expressionless faces. Even the smiles of the squaws are of the same
unlovely pattern, though they seem to be perfectly oblivious of any
ugliness whatever, and whenever a pale-faced visitor appears near their
teepe they straightway present him with one of those repulsive, unwinning
smiles. Sunday, May 4th, finds me anchored for the day at the village
of Lovelocks, on the Humboldt River, where I spend quite a remarkable
day. Never before did such a strangely assorted crowd gather to see the
first bicycle ride they ever saw, as the crowd that gathers behind the
station at Lovelocks to-day to see me. There are perhaps one hundred and
fifty people, of whom a hundred are Piute and Shoshone Indians, and the
remainder a mingled company of whites and Chinese railroaders; and among
them all it is difficult to say who are the most taken with the novelty
of the exhibition - the red, the yellow, or the white. Later in the evening
I accept the invitation of a Piute brave to come out to their camp,
behind the village, and witness rival teams of Shoshone and Piute squaws
play a match-game of " Fi-re-fla," the national game of both the Shoshone
and Piute tribes. The principle of the game is similar to polo. The
squaws are armed with long sticks, with which they endeavor to carry a
shorter one to the goal. It is a picturesque and novel sight to see the
squaws, dressed in costumes in which the garb of savagery and civilization
is strangely mingled and the many colors of the rainbow are promiscuously
blended, flitting about the field with the agility of a team of professional
polo-players; while the bucks and old squaws, with their pappooses, sit
around and watch the game with unmistakable enthusiasm. The Shoshone
team wins and looks pleased. Here, at Lovelocks, I fall in with one of
those strange and seemingly incongruous characters that are occasionally
met with in the West. He is conversing with a small gathering of Piutes
in their own tongue, and I introduce myself by asking him the probable
age of one of the Indians, whose wrinkled and leathery countenance would
indicate unusual longevity. He tells me the Indian is probably ninety