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Netter’s Concise
Radiologic
Anatomy
Edward C. Weber, DO
Joel A. Vilensky, PhD
Stephen W. Carmichael, PhD

Illustrations by Frank H. Netter, MD

Contributing Illustrator
Carlos A.G. Machado, MD
Preface

Diagnostic medical images are now an integral component of contemporary courses

in Medical Gross Anatomy. This primarily reflects the steadily increasing teaching of
clinical correlations within such courses. Accordingly, radiologic images now are
included in all gross anatomy atlases and textbooks. These images are typically plain
radiographs, axial CT/MRI (computed tomography/magnetic resonance image)
scans, and angiograms of various portions of the vascular system.
Although such images reflect the capabilities of diagnostic imaging technology
perhaps 15 years ago, they do not reflect the full integration of computer graphics
capabilities into radiology. This integration has resulted in a tremendous expansion
in the ability of radiology to represent human anatomy. The active process of refor-
matting imaging data into optimal planes and types of image reconstruction that
best illustrate anatomic/pathologic features is not limited to academic centers. To
the contrary, the graphics workstation is now a common tool used in the practice
of diagnostic radiology. Special views and image reconstructions are currently part
of the diagnostic process and are usually made available to all those participating
in the care of a patient, along with an interpretation by the radiologist that describes
the pathology and relevant anatomy.
This situation led us to the realization that any student of anatomy would benefit
from early exposure to the manner of appearance of key anatomic structures in
diagnostic images, especially advanced CTs and MRIs. Thus, we (a radiologist and
two anatomists) chose to develop a handbook that illustrates how modern radiology
portrays human anatomy. To accomplish this task, we decided to match modern
diagnostic images with a subset of the anatomic drawings from the Atlas of Human
Anatomy by Dr. Frank H. Netter. Netter’s atlas has become the “gold standard” of
human anatomy atlases. Its images are quite familiar to the vast majority of students
who complete a course in human gross anatomy. By providing a bridge from the
manner in which anatomic features appear in Netter’s atlas to their appearance in
radiologic images, this book will enable the acquisition of comfortable familiarity with
how human anatomy is typically viewed in clinical practice.
In selecting and creating images for this atlas, we frequently had to choose
between diagnostic images that are in very common use (axial, coronal, and sagittal
slices) or images that result from more advanced reconstruction techniques—images
that more clearly depict anatomic structures and relationships. When a “routine”
image was found that matched a Netter plate well and illustrated key anatomic
points, it was selected. However, we decided to include many advanced image

vii
viii Preface

reconstructions such as maximum intensity projections and volume rendered dis-

plays because these will be the routine images of the near future.
Although the idealized anatomy depicted in the Netter plates is wonderful for
teaching anatomic relationships, they can sometimes lead to confusion pertaining
to recognizing structures “in real life.” A perfect example is the suprarenal (adrenal)
gland. When a radiologist looks at a Netter plate showing the adrenal gland, he or
she will likely think, “This is not how the gland appears radiologically.” We felt it
important to select some images that highlight the differences in the manner that
some structures appear radiologically versus anatomically.
The physician must understand that anatomic structures often appear quite dif-
ferently from the Netter drawings when shown on a cross-sectional image. Curved
structures may enter and leave a thin imaging plane so that the structure appears
as two or more “structures” on a cross-sectional image. Similarly, only part of a
structure may appear on an image because of such curvatures. For example, the
normal kyphotic and lordotic curvatures of the spine may be anterior or posterior to
a particular coronal section. Furthermore, when the plane of a thin imaging “slice”
is oblique to an anatomic structure, the appearance of that structure may be dis-
torted. A common example is that blood vessels may appear ovoid instead of round
if a cross-sectional image is oblique to the axis of that vessel. We selected some
images in which these “distortions” were apparent and noted this in the associated
text.
Images in this Atlas that are not credited to an outside source all originated at
The Imaging Center, Fort Wayne, Indiana. They were obtained from routine clinical
scanning at this small, independent practice of diagnostic radiology. Because of
concern about radiation exposure, no standard CT scan protocols were ever modi-
fied for the sake of producing an image. CT image data for the book were processed
after patients had undergone routine scanning appropriate to the medical reasons
for which the scans were requested, and after all patient identifiers had been
removed. None of these images originated in a university or corporate imaging labo-
ratory. The Imaging Center MRI scanner is an Infinion scanner from Philips Corpora-
tion. The CT scanner used is a Brilliance 40, and the graphics workstation is the
Extended Brilliance Workspace. Both of these are also manufactured by Philips.
We understand that learning to interpret radiologic images requires reference to
normal anatomy. Accordingly, we believe our atlas will facilitate this process by the
closing of a common mental gap between how an anatomic feature looks in an
anatomic atlas versus its appearance in clinical imaging.

Edward C. Weber, Joel A. Vilensky, and Stephen W. Carmichael

About the Authors

Dr. Edward C. Weber was born and educated in Philadelphia. He has a BA from
Temple University and a DO from the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine.
Dr. Weber spent 4 years at the Albert Einstein Medical Center in Philadelphia in a
1-year surgical internship and a 3-year residency in diagnostic radiology. In 1980,
the Journal of the American Medical Association published an article he wrote
describing a new percutaneous interventional biliary procedure. After achieving
certification by the American Board of Radiology, he began private practice in 1980
and in 1981 became a founding member of a radiology group based in Fort Wayne,
Indiana. After 15 years of hospital radiology practice, Dr. Weber joined The Imaging
Center, a private outpatient facility. At the Fort Wayne campus of the Indiana Uni-
versity School of Medicine, Dr. Weber presents radiology lectures within the Medical
Gross Anatomy course and is course director for Introduction to Clinical Medicine.
He and his wife, Ellen, have a son who graduated from Brown University and is
pursuing graduate studies at City University of New York, and a daughter who gradu-
ated from Wellesley College and is a graduate student at Carnegie Mellon University.
Ellen and he celebrated his 50th birthday at the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and they
spend as much time as possible at their home in Big Sky, Montana, where he is
Consultant Radiologist for The Medical Clinic of Big Sky.

Dr. Joel A. Vilensky is originally from Bayside, New York, but has been teaching
Medical Gross Anatomy at the Fort Wayne campus of Indiana University School of
Medicine for almost 30 years. He graduated from Michigan State University in 1972
and received an MA from the University of Chicago in 1972 and a PhD from the
University of Wisconsin in 1979. He has authored nearly 100 research papers on
many topics, most recently on the 1920s worldwide epidemic of encephalitis lethar-
gica, and in 2005 had a book published by Indiana University Press: Dew of Death:
The Story of Lewisite, America’s World War I Weapon of Mass Destruction. Dr.
Vilensky is a coeditor of Clinical Anatomy for which he edits the Compendium of
Anatomical Variants. Dr. Vilensky and his wife Deborah have two daughters, one
a music teacher in Brooklyn, New York, and the other a law student at Indiana
University School of Law in Bloomington. Dr. Vilensky is a contented “workaholic”
but also enjoys watching television with his wife, traveling, and exercising.

