Henri’s idea of home-sickness was so totally opposed to theirs that his comrades only laughed, and refrained from attempting to set him right.

“The fust time I wos took bad with it wos in a country somethin’ like that,” said Joe, pointing to the wide stretch of undulating prairie, dotted with clusters of trees and meandering streamlets, that lay before them.  “I had bin out about two months, an’ was makin’ a good thing of it, for game wos plenty, when I began to think somehow more than usual o’ home.  My mother wos alive then.”

Joe’s voice sank to a deep, solemn tone as he said this, and for a few minutes he rode on in silence.

“Well, it grew worse and worse.  I dreamed o’ home all night an’ thought of it all day, till I began to shoot bad, an’ my comrades wos gittin’ tired o’ me; so says I to them one night, says I, ’I give out, lads; I’ll make tracks for the settlement to-morrow.’  They tried to laugh me out of it at first, but it was no go, so I packed up, bid them good-day, an’ sot off alone on a trip o’ five hundred miles.  The very first mile o’ the way back I began to mend, and before two days I wos all right again.”

Joe was interrupted at this point by the sudden appearance of a solitary horseman on the brow of an eminence not half-a-mile distant.  The three friends instantly drove their pack-horses behind a clump of trees; but not in time to escape the vigilant eye of the Red-man, who uttered a loud shout, which brought up a band of his comrades at full gallop.

“Remember, Henri,” cried Joe Blunt, “our errand is one of peace.”

The caution was needed, for in the confusion of the moment Henri was making preparation to sell his life as dearly as possible.  Before another word could be uttered, they were surrounded by a troop of about twenty yelling Blackfeet Indians.  They were, fortunately, not a war party, and, still more fortunately, they were peaceably disposed, and listened to the preliminary address of Joe Blunt with exemplary patience; after which the two parties encamped on the spot, the council fire was lighted, and every preparation made for a long palaver.

We will not trouble the reader with the details of what was said on this occasion.  The party of Indians was a small one, and no chief of any importance was attached to it.  Suffice it to say that the pacific overtures made by Joe were well received, the trifling gifts made thereafter were still better received, and they separated with mutual expressions of good-will.

Several other bands which were afterwards met with were equally friendly, and only one war party was seen.  Joe’s quick eye observed it in time to enable them to retire unseen behind the shelter of some trees, where they remained until the Indian warriors were out of sight.

The next party they met with, however, were more difficult to manage, and, unfortunately, blood was shed on both sides before our travellers escaped.