t place.
I rode down to the banks of the beautiful, arrowy Klamat misspelled Klamath with a thousand peaceful Indians in sight.
A deep, swift stream it was then, beautiful and blue as the skies; but not so now. The miners have filled its bed with tailings from the sluice and torn; they have dumped, and dyked, and mined in this beautiful river-bed till it flows sullen and turbid enough. Its Indian name signifies the " giver " or "generous," from the wealth of salmon it gave the red men till the white man came to its banks.
The salmon will not ascend the muddy water from the sea. They come no more, and the red men are gone.
As I rode down to the narrow river, I saw a tall, strong, and elegant-looking gentleman in top boots and red sash, standing on the banks calling to the ferryman on the opposite side.
Up to this moment, it seemed to me I had never yet seen a perfect man. This one now before me seemed to leave nothing to be desired in all that goes to make the comely and complete gentleman. Young I should say he was hardly twenty-five and yet thoroughly thoughtful and in earnest. There was command in his quiet face and a dignity in his presence, yet a gentleness, too, that won me there, and made it seem possible to approach as near his heart as it is well for one man to approach that of another.
This, thought I, as I stood waiting for th
