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.
One of the three trappers had been brought down by the volley;
the others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up whatever
they could carry off, retreated to a small island in the river,
and took refuge among the willows. Here they were soon joined by
their comrade who had fallen, but who had merely been wounded in
the neck.
In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted camp,
with all the traps, accoutrements, and horses. While they were
busy among the spoils, a solitary trapper, who had been absent at
his work, came sauntering to the camp with his traps on his back.
He had approached near by, when an Indian came forward and
motioned him to keep away; at the same moment, he was perceived
by his comrades on the island, and warned of his danger with loud
cries. The poor fellow stood for a moment, bewildered and aghast,
then dropping his traps, wheeled and made off at full speed,
quickened by a sportive volley which the Indians rattled after
him.
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