my rifle they were nearly beyond range.  I fired, but without effect; and while I was looking about, I suppose in rather a bewildered manner, a party of something like forty Indians ran rapidly past.  I don’t know whether they saw me or not, but I was by no means anxious to engage their attention, and was glad enough when the last passed out of sight.  I then went in search of Jose, whom I found in the river up to his neck in water—­a position which he thought afforded the safest means of concealment, as he knew his wild brethren would have sacrificed him, and perhaps eaten him forthwith, if they had chanced to discover him.”

I at once set to work to dress Dowling’s ear, and a wound which Don Luis had received in his hand.  The latter was merely a scratch, and the only danger likely to arise from it was in the event of the arrow by which it was inflicted having been poisoned.  But Don Luis felt so confident that this was not the practice among the tribes about here, that he would not allow me to take the usual precautions against such a contingency.

Our anxiety was now turned towards the party who were out hunting, and we anxiously looked for their appearance.  We had been so upset by the events of the morning, that we all felt disinclined to resume our labours after our meal was concluded, and we occupied ourselves in and about the camp, and in discussing the reason of the Indians’ attack, and the probability of its being followed up by another.  The day wore on without any signs of our companions’ return.  Towards evening, a rifle was fired off occasionally, to let them know of the danger which in all probability awaited them from an attack on the part of the Indians, and also to let the latter gentry know that we were on the look-out.  It was arranged that we should all keep watch until the arrival of our friends, to be the better prepared for any danger which menaced us and them; for we thought it not unlikely that the Indians were hovering about the camp, and might attempt a surprise.  Exhausted, however, by excitement and fatigue, one by one we dropped off to sleep.  I was wakened up by the report, as I thought, of a rifle, which was immediately followed by a horrible moaning, and the whole of us were soon on our legs, rifles in hand, in the expectation of being butchered in the course of a few minutes.  Bradley’s well-known whistle, however, somewhat restored our confidence.

In a few minutes Lacosse, Bradley, and the old trapper were by the camp-fire.  “Is McPhail here?” asked all of them in a breath, anxiously looking round the circle.  The reply to the question was a sad one:  he had not yet returned.  In answer to our inquiries as to where they had parted from him, and as to whether they had heard the rifle-shot which had disturbed us from our sleep, Lacosse replied that they had first missed him about three-quarters of an hour ago, but they did not feel any particular uneasiness at the circumstance, as they imagined he