To Escape The Infliction Of Any Compliments Of This Kind, Or The
Launching, Peradventure, Of More Dangerous Missiles, Wyeth Landed
With The Best Grace In His Power And Approached The Chief Of The
Band.
It was Arapooish, the quondam friend of Rose the outlaw,
and one whom we have already mentioned as being anxious to
promote a friendly intercourse between his tribe and the white
men.
He was a tall, stout man, of good presence, and received the
voyagers very graciously. His people, too, thronged around them,
and were officiously attentive after the Crow fashion. One took a
great fancy to Baptiste the Flathead boy, and a still greater
fancy to a ring on his finger, which he transposed to his own
with surprising dexterity, and then disappeared with a quick step
among the crowd.
Another was no less pleased with the Nez Perce lad, and nothing
would do but he must exchange knives with him; drawing a new
knife out of the Nez Perce's scabbard, and putting an old one in
its place. Another stepped up and replaced this old knife with
one still older, and a third helped himself to knife, scabbard
and all. It was with much difficulty that Wyeth and his
companions extricated themselves from the clutches of these
officious Crows before they were entirely plucked.
Falling down the river a little further, they came in sight of
the second band, and sheered to the opposite side, with the
intention of passing them. The Crows were not to be evaded.
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