Breakfast finished, the trader, captain, and myself started for the village. Clear of the gates, we scrambled down a rocky path, crossed a mountain-burn, dividing the Indians from the fort, and entered ‘the city of the redskins;’ which consists of a long row of huts, each but nearly square, the exterior fantastically frescoed in hieroglyphic patterns, in white, red, and blue; having however a symbolical meaning or heraldic value, like the _totum_ of the Indians east of the Rocky Mountains; four immense trees, barked and worked smooth, support each corner; the tops are carved to resemble some horrible monster: the hut is constructed of cedar-plank, chipped from the solid tree with chisels and hatchets made of stone: many hands combine to accomplish this; hence a hut becomes the joint property of several families. Five tribes live in this village:— Qua-kars, numbering about 800 warriors. Qual-quilths 〃 〃 100 〃 Kum-cutes 〃 〃 70 〃 Wan-lish 〃 〃 50 〃 Lock-qua-lillas 〃 〃 80 〃 The entire population, even to the dogs, turned out on our advent; it was puzzling to imagine where they all came from. We soon formed the centre of the vilest assemblage man ever beheld. The object of our visit made known, a ring was immediately formed by chiefs and braves, the squaws and children being outside. Had any charming princess, captive in an enchanted castle, been guarded by such a collection of painted ragamuffins as now surrounded us, he would have been a valorous knight that dared venture to release her. The first question discussed being the price, a much larger sum was asked than we felt disposed to pay. Although the slave belonged solely to one Indian, the power to sell resting with him only, still every one had their say. Men gurgled and spluttered strange unintelligible noises, women chattered and screamed like furies, whilst children engaged in small battles outside the ring. Thirty blankets and two trade-guns—equal to about 50_£._ sterling—were the terms at last agreed on. We then adjourned to the shed where the slave was a prisoner. I was in a great state of expectation, picturing to myself an Indian Hebe, limbs exquisitely moulded, native grace and elegance in every movement, gorgeous in ‘wampum,’ paint, and waving feathers, such as I had read of as ‘Laughing Water,’ or ‘Prairie Flower.’ Being carried, so to speak, into the shed—a waif in the stream of savages rushing like a human torrent to get in—with all the breath squeezed out of me, I was deposited somewhere but as my head was enveloped in a dense cloud of pungent smoke, it was some time ere I discovered I was close to the captain. ‘Sit down,’ he roared; ‘you will die of suffocation if you keep your head in the smoke.’ At once I seated myself on the floor, and now quite understand what being suffocated in a chimney is like.