In The Meantime, Sublette And Campbell, With Their Fellow
Traveller, Wyeth, Had Pursued Their March Unmolested, And Arrived
In The Green River Valley, Totally Unconscious That There Was Any
Lurking Enemy At Hand.
They had encamped one night on the banks
of a small stream, which came down from the Wind River Mountains,
when about midnight, a band of Indians burst upon their camp,
with horrible yells and whoops, and a discharge of guns and
arrows.
Happily no other harm was done than wounding one mule,
and causing several horses to break loose from their pickets. The
camp was instantly in arms; but the Indians retreated with yells
of exultation, carrying off several of the horses under cover of
the night.
This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain life to
some of Wyeth's band, accustomed only to the regular and peaceful
life of New England; nor was it altogether to the taste of
Captain Sublette's men, who were chiefly creoles and townsmen
from St. Louis. They continued their march the next morning,
keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, and arrived without
further molestation at Pierre's Hole.
The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on reaching the
rendezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. He had not arrived, nor had any
intelligence been received concerning him. Great uneasiness was
now entertained, lest he should have fallen into the hands of the
Blackfeet who had made the midnight attack upon the camp. It was
a matter of general joy, therefore, when he made his appearance,
conducted by two half-breed Iroquois hunters.
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