much of their grass, which assists greatly to drive away the game. We remember on one occasion that an American, in charge of several thousand sheep, started on a journey from New Mexico to California. Everything went prosperously with the man until he left the Raton Mountains and entered the country inhabited by the Arrapahoes and Cheyennes. At first, he was received in a friendly manner by these Indians; but was commanded by them to rest where he was until they went ahead and killed their annual amount of buffalo. This, the man could not do; for the season was so far advanced that if he delayed, and then attempted to make California, he would be certainly overtaken by snow-storms which would bury him and his property in the mountains. In vain he used his best endeavors to impress this state of affairs on the minds of the Indians. They would not listen to him or sanction his going on, and threatened to punish him if he undertook to disobey them. Bidding defiance to these threats, this man started; but had only proceeded a few miles, when a band of one hundred squaws, mounted on horseback, overtook him and dashed into his herd, and with savage delight put to death one hundred and fifty of the sheep before their owner's eyes and without his being able to stop them. The carcasses of the slaughtered animals were left to rot on the ground, thereby showing that the Indians did not stand in need of food, but that they wished to teach the intruder a lesson which he would be apt to remember. These women had been sent out by their husbands, who no doubt were close by in case their services should be needed, to show to the white man the contempt they had of his power. The result was that the American was obliged to return to New Mexico from whence he came. When he set out again, he chose what is known as the Southern Route, which runs via the Rio Gila and strikes California in its lower section.