In his early years he hovered about the hunting parties of Osages, Comanches, Pani–picas, and other tribes, who frequented the region where he had been left to shift for himself, and at other seasons none knew whether he lived upon roots, berries, and honey, or wandered to tribes yet more remote from his birth–place. He was never known, either in summer or winter, to wear any other dress than a bison–skin with the hair outwards, in the centre of which he cut a hole, and passing his head through the aperture, wore this uncouth skin like the Poncha of the Mexicans. From these early rambling habits, he had picked up a smattering of many Indian dialects, and of these the Osage was one with which he was the most familiar; he enjoyed a high reputation among the Crows, not only from his being often useful as an interpreter, but because he was, without exception, the most skilful horse–stealer in the whole region between the Arkansas and the mountains. He was also deeply versed in the knowledge of all the properties of plants, roots, and herbs, so much so, that, unless fame wronged him, more than one of his enemies had died by the agency of subtle poison. Such was the personage who, fixing his single cunning eye upon Mahéga, inquired, on the part of the Crows, his object in paying them a visit. The conversation, rendered into English, was in substance as follows:— _Besha._ “Has the Washashee come to hunt and trap among the Stony Mountains?” _Mahéga._ “He has not; he has come towards the setting sun, because the enemies on his path were too many for him—he wished for peace.” _B._ “Has the Washashee a name in his tribe?” _M._ “He has a name; when the war–post is struck, Mahéga is not silent,” said the chief, haughtily. _B._ “Mahéga!” repeated the horse–stealer, to whom the name was evidently not unknown. “Mahéga, the Red–hand!—does he wander so far from his village?” _M._ “He wanders, but there is Great Medicine in his lodge; blood has been on his path, and his enemies do not laugh.” _B._ “Whom are the men with whom Mahéga has dug up the hatchet?” _M._ “Pale–faces, and cowardly red–skins, who are their friends.” When this reply was translated, a great sensation was visible among the Crows, several of whom whispered together. After receiving a few instructions from the chief, Besha proceeded with his inquiry. _B._ “Are the Pale–faces on the trail of Mahéga?” _M._ “They are.” _B._ “How many?” _M._ “Mahéga does not know.” _B._ “Is there a pale–faced warrior with them,—young and tall, riding a dark horse, very swift and strong?” _M._ “There is,” said the Osage, astonished in his turn at hearing Reginald thus accurately described by the interpreter. Again there was a murmur, and consultation among the Crows, after which Besha thus proceeded: “What is the wish of Mahéga? the Upsaroka ears are open.”