Dr. Stephen W. Carmichael is originally from Modesto, California (featured in the

movie American Graffiti) and was on the staff at the Mayo Clinic for 25 years, serving
as Chair of the Department of Anatomy for 14 years. He graduated from Kenyon

xi
xii About the Authors

College, which honored him with a DSc degree in 1989. He earned the PhD degree
in anatomy at Tulane University in 1971. He is author or coauthor of over 140 publi-
cations in peer-reviewed journals and 7 books, the majority relating to the adrenal
medulla. He is a consulting editor of the fourth and fifth editions of the Atlas of
Human Anatomy and Editor-in-Chief of Clinical Anatomy. Dr. Carmichael is married
to Dr. Susan Stoddard and has a son who works for a newspaper in Boulder, Colo-
rado. Dr. Carmichael is a certified scuba diver at the professional level, and he is
challenged by underwater photography.
Acknowledgments

We are very grateful to many individuals for assisting us in developing this Atlas. We
would like to thank Elsevier for accepting our book proposal and Anne Lenehan,
Elyse O’Grady, and Marybeth Thiel for championing it and assisting us with every
stage of the book’s development. Among these three individuals, we had almost
daily interactions with Ms. Thiel and were constantly impressed, amazed, and grate-
ful for her diligence and efforts to make this Atlas as good as it could be. Much of
the credit for the final appearance of this book belongs to her. We are similarly grate-
ful to Ms. Rhoda Bontrager, Graphic World’s production editor for this project, who
tirelessly assisted us with the final proofs associated with this book.
We would also like to thank the 2007 first- and second-year medical students at
Indiana University School of Medicine–Fort Wayne for their suggestions to improve
this book.
We extend our appreciation to Robert Conner, MD, who established The Imaging
Center in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where so much of the work for this book was com-
pleted, and who was very supportive of this effort. The Imaging Center is staffed by
nuclear medicine, mammography, general radiology, ultrasonography, CT, and MR
technologists who not only conduct diagnostic procedures with superb technical
skill but also (equally important) do so with great care for the personal needs of our
patients. Those technologists who conducted procedures that resulted in the largest
number of images for this book were Kristen Firestone, RT; Mike Raymond, RT;
Spencer Tipton, RT; and Bruce Roach, RT.
As a final note, we would like to thank the patients whose images appear in this
book and Drs. Frank Netter and Carlos Machado for their artistic insights into human
anatomy.

ix
1600 John F. Kennedy Blvd.
Ste 1800
Philadelphia, PA 19103-2899

NETTER’S CONCISE RADIOLOGIC ANATOMY ISBN: 978-1-4160-5619-5

Copyright © 2009 by Saunders, an imprint of Elsevier Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Permissions for Netter Art figures may be sought directly from Elsevier’s Health Science
Licensing Department in Philadelphia, PA, USA: phone 1-800-523-1649, ext. 3276, or (215)
239-3276; or email H.Licensing@elsevier.com.

Notice

Neither the Publisher nor the Authors assume any responsibility for any loss or injury
and/or damage to persons or property arising out of or related to any use of the material
contained in this book. It is the responsibility of the treating practitioner, relying on
independent expertise and knowledge of the patient, to determine the best treatment
and method of application for the patient.

The Publisher

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Weber, Edward, D.O.

Netter’s concise radiologic anatomy / Edward Weber, Joel A. Vilensky, Stephen W.
Carmichael ; illustrations by Frank H. Netter; contributing illustrator, Carlos A.G. Machado.—
1st ed.
p. ; cm.
ISBN 978-1-4160-5619-5
1. Diagnosis, Radioscopic—Atlases. 2. Human anatomy—Atlases. I. Netter, Frank H.
(Frank Henry), 1906-1991. II. Vilensky, Joel A., 1951– III. Carmichael, Stephen W.
IV. Title. V. Title: Concise radiologic anatomy.
[DNLM: 1. Diagnostic Imaging—Atlases. 2. Anatomy—Atlases. WN 17 W364n 2009]
RC78.2.W43 2009
616.07′57—dc22
2008013394

Editor: Elyse O’Grady

Developmental Editor: Marybeth Thiel
Editorial Assistant: Liam Jackson
Project Manager: Mary Stermel
Design Manager: Gene Harris
Illustrations Manager: Karen Giacomucci
Working together to grow
Marketing Manager: Jason Oberacker libraries in developing countries
www.elsevier.com | www.bookaid.org | www.sabre.org

Printed in China

Last digit is the print number: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

This book would not have been possible without the love and
support of our wonderful wives, Ellen S. Weber, Deborah K.
Meyer-Vilensky, and Susan L. Stoddard, who graciously allowed
us to spend countless weekends staring at radiographic images
instead of spending time with them. We greatly appreciate all that
they do for us and their tolerance of our many eccentricities.
Frank H. Netter, MD

Frank H. Netter was born in 1906 in New York City. He studied art at the Art Stu-
dent’s League and the National Academy of Design before entering medical school
at New York University, where he received his MD degree in 1931. During his student
years, Dr. Netter’s notebook sketches attracted the attention of the medical faculty
and other physicians, allowing him to augment his income by illustrating articles and
textbooks. He continued illustrating as a sideline after establishing a surgical prac-
tice in 1933, but he ultimately opted to give up his practice in favor of a full-time
commitment to art. After service in the United States Army during World War II, Dr.
Netter began his long collaboration with the CIBA Pharmaceutical Company (now
Novartis Pharmaceuticals). This 45-year partnership resulted in the production of
the extraordinary collection of medical art so familiar to physicians and other medical
professionals worldwide.
Icon Learning Systems acquired the Netter Collection in July 2000 and continued
to update Dr. Netter’s original paintings and to add newly commissioned paintings
by artists trained in the style of Dr. Netter. In 2005, Elsevier Inc. purchased the Netter
Collection and all publications from Icon Learning Systems. There are now over 50
publications featuring the art of Dr. Netter available through Elsevier Inc.
Dr. Netter’s works are among the finest examples of the use of illustration in the
teaching of medical concepts. The 13-book Netter Collection of Medical Illustrations,
which includes the greater part of the more than 20,000 paintings created by Dr.
Netter, became and remains one of the most famous medical works ever published.
The Netter Atlas of Human Anatomy, first published in 1989, presents the anatomic
paintings from the Netter Collection. Now translated into 16 languages, it is the
anatomy atlas of choice among medical and health professions students the world
over.
The Netter illustrations are appreciated not only for their aesthetic qualities, but
more importantly, for their intellectual content. As Dr. Netter wrote in 1949, “ . . . clari-
fication of a subject is the aim and goal of illustration. No matter how beautifully
painted, how delicately and subtly rendered a subject may be, it is of little value as
a medical illustration if it does not serve to make clear some medical point.” Dr.
Netter’s planning, conception, point of view, and approach are what inform his paint-
ings and what make them so intellectually valuable.
Frank H. Netter, MD, physician and artist, died in 1991.

