The regular time approached, when the partners of the interior—­posts were to rendezvous at the mouth of the Wallah-Wallah, on their way to Astoria, with the peltries they had collected.  Mr. Clarke accordingly packed all his furs on twenty-eight horses, and, leaving a clerk and four men to take charge of the post, departed on the 25th of May with the residue of his force.

On the 30th, he arrived at the confluence of the Pavion and Lewis rivers, where he had left his barge and canoes, in the guardianship of the old Pierced-nosed chieftain.  That dignitary had acquitted himself more faithfully to his charge than Mr. Clarke had expected, and the canoes were found in very tolerable order.  Some repairs were necessary, and, while they were making, the party encamped close by the village.  Having had repeated and vexatious proofs of the pilfering propensities of this tribe during his former visit, Mr. Clarke ordered that a wary eye should be kept upon them.

He was a tall, good-looking man, and somewhat given to pomp and circumstance, which made him an object of note in the eyes of the wondering savages.  He was stately, too, in his appointments, and had a silver goblet or drinking cup, out of which he would drink with a magnificent air, and then lock it up in a large garde vin, which accompanied him in his travels, and stood in his tent.  This goblet had originally been sent as a present from Mr. Astor to Mr. M’Kay, the partner who had unfortunately been blown up in the Tonquin.  As it reached Astoria after the departure of that gentleman, it had remained in the possession of Mr. Clarke.

A silver goblet was too glittering a prize not to catch the eye of a Pierced-nose.  It was like the shining tin case of John Reed.  Such a wonder had never been seen in the land before.  The Indians talked about it to one another.  They marked the care with which it was deposited in the garde vin, like a relic in its shrine, and concluded that it must be a “great medicine.”  That night Mr. Clarke neglected to lock up his treasure; in the morning the sacred casket was open—­the precious relic gone!

Clarke was now outrageous.  All the past vexations that he had suffered from this pilfering community rose to mind, and he threatened that, unless the goblet was promptly returned, he would hang the thief, should he eventually discover him.  The day passed away, however, without the restoration of the cup.  At night sentinels were secretly posted about the camp.  With all their vigilance, a Pierced-nose contrived to get into the camp unperceived, and to load himself with booty; it was only on his retreat that he was discovered and taken.

At daybreak the culprit was brought to trial, and promptly convicted.  He stood responsible for all the spoliations of the camp, the precious goblet among the number, and Mr. Clarke passed sentence of death upon him.