They Had Then
Waylaid The Present Detachment, And Were Actually Housed In
Perfect Silence Within Their Fort, When The Mule Of The Trapper
Made Such A Dead Point.
The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of
hostility, mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, and
gesticulations of the most insulting kind.
In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses were
killed. On preparing the morning's meal, however, a number of
cups, knives, and other articles were missing, which had,
doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious elk, during the
slumber of the very sagacious sentinel.
As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trappers
had intended to travel, the latter changed their route, and
pushed forward rapidly through the "Bad Pass," nor halted until
night; when, supposing themselves out of the reach of the enemy,
they contented themselves with tying up their horses and posting
a guard. They had scarce laid down to sleep, when a dog strayed
into the camp with a small pack of moccasons tied upon his back;
for dogs are made to carry burdens among the Indians. The
sentinel, more knowing than he of the preceding night, awoke his
companions and reported the circumstance. It was evident that
Indians were at hand. All were instantly at work; a strong pen
was soon constructed for the horses, after completing which, they
resumed their slumbers with the composure of men long inured to
dangers.
In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp, and
various suspicious noises, showed that Indians were still
hovering about them. Hurrying on by long marches, they at length
fell upon a trail, which, with the experienced eye of veteran
woodmen, they soon discovered to be that of the party of trappers
detached by Captain Bonneville when on his march, and which they
were sent to join. They likewise ascertained from various signs,
that this party had suffered some maltreatment from the Indians.
They now pursued the trail with intense anxiety; it carried them
to the banks of the stream called the Gray Bull, and down along
its course, until they came to where it empties into the Horn
River. Here, to their great joy, they discovered the comrades of
whom they were in search, all strongly fortified, and in a state
of great watchfulness and anxiety.
We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of
trappers. These men, after parting with the main body under
Captain Bonneville, had proceeded slowly for several days up the
course of the river, trapping beaver as they went. One morning,
as they were about to visit their traps, one of the camp-keepers
pointed to a fine elk, grazing at a distance, and requested them
to shoot it. Three of the trappers started off for the purpose.
In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by some savages in
ambush, and at the same time, the pretended elk, throwing off his
hide and his horn, started forth an Indian warrior.
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