xiii
Netter's Concise Radiologic Anatomy, 1st Edition

Section I: Head and Neck

1. Skull, Basal View

2. Skull, Interior View

3. Upper Neck, Lower Head Osteology

4. Axis (C2)

5. Cervical Spine, Posterior View

6. Cervical Spondylosis

7. Vertebral, Artery, Neck

8. Vertebral Artery, Atlas

9. Craniovertebral Ligaments

10. Neck Muscles, Lateral View

11. Neck Muscles, Anterior view

12. Scalene and Prevertebral Muscles

13. Right Subclavian Artery, Origin

14. Carotid Artery System

15. Neck, Axial Section at Thryoid Gland

16. Nasal Conchae

17. Nasal Septum, Components

18. Nasal Septum, Hard and Soft Palate

19. Pterygopalatine Fossa

20. Nose and Paranasal Sinuses

21. Olfactory Bulbs

22. Ethmoid Air Cells and Sphenoid Sinus

23. Maxillary Sinus

24. Floor of Mouth

25. Facial Muscles

26. Temporomandibular Joint

27. Pterygoid Muscles

28. Tongue and Oral Cavity

29. Tongue, Coronal Section

30. Parotid and Submandibular Salivary Glands

31. Submandibular and Sublingual Salivary Glands

32. Pharynx, Median Sagittal Section

33. Carotid Arteries in the Neck

34. Thyroid Gland and Major Neck Vessels

35. Larynx

36. Nasolacrimal Duct

37. Orbit, Coronal Section

38. Orbit, Lateral View

39. Orbit, Superior Oblique Muscle and Tendon

40. Orbit, Superior View

41. Inner Ear

42. Facial Nerve in Canal

43. Tympanic Cavity (Middle Ear)

44. Bony Labyrinth

45. Superior Sagittal Sinus

46. Cerebral Venous Sinuses

47. Cavernous Sinus

48. Cerebral Venous System

49. Cerebral Cortex and Basal Ganglia, Axial Section

50. Cranial Nerves IX, X, XI

51. Brainstem, Midsaggital View

52. Optic Pathway

53. Vestibulocochlear Nerve (VIII)

54. Hypoglossal Nerve and Canal

55. Cervicothoracic (Stellate) Ganglion

56. Brain, Arterial Supply

57. Arteries of the Brain

58. Pituitary Gland

Section II: Back and Spinal Cord

59. Thoracic Spine

60. Lumbar Vertebrae

61. Structure of Lumbar Vertebrae

62. Lumbar Spine

63. Sacrum

64. Vertebral Ligaments

65. Ligamentum Flavus

66. Spinal Nerves, Lumbar

67. Spinal Cord, Nerve Roots

68. Conus Medullaris and Cauda Equina

69. Intercostal Vessels and Nerve, Posterior

70. Vertebral Venous Plexuses

71. Back, Lower Paraspinal Muscles

72. Deep Muscles of the Back

73. Semispinalis Capitis

74. Suboccipital Triangle

75. Lumbar Region, Cross Section

Section III: Thorax

76. Breast, Lateral View

77. Lymph Nodes of the Axilla

78. Anterior Chest Wall

79. Chest Wall Musculature

80. Costovertebral and Costotransverse Joints

81. Internal Thoracic Artery, Anterior Chest Wall

82. Diaphragm

83. Left Lung, Medial View

84. Right Lung, Lateral View

85. Lung, Segmental Bronchi

86. Mediastinum, Major Vessels

87. Lung, Lymph Drainage

88. Thoracic Duct

89. Heart Chambers

90. Branches of the Arch of Aorta

91. Heart, Posterior View

92. Coronary Vessels, Anterior View

93. Left side of the Heart

94. Aortic Valve

95. Umbilical Cord

96. Ductus Ateriosus and Ligamentum Arteriosum

97. Posterior Mediastinum

98. Mediastinum, Right Lateral View

99. Mediastinum, Left Lateral View with Pseudoaneurysm

100. Thoracic Esophagus

101. Esophagogastric Junction

102. Azygos and Hemiazygos Veins

103. Pericardium, Mediastinum Section

Section IV: Abdomen

104. Rectus Abdominis

105. Anterior Abdominal Wall Muscles

106. Abdominal Wall, Superficial View

107. Inguinal Region

108. Quadratus Lumborum

109. Psoas Major

110. Kidneys, Normal and Transplanted

111. Abdominal Regions

112. Appendix

113. Abdomen, Upper Viscera

114. Omental Bursa, Oblique Sections

115. Stomach in Situ

116. Stomach Mucosa

117. Duodenum and Pancreas

118. Liver, Vascular System

119. Bile and Pancreatic Ducts

120. Spleen, In Situ

121. Porta Hepatis and Greater Omentum

122. Porta Hepatis

123. Celiac Trunk, Normal and Variant

124. Arteries of the Small Bowel

125. Marginal Artery (of Drummond)

126. Veins of the Small Bowel

127. Chyle Cistern

128. Mesenteric Lymph Nodes

129. Celiac Plexus

130. Supraneal (Adrenal) Glands and Kidneys

131. Kidneys and Abdominal Aorta

132. Renal Arteries, Variation (Multiple)

133. Renal Pelvis

134. Ureter, Pelvis Aspect

135. Kidneys and Ureters

136. Kidneys and Associated Vessels

137. Kidney, Oblique Sagittal Section

138. Abdominal Viscera, Parasaggital Section

Section V: Pelvis and Perineum

139. Pelvis

140. Female Pelvis, Round Ligament and Ovary

141. Female Pelvic Viscera, Saggital View

142. Bulb of Penis, Coronal Section

143. Uterus and Uterine Tube

144. Uterus and Adnexa

145. Female Perineum

146. Penis, Cross Section

147. Bladder, Prostate and Seminal Vesicles

148. Prostate, Coronal View

149. Testis and Epidydymus

150. Ischioanal Fossa

151. Anal Musculature

152. Male Perineum

153. Ureters

154. Common, Internal and External Iliac Arteries

155. Inguinal Lymph Nodes

Section VI: Upper Limb

156. Anterior View of the Shoulder Girdle

Other documents randomly have
different content
The Prophet waved his hand in the direction of the boys.

