Chapter 3
THE GREAT CAMP ON THE ISLAND.Of different language, form and
face,
A various race of men.
Scott.
“You say that we shall see the Bridge of the Gods to-day?” asked
Cecil of the young Willamette runner the next morning. “Tell me
about it; is it high?”
The young Willamette rose to his full height, arched his right
hand above his eyes, looked skyward with a strained expression as
if gazing up at an immense height, and emitted a prolonged
“ah-h-h!”
That was all, but it was enough to bring the light to Cecil’s
eyes and a sudden triumphant gladness to his heart. At last he
approached the land of his vision, at last he should find the
bridge whose wraith had faded before him into the west eight years
before!
The Cayuse band had started early that morning. The chief
Snoqu
