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.
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