“Reveal all you know concerning them,” he said, as if addressing an

invisible spirit above his head—invisible to all other eyes but his.

Then he appeared to listen for a moment; and in this moment the

boys could almost hear their hearts beat, in the intensity of their
interest in the proceedings. Smoholler nodded his head.

“It is enough, good Monedo,” he said. “Depart to the Land of

Shadows, from whence I summoned you.”

Then the Prophet came out of his trance, and addressed himself to
the first Percy.

“Your name is Percy Vere,” he said. “The locket you wear contains
the portraits of your father and your mother. Your companion is your
cousin, Percy Cute; and you are here in the wilderness seeking your
father.”
 CHAPTER X.
ONEOTAH.

To say that the boys were surprised by these words would

inadequately describe the emotion that seized upon them as they
listened to them—they were literally dumbfounded.

“Great heavens! this is wonderful!” cried Percy Vere. “What do you

think of it?” he added, appealing to his cousin.

“I take all back; old Smo’ is by no means slow!” responded Cute. “I

don’t wonder that he can bamboozle the benighted Indians, for he
has completely kerflummixed me.”

The warriors, who had drawn nearer when Smoholler dismissed his
spirit, uttered an approving grunt. It may be that the Prophet 47
had purposely availed himself of this opportunity of displaying
his divining power before them.

“Is what I have told you true?” he demanded of the boys.

“It is,” Percy Vere admitted.

“Every word of it,” added Cute. “This beats spirit-rapping all hollow;
your spirit comes without a rap, and his information don’t cost a
rap.”

“And having told me so much, I am led to believe you can also tell
me where I can find my father?” cried Percy Vere, eagerly.

The Prophet shook his head.

“I can learn from my spirit whether he is alive or dead, perhaps,” he

replied; “but Monedo does not care to seek for a pale-face; he hates
the white race, as I do.”
“You have a queer way of showing it,” exclaimed Cute. “I should
have been like poor uncle Ned, without any hair on the top of my
head, by this time, if it had not been for you.”

“Why have you spared our lives?” asked Percy. “The Indian seldom
extends mercy to a captive, I have heard.”

The Prophet laughed disdainfully.

“You have heard and read many things about the Indian,” he replied;
“but they are spoken and written by the pale-faces, and there is little
truth in them. I have spared your life that you may bear a message
to the surveyor’s camp for me. But first you shall partake of food
with me. You must feel the need of some refreshment.”

“Well, I feel peckish, and no mistake,” answered Cute. “So if you

have got any fodder, just tote it along.”

“Something to eat would not come amiss,” said Percy Vere. “We
intended to have been back with game to our camp before this.”

The Prophet laughed in his forbidding manner.

“Your camp will not get any game on this side of the river,” he
rejoined. “A dozen of my warriors guard the mouth of the ravine,
and it will be sure destruction to the pale-face who attempts to pass
through it. You would have fallen into the ambush, had you not
turned to the right and ascended the cliff.”

“How did you know the direction we had taken?” asked Percy, 48
curiously.

“A sentinel posted upon the cliff gave us warning. Nothing can

escape the vigilance of my scouts. They have eyes like hawks.
Yonder camp is hemmed in—they must recross the river or I shall
drive them into it.”
He clapped his hands and an Indian boy came bounding toward him
—a boy with a graceful, lithe form, and step as bounding as that of
an antelope. He was handsomely dressed, and wore the same colors
as the Prophet, and was, evidently, his familiar attendant, or page.

Like the Prophet, he wore a head-dress taken from an animal, but

his was the head of an antelope. The sharp horns were left, and the
whole face of the animal preserved in such a manner that the boy’s
face was completely covered by it, and his dark eyes glistened
through the eye-holes; and so nicely was the skin fitted to his face,
that he appeared to be a boy with an antelope’s head.

“Jumping ginger!” exclaimed Cute, as the boy bounded lightly

forward; “what kind of a critter is that, anyway?”

“Glyndon was mistaken,” remarked Percy, thoughtfully, as he

watched the Indian boy’s approach.

“In what?”

“It was his tracks we saw. There’s no squaw in the party.”

“That’s so, by king! I never thought of it before; but you are right,
there isn’t.”

“Oneotah,” said the Prophet to the boy; “prepare some venison

steaks for us.”

The boy made a respectful obeisance.

“Yes, master,” he replied, in tones that were singularly clear and bell-
like, and then he hastened to obey.

Cute smacked his lips.

“Venison-steaks, a-la-mode de Indian!” he exclaimed. “I think I can

put myself outside of some without any difficulty.”
“I must confess to being rather sharp set myself,” replied Percy.
“That tramp through the thicket, and the lively fight afterward, have
freshened up my appetite to a degree.”

“The food will be quickly served,” said the Prophet. “See, 49

Nature spreads her table for us. Come.”

He led the way to a square bowlder that reared its form from the
turf beside a little streamlet that went purling by on its way to the
river, its clear, crystal water looking cool and refreshing. The Prophet
cast himself down beside the rock, and the boys followed his
example. As they glanced through the arches of the forest they saw
several fires blazing in different directions, and groups of Indians
clustered around them. General preparations for a meal were in
progress.

The boys were impressed by the romance of the scene, and Cute
conveyed his idea of it by exclaiming, rather unpoetically:

“Say, Percy, ain’t this high? You said you would like to see Smoholler,
the Prophet, and here we are, invited to take an al fresco dinner
with him.”

The Prophet raised himself upon his elbow, and regarded Percy Vere
earnestly.

“Why did you wish to see me?” he asked.

“Because I thought you might give me some intelligence of my

father,” answered Percy.

“Why should you think so?”

“Because you are a man of great intelligence. I heard so before I

saw you, and I am satisfied of it now.”

The Prophet inclined his head as if pleased with the compliment.

“You possess a wonderful power over the Indians, I can see—and I
think few parties of hunters could cross the river, which you watch
so jealously, unknown to you.”

“You are right; my spies are everywhere, my commands implicitly

obeyed. Along the course of yonder mighty river, from its rocky
source to where it empties into the ocean, there is no chief who is
respected and feared like Smoholler. Already my warriors outnumber
the fighting men of the other tribes, and daily I am gaining
accessions to my ranks. They come to listen to the recital of my
dreams, and they remain, satisfied that the power I profess is not an
idle boast. You shall pay me a visit to Priest’s Rapids, if you like, and
I will show you the germ of a growing nation. Ah! the day will come,
and it is not far distant, when the tribes of the Pacific Slope 50
will be gathered into one grand confederacy which will
acknowledge Smoholler as its chief.”

