resting-place being sought for breathing their animals. In due time,
they reached the desired stream; but, the beaver signs did not appear.
Finding their errand had proved entirely useless, they started to
return into camp. Experience had taught them that the longest way
round was, in this case, the quickest way home. Taking therefore a
circuitous route, they avoided recrossing the lofty mountain peak
already alluded to. As they were riding carelessly homeward, beguiling
the time with anecdote and remark upon their future prospects, the
scenery around them, with an occasional sight at some kind of game,
what should appear ahead of them but four Indian warriors, remarkably
well mounted, painted and decked with feathers, showing, conclusively,
that they were out upon the war-path. As soon as Kit and his
companions saw the warriors, and without one word as to their proper
and best action being interchanged, they simultaneously put spurs to
their horses and dashed at the Indians in order quickly to bring
them within range of their rifles. The pace became a hot one; but, as
suddenly as the charge had been commenced, so suddenly the trappers
found that they had, this time "caught a Tartar;" for, as they dashed
on, sixty warriors, fully armed and splendidly mounted, came into view
from beneath a hill where they were awaiting in ambush.

There was but one course for the trappers to take and that was to run
the gauntlet, which they did in gallant style, although twenty yards
would have frequently measured the distance between them and the
hostile savages. The bullets from the rifles of the Indians flew about
their ears thick and fast, for a heavy fire was opened upon them,
as they passed, and incessantly kept up until they were out of their
reach. The trappers did not return a shot. It would not have been
according to their custom. There is no one thing Simon-pure trappers
consider to be a greater folly than firing their rifles on such an