One of these
boys is named "Governor Boggs," after ex-governor Boggs of Missouri, an
old friend of the father. Mr. Greenwood, or "Old Greenwood," as he is
familiarly called, according to his own statement, is 83 years of age,
and has been a mountain trapper between 40 and 50 years. He lived among
the Crow Indians, where he married his wife, between thirty and forty
years. He is about six feet in height, raw-boned and spare in flesh,
but muscular, and, notwithstanding his old age, walks with all the
erectness and elasticity of youth. His dress was of tanned buckskin,
and from its appearance one would suppose its antiquity to be nearly
equal to the age of its wearer. It had probably never been off his body
since he first put it on. "I am," said he, "an old man--eighty-three
years--it is a long time to live;--eighty-three years last--. I have
seen all the Injun varmints of the Rocky Mountains,--have fout
them--lived with them. I have many children--I don't know how many,
they are scattered; but my wife was a Crow. The Crows are a brave
nation,--the bravest of all the Injuns; they fight like the white man;
they don't kill you in the dark like the Black-foot varmint, and then
take your scalp and run, the cowardly reptiles. Eighty-three years
last----; and yet old Greenwood could handle the rifle as well as the
best on 'em, but for this infernal humour in my eyes, caught three
years ago in bringing the emigrators over the _de_-sart." (A circle of
scarlet surrounded his weeping eyeballs.) "I can't see jist now as well
as I did fifty years ago, but I can always bring the game