The Prophet’s breast heaved and his eyes dilated with a fervid
enthusiasm, as he pronounced these words.

“An Indian emperor!” exclaimed Cute. “Bully for you!”

“And why not? The descendants of the Aztecs and Toltecs still roam
these plains and mountains. Why should not I revive the glories of
Montezuma’s empire?”

“Montezuma’s power fell before the white man’s advance, and I fear
the white settlers crowd too closely upon your projected empire,”
replied Percy Vere. “But it is a great idea, and that you may prosper
is my sincere wish. I would like to see the red-man raised to a better
position than that he now occupies. You are the best judge of his
capabilities. The white hunters are too prone to regard him in the
light of a savage beast—and not without some cause, either.”

“Cause? The first offense came from the white man!” cried the
Prophet, fiercely.
“It may be so; but, in our particular instance, if you had let us alone,
we should not have troubled you.”
 CHAPTER XI.
A SILVAN REPAST.

The Prophet laughed in that rasping manner so peculiar to him. It

was not a pleasant kind of mirth to listen to. It set Percy Cute’s teeth
on edge every time he heard it.

“You had set foot upon my territory after my warning,” he cried.

“You know the penalty of trespassing.”

“Ah! then you had some hand in the apparitions that appeared upon
the cliff last night?”

“They came at my bidding.”

At this moment the Indian boy, Oneotah, brought them a venison

steak upon a birch platter, some parched corn, and three drinking-
horns. He placed the venison and corn before them, and then 51
filled the drinking-horns from the streamlet.

Smoholler did the honors of this silvan table with a courtesy that
won strangely upon the boys, and Oneotah stood beside him, ready
to do his bidding at the slightest sign.

“What did the surveyors and the soldiers think of the apparitions?”
asked Smoholler, after the boys had eaten for a while.

“They were surprised by them,” answered Percy.

“Knocked ’em higher’n a kite!” added Cute. “It was a neat piece of
hocus-pocus, however you did it. Say, couldn’t you give us another
squint at that angelic female of yours?”

“The White Spirit will come at my bidding,” replied the Prophet.

“Would you like to see her?” he demanded of Percy Vere.
“Wherefore?” rejoined the youth.

“She might give you intelligence of your father?”

Percy started at this, but shook his head incredulously after a

moment’s reflection. The Prophet appeared to divine his thoughts.

“You do not believe her to be a spirit?” he asked.

“Candidly, I do not.”

“How, then, could she appear upon the face of that inaccessible
cliff?”

Percy Vere smiled.

“That is a secret best known to yourself,” he rejoined. “At the risk of

offending you I must tell you that I believe you to be a skillful
Professor of Legerdemain, and by the exercise of it you have gained
your ascendancy over the rude minds of the Indians.”

“Far from feeling offense, I like your candor,” responded the Prophet,
graciously. “My power impresses the white mind as well as the red—
as you shall have proof anon. You heard the voice of my Monedo, or
Spirit, in the air—you heard his voice, but his body remained invisible
to your eye. How can you account for that?”

“You may have the gift of ventriloquism. My father had such a gift,
for I have often heard my mother describe it. He could throw 52
his voice into inanimate or animate objects to the great
perplexity of the hearer.”

“Yes,” chimed in Cute, “and I have heard lots of funny stories about
him. One day an old woman came to the house to make some
inquiries, and trod, by accident, upon the cat’s tail; and he made the
cat say: ‘You old fool! don’t you know any better than that?’ It nearly
frightened the old woman into a fit, and she left the house in a big
hurry, I tell you; and she believed to her dying day that the cat really
spoke to her.”

Oneotah indulged in a musical laugh at this recital.

The boys regarded him curiously.

“Holloa! does he understand what I say?” asked Cute.

“Perfectly,” replied the Prophet. “English is as familiar to him as his

own tongue.”

“And to yourself,” rejoined Percy Vere, pointedly.

“Yes.”

“Do you know I have a suspicion concerning you?”

“Indeed! What is it?”

“I think that you are a white man.”

The Prophet laughed.

“Do I look like one?” he returned.

“It is impossible to say what you look like with those hideous daubs
of paint upon your face; but you talk like one—and, besides, you are
too smart for an Indian.”

“Them’s my sentiments!” cried Cute. “Smoholler, you beat all the

chiefs I ever heard of all hollow.”

“Smoholler is the great Prophet of the Snakes,” exclaimed Oneotah,

fervidly. “Wherever his name is known it is feared and dreaded. His
followers are many—his enemies perish, like the withered grass
beneath the fire, when his wrath pursues them.”
“The boy is one of your converts, I perceive,” said Percy, with a
smile. “He believes in you.”

“He has good cause,” answered the Prophet, sententiously. “I saved

his life.”

“Oh! more than life!” exclaimed Oneotah. “If it was only death that
threatened me—”

The Prophet held up his finger warningly, and Oneotah paused and
bowed his head submissively.

“Oneotah is Smoholler’s slave,” he continued. “Until death, or 53

his lips release me, I have sworn to do his bidding.”

“Enough! your bondage will not last until death,” returned Smoholler,
with a significancy which the boys could feel but could not
understand. “Be faithful but a short time longer, and you shall be
restored to your true condition—and the spirits shall no longer
torment you.”

The Indian boy appeared to be much gratified by this assurance.

“It is good,” he answered. “The heart of Smoholler is noble, he will

not deceive me.”

Percy Vere was much interested in Oneotah.

“Of what tribe is he?” he asked.

“He was reared by the Nez Perces, but is not of their blood, although
he thinks he is,” replied Smoholler. “There is a secret concerning his
birth, which my skill has divined, and which no other appears to
have suspected. He was made captive by a band of Yakimas under a
chief named Howlish Wampo, who had surprised and defeated the
party to which he was attached. I came up with Howlish Wampo at a
critical moment in the boy’s fate, and took him away from the chief.
Wampo bears me a grudge for it to this day. He would like to gain
possession of the boy again, but dare not do so while I protect him.
If Oneotah were to rejoin the Nez Perces he would no longer be safe
from the pursuit of Howlish Wampo.”

Oneotah shuddered, and Percy Vere felt, without exactly

understanding why, that there was a covert threat in these words of
the Prophet.

“Multuomah could protect me,” answered Oneotah, plaintively.

“No; not against Howlish Wampo,” answered the Prophet,

impressively. “Have patience; all I have promised shall come true.”

Oneotah bowed his head again in his submissive manner.

“I am content,” he answered.

“Why does he wear that antelope’s head?” asked Percy Vere.

“To carry out his name.”

“You call him the Antelope?”

“Among my followers he is known by that name.” 54

“But the other name—Oneotah?”

