dared provoke the wrath of the manitou whose breath sparkled in the

medicine waters. None? Yes, one. For, centuries ago a Shoshone and a

Comanche stopped here on their return from a hunt to drink. The Shoshone

had been successful; the Comanche was empty handed and ill tempered,

jealous of the other's skill and fortune. Flinging down the fat deer that

he was bearing homeward on his shoulders, the Shoshone bent over the

spring of sweet water, and, after pouring a handful of it on the ground,

as a libation to the spirit of the place, he put his lips to the surface.

It needed but faint pretext for his companion to begin a quarrel, and he

did so in this fashion: Why does a stranger drink at the spring-head

when one of the owners of the fountain contents himself with its

overflow? How does a Shoshone dare to drink above me?



The other replied, The Great Spirit places the water at the spring that

his children may drink it undefiled. I am Ausaqua, chief of Shoshones,

and I drink at the head-water. Shoshone and Comanche are brothers. Let

them drink together.



No. The Shoshone pays tribute to the Comanche, and Wacomish leads that

nation to war. He is chief of the Shoshone as he is of his own people.



Wacomish lies. His tongue is forked, like the snake's. His heart is

black. When the Great Spirit made his children he said not to one, 'Drink

here,' and to another, 'Drink there,' but gave water that all might

drink.



The other made no answer, but as Ausaqua stooped toward the bubbling

surface Wacomish crept behind him, flung himself against the hunter,

forced his head beneath the water, and held him there until he was

drowned. As he pulled the dead body from the spring the water became

agitated, and from the bubbles arose a vapor that gradually assumed the

form of a venerable Indian, with long white locks, in whom the murderer

recognized Waukauga, father of the Shoshone and Comanche nation, and a

man whose heroism and goodness made his name revered in both these

tribes. The face of the patriarch was dark with wrath, and he cried, in

terrible tones, Accursed of my race! This day thou hast severed the

mightiest nation in the world. The blood of the brave Shoshone appeals

for vengeance. May the water of thy tribe be rank and bitter in their

throats.



Then, whirling up an elk-horn club, he brought it full on the head of the

wretched man, who cringed before him. The murderer's head was burst open

and he tumbled lifeless into the spring, that to this day is nauseous,

while, to perpetuate the memory of Ausaqua, the manitou smote a

neighboring rock, and from it gushed a fountain of delicious water. The

bodies were found, and the partisans of both the hunters began on that

day a long and destructive warfare, in which other tribes became involved

until mountaineers were arrayed against plainsmen through all that

region.