But, if Brighton Bill was not well versed in Scripture, he displayed himself this evening in a new light--that of an orator. No sooner had he served round the whiskey which he had captured from the already slaughtered enemy, than he produced from one of the blankets in which he had wrapped it, my twisted and broken rifle. "Jist look 'ere, boys," he said, "hat the popper of hour Cap. This h'is the harticle with which 'e smashed ha couple of Hingins. Hi'm blowed h'if you didn't, Mose! H'it's no huse 'iding your light hunder a bushel, when H'i 'ave the hevidence in my hown 'and, and show hit." Here I endeavored to put in a word, but it was drowned in the general applause, and seizing on the instant of its cessation, he continued: "H'if you 'ad only seen those blarsted Hingins. Wun of 'em stood seven an a 'alf foot 'igh in 'is stocking-feet, and the h'other--" I could no longer refrain, but cried out: "It's quite clear who tapped the whiskey keg, before we had a chance of looking at it." The Britisher gazed in pathetic wonder on his partially maimed leader, as he heard this ungenerous insinuation against his sobriety. Then with a sadly melancholy smile, he said: "H'i forgive you, Cap! But, may H'i be blamed if you harn't a tuff 'un." That night, guard being kept by Butch' and Ben Painter, I slept well and soundly. On the next morning I was up by daylight, and we returned to Honey Lake through Carson City. When we arrived there it was to hear that another treaty had actually been made with the Indians. Once more they were to be allowed to re-enter the valley. The settlers were to resume possession of their ranches, and what stock was left on them, or could be found. How long it would continue, the Devil and the red men themselves, only, could form an opinion. CHAPTER IX. THE PICK, PAN, AND SHOVEL--SOMEWHAT DOWN IN THE MOUTH--"ROPING IN A GREENEY"--THE SHREWD YANKEE--A SQUARE MEAL, AND A BAD ONE--NO GOLD--NEARLY AT STARVATION POINT--THE ELK, AND HOW LONG IT LASTED--MOUNTAIN MEAT--CAPTURED BY THE INDIANS--MY EXPERIENCE OF THE STAKE--CONVERTED INTO A CANDLESTICK--THE CRACK OF A DOZEN RIFLES. In something less than two weeks, my shoulder was completely well, and the enforced inactivity had made me restless. At this time, the vast treasures of gold said to be awaiting the miner in British Columbia, near Frazer's River, created great excitement through the West. The fever of this excitement was like all such fevers--contagious among the idle. Having then nothing to do, I caught it. In an informal meeting with several of the Rangers, I proposed to them that we should visit the new land of promise. As they were willing to accompany me, a full meeting was summoned. At this it was unanimously determined that the journey should be undertaken, if we could make it by land.