“Is one known only to ourselves.”

“But it is his true name?”

“Yes.”

“But that head is like a mask, it hides his face.”

“For that purpose it is worn.”

Percy was somewhat surprised by this.

“You do not wish his face to be seen?” he asked.

“No; he has dangerous enemies. None here know him but myself.
The shield of my power falls over him, and his influence in my camp
is second only to my own. Now, our meal being ended, you shall
return to your friends. You have seen a portion of my force, and
know my determination. Tell the surveyors and the lieutenant that I
will not permit them to advance through the ravine. They must
recross the river, or be annihilated. For yourself, if you choose to
return, there is a mystic cavern in yonder cliff, and together we will
summon the spirits that await my bidding, and seek to learn your
father’s fate. Will you do so?”

“I will,” answered Percy, resolutely.

 CHAPTER XII.
THE TREE-LADDER.

Smoholler turned to Oneotah.

“Give me two amulets,” he said.

The Antelope boy took two little pouches, made of skin, and richly
trimmed with beads, from a kind of large pocket that he wore
suspended from a belt around his waist. These were attached to
strings made of different-colored strips of doe-skin twisted together.
Smoholler gave one to each of the boys.

“Wear these,” he said. “They are marked with my totem, and I have
charmed them. They are amulets of great power, and they will
preserve you from harm. No Indian who knows Smoholler’s 55
sign will raise his hand against the wearer of his amulet.”

“I thank you for the gift,” returned Percy Vere, “and shall always
treasure it as the memento of a wonderful man.”

“And so shall I,” cried Cute. “This will be more efficacious in

preserving my top-knot than Professor Ike’s Restorative, I’m
thinking. Now, how shall we get back to camp? Roll a log into the
river and float down upon it, or go back the way we came?”

“There is a trail along the cliff,” said Smoholler. “Oneotah will guide
you a part of the way. Remember, return this evening, and I will
show you a proof of my magical power that will astonish you.”

The boys promised to do so, shook hands cordially with the Prophet,
notwithstanding his hideous war-paint, and followed Oneotah, who
bounded lightly on before.
The way was a rough one, and they had some difficulty in keeping
up with Oneotah, who sprung over the bowlders and fallen trees in
the path with the nimbleness of a goat.

A toilsome tramp of an hour brought them to a beetling crag that

jutted into the water, and appeared to bar all further progress in that
direction. Here Oneotah paused, and the boys joined him, panting
and breathless.

“Phew! how are we going to get over that?” cried Cute; surveying
the impediment in dismay.

Oneotah pointed to a tall spruce tree that grew beside the crag.

“Climb this,” he said, “and from its branches you can reach the top
of the rock.”

“Show! I should never have thought of that.”

“Beyond it lies your camp. The descent upon the other side is easy.
You can climb?”

“You had better believe it—like a monkey! Good-by, Antelope. Shake

hands before we slope.”

Oneotah extended his hand cordially, but he winced a little under the
vigorous grasp that Percy Cute bestowed upon him, for the fat hands
of the boy had quite a degree of strength in them. Cute laughed as
Oneotah quickly released his fingers from the roguish squeeze,
uttering a suppressed “O—h!”

“Did I hurt you?” asked Cute, with well-assumed innocence. 56

Oneotah shook his fingers, as if to restore the circulation of the

blood in them, by way of answer.
“Don’t mind him,” cried Percy Vere. “He’s always at his tricks. You
leave us here?”

“Yes. When you reach the top of this rock you will see your camp.”

“Good-by.”

Percy extended his hand, but Oneotah hesitated to accept it. Percy
laughed.

“Have no fear,” he said. “I will not serve you as he did.”

Oneotah placed his hand in Percy’s, who uttered an exclamation of

surprise as he received it.

“No wonder he hurt you,” he cried; “why your hand is as soft as a

girl’s.”

Oneotah withdrew his hand quickly.

“I must return to Smoholler,” he said. “Come back, and he will show

you the Black Spirit and the White. Farewell!”

With these words, he bounded swiftly away, and was soon lost to
sight among the trees.

“No wonder he is called the Antelope!” exclaimed Percy Vere, as he

gazed after him; “for he is as fleet as one.”

“But he ought not be called the Antelope,” rejoined Cute.

This difference of opinion, so unusual in friend and cousin, surprised

Percy Vere.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“’Tain’t correct.”
“Indeed! Can you suggest an improvement?”

“Yes; I should call him the Antelopess.”

Percy Vere started.

“Why, you don’t mean to say—”

“Oneotah is a she antelope—that boy’s a girl!”

“I do believe you are right!” returned Percy Vere, with conviction.

“I know I am. Did you not notice how she squealed when I squeezed
her hand—and didn’t you think her hand was as soft as a girl’s?”

“I wish I could have seen her face!” said Percy Vere, 57

thoughtfully.

“That beastly antelope’s head hides her face, and is worn on

purpose to do so.”

“And yet, I fancy, it is a handsome one—it should be to correspond

with her shapely and flexible limbs; but I can’t imagine why she
should wish to hide it.”

“That’s Smoholler’s doings—look at the way he had his face daubed;

who could make any thing of his features through all that paint? I
tell you what, I don’t think the Indians know what she is—the
Prophet makes them believe she is a boy, I bet.”

“Why should he make her assume such a disguise?”

“Because he’s an old humbug! He’s up to some trickery to

bamboozling these Indians, all the time; that’s the way he has made
himself a great man out this way. If he had been a white man, he
would have been a politician; but as he’s red, he turns Prophet—with
an eye to profit, don’t you see?”
“He certainly has gained a great ascendancy over the Indians.”

“Of course he has—there’s red fools as well as white ones. He’s as

smart as a steel trap—you can see that with half an eye. And she’s
smart.”

“Oneotah?”

“Yes; she does just as he says, and believes in him, too, but that’s
only natural, because I can just guess what she is.”

“What?”

“His daughter. She’s a chip of the old block, and helps him in his
hocus-pocus conjurocus, I’ll bet.”

“You’re good at guessing, and I think your guess is correct.”

“You bet! I’m Cute by name, and ’cute by nature. Tell you what,
Percy—if we could have taken off that antelope’s head, do you know
what we would have found beneath it?”

Percy smiled.

“We should have found her face, of course,” he answered.

“Yes, and something else—we should have found the face of the
Angel that appeared on the cliff, last night.”

This assurance surprised Percy Vere.

“Do you think so?” he cried, and his voice was strongly 58
charged with incredulity.

“I’ll just bet my bottom dollar on it! She’s the Prophet’s White Spirit,
sure as a gun.”
“I have only one objection to urge to that,” replied Percy Vere. “The
face of the Angel was white—you observed that?”

