rity and grace. Nothing can be more spirited than a band
of Crow cavaliers. They are a fine race of men averaging six feet in
height, lithe and active, with hawks' eyes and Roman noses. The
latter feature is common to the Indians on the east side of the Rocky
Mountains; those on the western side have generally straight or flat
noses.

Wyeth would fain have slipped by this cavalcade unnoticed; but the
river, at this place, was not more than ninety yards across; he was
perceived, therefore, and hailed by the vagabond warriors, and,
we presume, in no very choice language; for, among their other
accomplishments, the Crows are famed for possessing a Billingsgate
vocabulary of unrivalled opulence, and for being by no means sparing
of it whenever an occasion offers. Indeed, though Indians are generally
very lofty, rhetorical, and figurative in their language at all great
talks, and high ceremonials, yet, if trappers and traders may be
believed, they are the most unsavory vagabonds in their ordinary
colloquies; they make no hesitation to call a spade a spade; and when
they once undertake to call hard names, the famous pot and kettle, of
vituperating memory, are not to be compared with them for scurrility of
epithet.

To escape the infliction of any compliments of this kind, or the
launching, peradventure, of more dangerous missiles, Wyeth landed with
the best grace in his power and approached the chief of the band. It was
Arapooish, the quondam friend of Rose the outlaw, and one whom we have
already mentioned as being anxious to promote a friendly intercourse
between his tribe and the white men. He was a tall, stout man, of good
presence, and received the voyagers very graciously. His people, too,
thronged around them, and were officiously attentive after the Crow
fashion. One took a great fancy to Baptiste the Flathead boy, and a
still greater fancy to a ring on his finger, which he transposed to his
own with surprising dexterity, and then disappeared with a quick step
among the crowd.

Another was no less pleased with the Nez Perce lad, and nothing would do
but he must exchange knives with him; drawing a new knife out of the Nez
Perce's scabbard, and putting an old one in its place. Another stepped
up and replaced this old knife with one still older, and a third helped
himself to knife, scabbard and all. It was with much difficulty that
Wyeth and his companions extricated themselves from the clutches of
these officious Cr