The travellers passed a restless, miserable night.  The place swarmed with myriads of mosquitoes, which, with their stings and their music, set all sleep at defiance.  The morning dawn found them in a feverish, irritable mood, and their spleen was completely aroused by the return of the Indian without any intelligence of the white men.  They now considered themselves the dupes of Indian falsehoods, and resolved to put no more confidence in Snakes.  They soon, however, forgot this resolution.  In the course of the morning, an Indian came galloping after them; Mr. Stuart waited to receive him; no sooner had he come up, than, dismounting and throwing his arms around the neck of Mr. Stuart’s horse, he began to kiss and caress the animal, who, on his part, seemed by no means surprised or displeased with his salutation.  Mr. Stuart, who valued his horse highly, was somewhat annoyed by these transports; the cause of them was soon explained.  The Snake said the horse had belonged to him, and been the best in his possession, and that it had been stolen by the Wallah-Wallahs.  Mr. Stuart was by no means pleased with this recognition of his steed, nor disposed to admit any claim on the part of its ancient owner.  In fact, it was a noble animal, admirably shaped, of free and generous spirit, graceful in movement, and fleet as an antelope.  It was his intention, if possible, to take the horse to New York, and present him to Mr. Astor.

In the meantime, some of the party came up, and immediately recognized in the Snake an old friend and ally.  He was, in fact, one of the two guides who had conducted Mr. Hunt’s party, in the preceding autumn, across Mad River Mountain to Fort Henry, and who subsequently departed with Mr. Miller and his fellow trappers, to conduct them to a good trapping ground.  The reader may recollect that these two trusty Snakes were engaged by Mr. Hunt to return and take charge of the horses which the party intended to leave at Fort Henry, when they should embark in canoes.

The party now crowded round the Snake, and began to question him with eagerness.  His replies were somewhat vague, and but partially understood.  He told a long story about the horses, from which it appeared that they had been stolen by various wandering bands, and scattered in different directions.  The cache, too, had been plundered, and the saddles and other equipments carried off.  His information concerning Mr. Miller and his comrades was not more satisfactory.  They had trapped for some time about the upper streams, but had fallen into the hands of a marauding party of Crows, who had robbed them of horses, weapons, and everything.

Further questioning brought forth further intelligence, but all of a disastrous kind.  About ten days previously, he had met with three other white men, in very miserable plight, having one horse each, and but one rifle among them.  They also had been plundered and maltreated by the Crows, those universal freebooters.  The Snake endeavored to pronounce the names of these three men, and as far as his imperfect sounds could be understood, they were supposed to be three of the party of four hunters, namely, Carson, St. Michael, Detaye, and Delaunay, who were detached from Mr. Hunt’s party on the 28th of September, to trap beaver on the head waters of the Columbia.