This remark bothered Cute a little.

“Y-e-s,” he admitted.

“And Oneotah is undoubtedly an Indian—whether boy or girl—and

his, or her, face must necessarily be red.”

“Ah, yes—but couldn’t the Prophet whitewash it for the occasion?”

cried Cute, triumphantly. “How can we tell but what the Prophet may
have found a lot of Lily-white or Pearl Powder in some emigrant train
that his braves have plundered?”

“Pshaw! that’s too ridiculous an idea.”

“You may think so, but I don’t. I tell you, this Prophet is a sly old
’coon, and up to all sorts of dodges. And then, how do we know that
Oneotah is an Indian girl?” he continued, suddenly inspired with a
new idea. “She may be a white girl—stolen away from her home
when she was a wee bit of a shaver—I have heard of such things,
haven’t you?”

“Certainly; the histories of the Indian tribes recount many such

instances. I should like to see her face, for what you have said has
made me very curious about it.”

“You shall see it!”

“How?”

“When we give the Prophet our next call, I’ll contrive to throw some
flip-flaps for his amusement; and I’ll flip flap over Oneotah and
knock her head off!”

“Oh! you mustn’t hurt her!” remonstrated Percy.

“I don’t mean to—I’ll only knock the antelope’s head off her
shoulders, and then you can see her face.”

“Do you think you can do it?”

“You just keep your eye on me, and see if I don’t. Now, let’s shin up
this tree and get back to camp. We shall have plenty of news for
them.”

“Yes; they will be very much surprised to see us, as I think they
have given us up for lost. Glyndon has reproached himself 59
with our death, I’m sure, and he will be rejoiced to see us.
Come on.”

“You first.”

They began to climb the tree.

 CHAPTER XIII.
MULTUOMAH.

When Gummery Glyndon jumped into the river to escape from his
pursuers, he still clutched his trusty rifle by its barrel, and he held
fast to it, as the swift current swept him rapidly down-stream.

The Indians did not follow him into the river, but paused upon its
bank, and began to hastily reload their guns. The loss they had
sustained in their attack upon the hunter and the boys had rendered
them furious for vengeance. But the current swept Glyndon out of
sight, for the bank was thickly wooded, before they could bring their
guns to bear upon him.

They discharged them, notwithstanding, in the direction in which he

had gone.

Glyndon laughed as he heard the harmless discharge.

“Trying to shoot me round a corner,” he muttered. “Well, they won’t

get my ha’r this time; but the boys are done for—poor lads! poor
lads!”

He shook his gray head sorrowfully over this reflection. Then he saw
the trunk of a tree floating in the stream ahead of him. He struck out
for it, gained it, and ensconced under its further side, floated with it
down the stream. As he went with the current, he made good
headway, and soon reached the camp of the surveyors.

A shout from the bank announced that he was observed and

recognized as he approached, and the members of the party
clustered upon the bank to receive him, as he guided his log toward
the shore. At this point the river was fordable, and the banks were
sandy and sloping. His feet touched bottom as he came to the sand-
bar that stretched across the entire width of the stream, and 60
he allowed the log to float away, and walked ashore.

“What luck?” demanded Lieutenant Gardiner, as the gaunt figure of

the old hunter drew near.

“Bad!” answered Glyndon, laconically; and he briefly related to

Gardiner, Blaikie and Robbins the particulars of his scout.

All were of his opinion that little mercy would be shown to the boys
by their captors, and they deeply lamented their untimely fate.

“Do you know what tribe these Indians belong to?” asked Gardiner.

“They’re Smohollers, I reckon,” replied Glyndon.

“Did you see him with them?”

“That’s more than I can say, for I don’t know him. So I might have
seen him without knowing it. There was a chief at the head of ’em,
and he acted differently from Injun chiefs in general, for he charged
right down upon us, without stopping to count the cost, and that
was what flaxed us—for they just drew our fire, and were upon us
without giving us a chance to reload; and there was too many of ’em
for a hand-to-hand fight. I managed to get out of it, but I had to
leave the boys. There was no help for it.”

The old hunter uttered these words in an exculpatory manner, as if

he thought himself responsible, in a measure, for the misfortune that
had befallen them.

“This attack looks as if the Indians were determined to prevent us

from proceeding in our survey,” remarked Robbins.

“That ain’t the worst of it,” rejoined Glyndon. “They ain’t a-going to
allow us to stop here long. So just look out for a brush. I hope you
have been fixing things here, leftenant,” he continued, turning to
Gardiner.

“Come and see,” replied the lieutenant, who wished to have the old
hunter’s opinion on the measures he had taken for the protection of
the camp.

A semicircular breastwork, composed of felled trees and the loose

large stones lying about, had been constructed, running from the
river around the grove and back to the river again, completely
guarding all approach to the camp, except by the river, which 61
was considered to be protection enough in itself.

Sentinels were posted at different points, and the utmost vigilance

observed. The quick discovery of Glyndon’s approach was a proof of
this; for the river was watched as well as the ravine.

That there was an approach to the camp over the precipitous cliff to
the right was a circumstance that Lieutenant Gardiner was yet to
learn; not that it made his position more insecure, as his breastwork
was some distance from the cliff.

Within the grove, and the breastwork, were the animals and the
implements of the party, and Ike Yardell, seeing the probability of
remaining there several days, had called upon Corney Donohoe and
Jake Spatz to assist him in building a fireplace of stones; a
substantial affair that would assist his culinary efforts.

Gummery Glyndon expressed himself highly satisfied with the

condition in which the camp had been placed during his absence.

“Smoholler can never drive us out of this,” he said. “He don’t care
much for the lives of his men, that’s certain, but he can’t take this
place in a single charge, and it will cost him pretty dear to try it.”

“Have you any idea of the force under his command?” asked
Lieutenant Gardiner.
“Nigh onto fifty, I should judge by the looks of his trail.”

“We can drive off double that number.”

“Yes; but I have an idea that he has a lot more coming. He can set
all the other tribes round here against us; and if he should muster
three or four hundred warriors in front of us, it would make things
look squally for us.”

“It would, indeed. They might flank us on the other bank of the
river, and so hem us in, and starve us into submission. But I have an
idea that this obstruction will only be temporary, and that we shall
be permitted to proceed.”

“Not a bit of it,” replied Glyndon, decidedly. “We have got to whip
these Injuns and drive ’em away—that’s the only way that we shall
ever ever get rid of ’em. And we must have some help to do it.”

“What help can we get?” 62

“Play the old game here, and set Injuns to fighting Injuns. Send for
a war-party of the Nez Perces.”

“Will they fight against this Indian Prophet?” asked Gardiner,

doubtfully.

