He threw himself on the ground, therefore, and lay motionless, watching the movements of the animal with intense anxiety.  It continued to advance until at the foot of the hill, where it turned, and made into the woods, having probably gorged itself with buffalo flesh.  Mr. Crooks made all possible haste back to camp, rejoicing at his escape, and determined never to stir out again without his rifle.  A few days afterwards a grizzly bear was shot at a short distance from camp by Mr. Miller.

As the slaughter of so many buffaloes had provided the party with beef for the winter, even if they met with no further supply, they now set to work with heart and hand to build a comfortable shelter.  In a little while the woody promontory rang with the unwonted sound of the axe.  Some of its lofty trees were laid low, and by the second evening the cabin was complete.  It was eight feet wide, and eighteen feet long.  The walls were six feet high, and the whole was covered with buffalo-skins.  The fireplace was in the centre, and the smoke found its way out by a hole in the roof.

The hunters were next sent out to procure deerskins for garments, moccasins, and other purposes.  They made the mountains echo with their rifles, and, in the course of two days’ hunting, killed twenty-eight bighorn and black-tailed deer.

The party now revelled in abundance.  After all they had suffered from hunger, cold, fatigue, and watchfulness; after all their perils from treacherous and savage men, they exulted in the snugness and security of their isolated cabin, hidden, as they thought, even from the prying eyes of Indian scouts, and stored with creature comforts.  They looked forward to a winter of peace and quietness; of roasting, broiling, and boiling, feasting upon venison, mountain mutton, bear’s meat, marrow-bones, buffalo humps, and other hunters’ dainties; of dozing and reposing around their fire, gossiping over past dangers and adventures, telling long hunting stories—­until spring should return; when they would make canoes of buffalo-skins, and float down the river.

From such halcyon dreams they were startled one morning, at daybreak, by a savage yell, and jumped for their rifles.  The yell was repeated by two or three voices.  Cautiously peeping out, they beheld, to their dismay, several Indian warriors among the trees, all armed and painted in warlike style, evidently bent on some hostile purpose.

Miller changed countenance as he regarded them.  “We are in trouble,” said he, “these are some of the rascally Arapahoes that robbed me last year.”  Not a word was uttered by the rest of the party; they silently slung their powder-horns, ball-pouches, and prepared themselves for battle.  M’Lellan, who had taken his gun to pieces the evening before, put it together in all haste.  He proposed that they should break out the clay from between the logs, so as to be able to fire upon the enemy.

“Not yet,” replied Stuart; “it will not do to show fear or distrust; we must first hold a parley.  Some one must go out and meet them as a friend.”