up, and I found the hoofmarks of an unshod
horse, down by some bushes. Shoshonies hev'
been scoutin' nigh us, mister.'

"'Shoshonies?'

"'Ay, that's what they call themselves; the
cruel Snake Injuns. That war a Snake's
mocassin, I tell 'ee. Some cussed war party's hard
by, and their loping spies hev seen the doctor
vampoose, and know our helpless condition.
May I never,' he suddenly exclaimed, 'but here
the red beggars come!'

"Far off on the prairie appeared something
like a herd of wild horses galloping towards us,
for no riders were visible: a circumstance which
drew a grim smile from the tall farmer.

"''Tis a stale trick, that,' said he, bitterly;
'every darned brave of the lot is hangin' at his
nag's flank, clingin' by the mane like a bat to a
bough, and with jest one foot over the mustang's
withers. We'll see enough of their painted
faces afore we finish.'

"Then, uplifting his voice, he thundered out
the alarm call:

"'To arms, men, to arms! Don't ye see
the Injuns? Quick, Western-men, with your
rifles, and recklect every grain of powder's
preciouser nor gold dust, short of ammynition
as we are. So—no use screechin', you
gals and women (for a shrill cry had broken
from the females of the party), we must fight
for our scalps.'

"After the first moment of panic, nine-tenths
of the men, and even several of the women,
showed no lack of sense and courage. All the
available weapons were brought out and got
ready, the waggons were dragged and pushed
until they formed a circular fortification, proof
at any rate against the first rush of the mounted
foe. The children were placed under shelter,
and an active lad among the teamsters went out
and caught the grazing horse, just as it threw
up its head with a frightened air and was about
to gallop off.

"You must not expect from me a detailed
and minute account of what followed. I
only remember what seems a hideous night-
mare of frightful painted faces, brandished
weapons, shields, lances, and tomahawks, the
trampling and rearing of horses, the hurtle of
arrows, and the hiss of rifle-balls. I remember
the dreadful cry of the Indians, repeated again
and again as they renewed their charge, and a
sense of something like disappointment on my
part that this horrid war-whoop was not more
horrid, since it had been to me a subject of
curiosity from childhood. And I recollect the
oaths and cheers of our men, the shrieks and
prayers of our women, the dust, smoke, flashes,
and volleys, and that we fought hard, and
drove off the yelling painted pack, again and
again.

"We beat them, for the time at least. Seven
grim bodies, smeared with paint and charcoal
dust, lay stark upon the prairie, and five
wounded horses were rolling over in the death-
struggle, before the red robbers fell back. On
our side we had many slight wounds, but only
one death. A poor child, a little fair-haired
German girl, had been pierced through the
neck by a barbed arrow that went through the
tilt of the waggon where she lay trembling
beside her mother. The wound would have been
mortal, even had surgical aid been at hand;
the poor thing bled to death, while her parents
almost raved in their entreaties to all present to
save her.

"The Indians had not done with us yet. They
hovered about like vultures, greedy for prey.
Warned by their loss, they did not again try to
storm our camp, but harassed us with endless
stratagems and alarms, while awaiting the sure
progress of starvation to reduce us. We had to
fight for the water of the creek, and it cost us
two lives before we remained masters of the
deep stream, fringed by bushes, near which we
had halted. We kept a vigilant watch by night,
and our feverish slumbers were sure to be
broken by the war-whoop. Several were badly
hurt by the arrows that hailed on us every day;
but the worst infliction was that of hunger.
Our scanty food waned. The children cried for
nourishment; but even they had to be severely
stinted, and men and women grew pale, gaunt,
and hollow-eyed, till our camp was as a camp of
spectres. And still the hideous merciless savages
thirsted for our blood and our plunder, and beset
us like wolves. They were in no want. They
hunted, and brought in plenty of game, and
would tauntingly show us venison steaks and
wild turkeys, impaled on the points of their
lances, and then, with ferocious gestures, would
draw the scalping-knife around their own up-
lifted hair. They were squat and low of stature,
almost dwarfish in comparison with the tall
tribes to the eastward; but these accursed Snakes
showed no lack of strength or hardihood. And
we knew too well how fearful it would be to fall
alive into their hands.

"It was settled, as the sole last chance,
that two messengers should mount the two
remaining horses, and try to reach Fort Boisé
and obtain a rescue. It was a desperate
service, for the mounted Indians beset the path,
while the captain of the fort and his ailing
garrison seemed little likely to render prompt help.
But it was a chance, and a chance not to be
slighted. The food was all but gone. The
powder was nearly spent. There was no other
hope. The messengers were chosen. It was
needful that they should be good horsemen. It
was also needful that they should be light
weights. The only good riders, in fact, besides
big Simon Davis, were myself, and Triptolemus
Nutkins, a little withered Yankee jockey who
had ridden many a match in the North, and who
had taken a fancy to make his fortune in
Columbia. It was agreed that Trip Nutkins,
as the lightest, should mount the spotted
mustang, and I the black.

"Then it was that Davis gently twitched me
by the sleeve, and addressed me with a timid
hesitation quite uncommon to him:

"'Britisher, we're gone coons. Even if
you git through safe, help won't hardly find