“They’ll fight against the Yakimas, Umatillas, and Cayuses, who are
likely to side with him, and if they ’tend to them, we can take care of
the Smohollers.”

“But where can we find a party of these Nez Perces?”

“There’s generally some of ’em at Fort Walla Walla, as their country

is the other side of the Blue Mountains. I’m thinking it might be our
best plan to go back to the fort, and strengthen our party for a fresh
start.”
“Or you might go to the fort and see what you could do in the way
of obtaining a reinforcement among the friendly Indians,” suggested
Gardiner. “I am confident that I could hold this position until you
return. Let us consult the surveyors, and get their ideas upon the
subject.”

“Very good—two heads are better than one. Let’s have a council of
war on the subject. Holloa! What’s up now?”

This question was caused by a sudden commotion in the camp, in

the direction of the river. They hurried to the bank. A young Indian,
whose dress proclaimed him a chief, was riding his horse across the
river. He had proclaimed himself a friend to the sentinels, and was
suffered to advance unmolested.

“It is Multuomah!” exclaimed Glyndon.

“Do you know him?” asked Gardiner.

“Like a book!—and he’s just the man we want, for he’s a war-chief of
the Nez Perces.”

“Good! He is welcome.”

The young chief crossed the river, and rode up to the assembled
group that awaited his coming. He dismounted with an easy grace,
and in a manner that denoted his belief that he was among friends.

“How d’ye do, Multuomah?” cried Glyndon, extending his hand,

cordially.

The young chief recognized him pleasantly.

“The Gray Hunter!” he returned. “It is good. He can tell these 63

white men that Multuomah is their friend.”
“That’s so. You are the youngest chief of the Nez Perces, but you are
the smartest one of the lot.”
 CHAPTER XIV.
THE CHIEF’S BRIDE.

Multuomah inclined his head in a gratified manner at this praise.

Lieutenant Gardiner and the surveyors gazed upon him curiously. He
was a fine specimen of the warlike nation to which he belonged—the
powerful Sahaptin tribe. The name of Nez Perces was given to this
tribe by the early French voyageurs, as a custom once existed
among them of wearing a bone ring in the cartilage of the nose,
which was pierced for that purpose, hence Nez Perces, or in English
Pierced Noses; and though the custom is discontinued, the name still
remains.

Nor are they the only tribe of the Indians of that section who have
lost their original name in the fanciful ones bestowed upon them by
the voyageurs, who were the first explorers of the great North-west.
The Pen D’Oreilles (Ear-rings), Cœur D’Alenes (Needle-hearts), still
exist.

Multuomah was of medium hight, slender in figure, but as straight as

an arrow, and gracefully proportioned. His face, undisfigured by war-
paint, was eminently handsome, and his features wore a pleasant
expression. His eyes were dark and keen as an eagle’s, and his hair
was long and flowing, and as black as jet. His complexion was not
unlike bronze in its hue, clear and vivid, and not that dull chocolate
hue, so common among the Oregon tribes.

He wore a hunting-shirt, leggins, and moccasins of deer-skin, all

richly ornamented with fringe and beads; and an eagle’s feather was
fastened in the band that kept his long black hair from his eyes. He
was armed with rifle, tomahawk, and scalping-knife.

His age could not have been over twenty-five. Take his 64
appearance altogether, he was one of the finest specimens of
the red-men to be found at the present day. He had mixed with the
white men, and learned some portion of their civilization without
becoming contaminated by their vices.

“Is Multuomah alone?” asked Glyndon.

“No,” answered the young chief, “there are a hundred warriors

awaiting his bidding yonder.”

He pointed across the Columbia with a dignified action, but some

little pride mingled with his dignity, as if he felt that his consequence
would be increased by the announcement of the force at his
command. Nor was he deceived in this, for his hearers received the
intelligence with great satisfaction.

“Good!” cried Glyndon. “We can wipe the Smohollers out in no time
now.”

“Is Smoholler near?” asked Multuomah, eagerly.

“Well, he just is. His head-quarters are in yonder cliff, and he has
regularly besieged us here.”

“Why should he trouble you? Smoholler seldom makes war—though

he will always fight stoutly in self-defense.”

“He don’t like the idea of the railroad going through this territory.
These are the surveyors, Multuomah, Mister Blaikie and Mister
Robbins, and this is Lieutenant Gardiner, from Fort Walla Walla.”

The young chieftain shook hands cordially with all three, as they
were introduced to him.

“How many braves has Smoholler with him?” he asked, continuing

the conversation with Glyndon.
“Nigh on to fifty, as near as I can calculate from their trail; but me
and the boys sent a few of ’em under.”

“How was that?”

Glyndon briefly described his scout and skirmish with Smoholler’s

party.

“The Prophet’s men fight bravely, I have been told,” rejoined

Multuomah.

“You have never had any brush with them?”

“No.”

“Then you have got a chance now.”

Multuomah shook his head gravely.

“I doubt if my braves will fight against the Prophet,” he said; 65

“though I have brought them here for that very purpose.”

These words greatly excited the interest of his hearers.

“Then your men believe in the mystical power of this red Prophet?”
asked Lieutenant Gardiner.

“Yes; few Indians in this country doubt the power of Smoholler,”

replied Multuomah. “They dread the spirits that come at his bidding.”

“But you—what do you think?”

Multuomah shrugged his shoulders in a dubious manner.

“I do not know what to think,” he responded.

“Ah! I see; you would like to doubt him, but can not exactly divest
your mind of a certain belief in his supernatural powers. That is not
to be wondered at, for he has shown us some astonishing sights
since we have been here. I think it’s all trickery, but I can’t tell how
it is done.”

Multuomah looked troubled.

“You have seen his spirits?” he asked.

“Yes; black and white. Why should he choose those colors, when he
is red?”

“One is the Spirit of Evil; the other the Spirit of Good.”

“Have you ever seen them?”

“Never; but I have been told by those who have. It is by means of

these spirits that he has gained so great a power. His followers come
from all tribes, and their belief in him is great. If I was to attack him,
and he should make his spirits appear before my braves, they would
fly in terror; and yet there are no braver warriors in all my nation.”

The four white men, who were listening to him, exchanged glances.

“This complicates the situation,” remarked Blaikie. “I don’t see as

this reinforcement will, under the circumstances, be of much use to
us.”

Gardiner and Robbins were of his opinion; but Glyndon took a more
favorable view of the matter.

“We must make it of use to us,” he cried. “We are strong enough,
with Multuomah’s band, to just gobble this Prophet, and I’m going to
do it. The boys may be alive yet, and we must rescue them.”

“But if the chief and his braves dare not fight against 66
Smoholler?” urged Lieutenant Gardiner.

Multuomah crested his head proudly.

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