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tion in these pages. This is a book not of the Indian woman's love, ..." Then he told of a farewell which he meant at the time not to be permanent: "Good-byes were said, I led my steed a little way, and an Indian woman walked at my side. Some things shall be sacred. Recital is sometimes profanity. It was a sudden impulse that made me. . . unwind my red silk sash, wave a farewell wit... , tos... to her, and bid her kee... till my return... . " Finally, after wha... liked to tell the reader was a delicate and hallowed reserve all through the book, but what was actually an ingenious trick of literary suspense, he described with greater detail the final parting with the daughter of "the great chief of the Shastas" but not with Cajli Shasta: Why had I returned here? The reasons were many and all-sufficient. Among others I had heard that another had come upon the scene. A rumor had reached me that a little brown girl was flitting through these forests; wild, frightene... the sight of man, timid, sensitive, and strangely beautiful. Who was she? Was she the last of the family of Mountain Joe? Was she one of the Doctor's children, half prophetess, half spirit, gliding through the pines, shunning the face of the Saxon, or was she even something more? Well, her... a little secret which shall remain hers. Sh... a dreamer, and delights in mystery. Who she was or who sh... I have hardly a right to say. Her nam... Calli Shasta. What was I to do? Leave her to perish there in the gath ering storm that was to fall upon the Modocs and their few allies, or tear her away from her mother and the mountains? But where was the little maiden now, as I looked from the battlement on the world below? They told me she was with my Modocs away to the east among the lakes. I waited, enquired, delayed many days, but neither she nor her mother would appear. Her mother, poor, broken-hearted Indian woman, once a princess, was afraid I would carry away her little girl. At last I bade farewell and turned down the wind ing hill. I heard a cry and looked up. There on the wall she stood, waving a red scarf. Wa... the same? Surel... was the same I had thrown her years and years before, when I left the land of fugitive. There was a little girl beside her, too, not so brown