After a day of painful and fruitless scrambling, Mr. Hunt gave up the attempt to penetrate in this direction, and, returning to the little stream on the skirts of the mountain, pitched his tents within six miles of his encampment of the preceding night.  He now ordered that signals should be made for the stragglers in quest of water; but the night passed away without their return.

The next morning, to their surprise, Rose made his appearance at the camp, accompanied by some of his Crow associates.  His unwelcome visit revived their suspicions; but he announced himself as a messenger of good-will from the chief, who, finding they had taken the wrong road, had sent Rose and his companions to guide them to a nearer and better one across the mountain.

Having no choice, being themselves utterly at fault, they set out under this questionable escort.  They had not gone far before they fell in with the whole party of Crows, who, they now found, were going the same road with themselves.  The two cavalcades of white and red men, therefore, pushed on together, and presented a wild and picturesque spectacle, as, equipped with various weapons and in various garbs, with trains of pack-horses, they wound in long lines through the rugged defiles, and up and down the crags and steeps of the mountain.

The travellers had again an opportunity to see and admire the equestrian habitudes and address of this hard-riding tribe.  They were all mounted, man, woman, and child, for the Crows have horses in abundance, so that no one goes on foot.  The children are perfect imps on horseback.  Among them was one so young that he could not yet speak.  He was tied on a colt of two years old, but managed the reins as if by instinct, and plied the whip with true Indian prodigality.  Mr. Hunt inquired the age of this infant jockey, and was answered that “he had seen two winters.”

This is almost realizing the fable of the centaurs; nor can we wonder at the equestrian adroitness of these savages, who are thus in a manner cradled in the saddle, and become in infancy almost identified with the animal they bestride.

The mountain defiles were exceedingly rough and broken, and the travelling painful to the burdened horses.  The party, therefore, proceeded but slowly, and were gradually left behind by the band of Crows, who had taken the lead.  It is more than probable that Mr. Hunt loitered in his course, to get rid of such doubtful fellow-travellers.  Certain it is that he felt a sensation of relief as he saw the whole crew, the renegade Rose and all, disappear among the windings of the mountain, and heard the last yelp of the savages die away in the distance.