gaze.

Solemnity and awe came to him. He had seen the bridge of his vision;
he had in truth been divinely called to his work. He felt that the
sight of the bridge was both the visible seal of God upon his mission
and a sign that its accomplishment was close at hand. He bowed his
head involuntarily, as in the presence of the Most High. He felt that
he rode to his destiny, that for him all things converged and
culminated at the great council.

They had not advanced far into the wood ere the whole train came to a
sudden halt. Riding forward, Cecil found a band of horsemen awaiting
them. They were Klickitats, mounted on good ponies; neither women nor
pack-horses were with them; they were armed and painted, and their
stern and menacing aspect was more like that of men who were on the
war-trail than of men who were riding to a "peace-talk."

The Cayuses halted a short distance away. Snoqualmie rode forward and
met the Klickitat chief in the space between the two bands. A few
words passed, fierce and questioning on the part of the Klickitat,
guarded and reserved on the part of the Cayuse. Then the Klickitat
seemed to suggest something at which the Cayuse shook his head
indignantly. The other instantly wheeled his horse, rode back to his
band, and apparently reported what Snoqualmie had said; for they all
set up a taunting shout, and after flinging derisive words and
gestures at the Cayuses, turned around and dashed at full gallop down
the trail, leaving the Cayuses covered with a cloud of dust.

And then Cecil knew that the spectacle meant war.

The air grew softer and more moist as they descended the western slope
of the Cascade Range. The pines gave way to forests of fir, the
underwood became denser, and ferns grew thick along the trail. It had
rained the night before, and the boughs and bushes hung heavy with
pendant drops. Now and then an Indian rider, brushing against some
vine or maple or low swaying bough, brought down upon himself a
drenching shower. The disgusted "ugh!" of the victim and the laughter
of the others would bring a smile to even Cecil's lips.

And so approaching the sea, they entered the great, wooded, rainy
valley of the lower Columbia. It was like a different world from the
desert sands and prairies of the upper Columbia. It seemed as if they
were entering a land of perpetual spring. They passed through groves
of spreading oaks; they skirted lowlands purple with blooming _camas_;
they crossed pra