None of the Chinamen came down, and there were no Indians in town that day.

The only unpleasant circumstance was the persistent repetition by a deaf-mute of a pantomimic representation of the disaster that he believed was to overwhelm us.

"Dummy," as we called him, showed us that we would be upset, and, unable to scale the cliffs, would surely all be drowned.

This picture, as vividly presented as possible, seemed to give him and his brother great satisfaction.

We laughed at his prophecy, but his efforts to talk were distressing.