of lofty mountains encompassed it; the woods were fresh and cool in the early morning; the peaks of the mountains were wreathed with mist, and sluggish vapors were entangled among the forests upon their sides.  At length the black pinnacle of the tallest mountain was tipped with gold by the rising sun.  About that time the Hail-Storm, who rode in front gave a low exclamation.  Some large animal leaped up from among the bushes, and an elk, as I thought, his horns thrown back over his neck, darted past us across the open space, and bounded like a mad thing away among the adjoining pines.  Raymond was soon out of his saddle, but before he could fire, the animal was full two hundred yards distant.  The ball struck its mark, though much too low for mortal effect.  The elk, however, wheeled in its flight, and ran at full speed among the trees, nearly at right angles to his former course.  I fired and broke his shoulder; still he moved on, limping down into the neighboring woody hollow, whither the young Indian followed and killed him.  When we reached the spot we discovered him to be no elk, but a black-tailed deer, an animal nearly twice the size of the common deer, and quite unknown to the East.  We began to cut him up; the reports of the rifles had reached the ears of the Indians, and before our task was finished several of them came to the spot.  Leaving the hide of the deer to the Hail-Storm, we hung as much of the meat as we wanted behind our saddles, left the rest to the Indians, and resumed our journey.  Meanwhile the village was on its way, and had gone so far that to get in advance of it was impossible.  Therefore we directed our course so as to strike its line of march at the nearest point.  In a short time, through the dark trunks of the pines, we could see the figures of the Indians as they passed.  Once more we were among them.  They were moving with even more than their usual precipitation, crowded close together in a narrow pass between rocks and old pine trees.  We were on the eastern descent of the mountain, and soon came to a rough and difficult defile, leading down a very steep declivity.  The whole swarm poured down together, filling the rocky passageway like some turbulent mountain stream.  The mountains before us were on fire, and had been so for weeks.  The view in front was obscured by a vast dim sea of smoke and vapor, while on either hand the tall cliffs, bearing aloft their crest of pines, thrust their heads boldly through it, and the sharp pinnacles and broken ridges of the mountains beyond them were faintly traceable as through a veil.  The scene in itself was most grand and imposing, but with the savage multitude, the armed warriors, the naked children, the gayly appareled girls, pouring impetuously down the heights, it would have formed a noble subject for a painter, and only the pen of a Scott could have done it justice in description.