root, and the third, to his great joy, was the carven image of an elk’s head.  This was his own tamanous, and right joyous was he at the omen, so taking his elk-horn pick he began to dig right sturdily at the foot of the monument.  At the sound of the very first blow he made, thirteen gigantic otters came out of the black lake and, sitting in a circle, watched him.  And at every thirteenth blow they tapped the ground with their tails in concert The miser heeded them not, but labored lustily for hours.  At last, overturning a thin scale of rock, he found a square cavity filled to the brim with hiaqua.

“He was a millionaire.

“The otters retired to a respectful distance, recognizing him as a favorite of Tamanous.

“He reveled in the treasure, exulting.  Deep as he could plunge his arm, there was still more hiaqua below.  It was strung upon elk sinews, fifty shells on a string.  But he saw the noon was passed, so he prepared to depart.  He loaded himself with countless strings of hiaqua, by fifties and hundreds, so that he could scarcely stagger along.  Not a string did he hang on the tamanous of the elk, or the salmon, or the kamas—­not one—­but turned eagerly toward his long descent.  At once all the otters plunged back into the lake and began to beat the waters with their tails; a thick, black mist began to rise threateningly.  Terrible are the storms in the mountains—­and Tamanous was in this one.  Instantly the fierce whirlwind overtook the miser.  He was thrown down and flung over icy banks, but he clung to his precious burden.  Utter night was around him, and in every crash and thunder of the gale was a growing undertone which he well knew to be the voice of Tamanous.  Floating upon this undertone were sharper tamanous voices, shouting and screaming, always sneeringly, ‘Ha, ha, hiaqua!—­ha, ha, ha!’ Whenever the miser attempted to continue his descent the whirlwind caught him and tossed him hither and thither, flinging him into a pinching crevice, burying him to the eyes in a snow drift, throwing him on jagged boulders, or lacerating him on sharp lava jaws.  But he held fast to his hiaqua.  The blackness grew ever deeper and more crowded with perdition; the din more impish, demoniac, and devilish; the laughter more appalling; and the miser more and more exhausted with vain buffeting.  He at last thought to propitiate exasperated Tamanous, and threw away a string of hiaqua.  But the storm was renewed blacker, louder, crueler than before.  String by string he parted with his treasure, until at the last, sorely wounded, terrified, and weak, with a despairing cry, he cast from him the last vestige of wealth, and sank down insensible.

[Illustration:  Rooster rock, Columbia river, ore.  On the Union Pacific Ry.]